> A Circle Has No End: Volume I
>  by Gladi Writes
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

> Arc: Precedence
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Flash Sentry stared at the new machine on his desk, absentmindedly wondering if it would ever be of any use. His phone was connected to that new machine, which looked like a standard binary typewriter. Unlike a typewriter, however, this machine printed messages recieved along the phone line to thin paper tape that ran along the top. The keyboard, in turn, sent messages down the line to wherever the machines counterpart lie. This one was connected to the Changeling Hive, which would have been incredibly odd only a few months go.

Beside it was the manual, which Flash had flipped through a few times in boredom. Most if it was trivial information, but there was one page all guards were required to read. Message Precedence. Amusingly, FLASH was top precedence and overrode all other communication. 

Which he found highly ironic considering his own career seemed to have come to an early end when he was reassigned to the Castle Guard, after a brief but promising stint in the Crystal Imperial Legion. Now he was little more then a glorified secretary, his only real action was the patrol schedules. He had a little fun with that, ensuring that there was a checkerboard pattern of white and black coated stallions throughout the patrols. Anybody with an otherwise coloured coat was on air patrol, or away from the populated areas. It had the humorous effect of causing anypony that came to Canterlot thinking the guard was entirely made up of stallions of those two colours. Tomorrow was the Parliament, and he had ensured that the room would be a rainbow of colours representing the guard, it would be hilarious were that parliament not such a serious event.

Flash sighed and sat back in his chair, throwing his hooves up on the desk. Had his career really come to this- micromanaging coat colours? The most excitement he had in the last week was somebody reporting a stolen machine from the guard, which had probably just been lost in the chaos to re-organize. He rubbed his forehead when the machine started to buzz. Watching it with an expression of mild confusion the buzz became a humm, and then then the paper started to move, slowly printing letters.

---PRECEDENCE: FLASH--- HIVE ATTACK--- NEW WEAPON--- SCRAMBLE RESPONSE---

He picked up the phone, and slammed the red button beside it.

"Air Martial Spitfire, what is it?" 

Another line came along the screen

---PARATROOPS INBOUND---TOTAL ROUT INEVITABLE---

"Sergeant Flash Sentry here ma'am, I uh.. I got a message up on the machine here... I think you better get the fleet moving south- fast," 

"What's going on sergeant?" Spitfire asked, an alarm klaxon could be heard behind her.

"It's the Griffons ma'am, they're attacking."

Another buzz heralded more information, Flash began to feel sweat beading on his forehead. The day had finally come.

---ALERT THE PRINCESS---

"We're on the way," Spitfire said, and with a click she disconnected. 

Flash put it down and leapt of the chair, tearing off the message tape, and bucking open the door a ways behind. Inside was his superior- General Massé. He was startled to attention by the sudden entrance.

"Sir, hive reports contact," Flash said. Massé responded with a look of horror, and slammed a large red button on his desk. 

High above Canterlot the fleet was called into action. Sirens blared and hundreds of Pegasi ran to and fro getting to their stations. The Wonderbolts had ballooned over the last month, sweeping up almost all of the pegasi in the guard and bolstered by the reservists on top of that. Those that couldn't fly well manned the ships, those that could became the first line of defense. The largest of these ships was the H.M.S Magnificent, and it was truly magnificent indeed. Nearly a kilometer long, with an enormous central fuselage that seemed like a great elongated balloon. Painted on the gleaming armour was the Equestrian Flag, specifically the war time flag bordered in a red/gold lining- and beside it ran the Wonderbolts Crest. Attached below the great central mass was what from a distance looked like a town. Running along the side were great cannons, and at the front stood the bridge. At the rear four great engines propelled the enormous vehicle with such power that the ship was able to kick up a storm of dirt when it flew below the clouds.

The bridge of the H.M.S Magnificent was almost a fortress in itself, towering over the other structures. The stallions and mares that crewed the bridge were the best and the brightest, the very elite of the Wonderbolts. Each of them knew their place, their station, and the ship like the back of their hand. As elite as they were however, the ship had only been brought out from mothball a month previous. The great machinery that powered it was decades old, and most of that time had been spent in a feverish flurry of activity as it was checked and tested. Only time would tell for sure if the great ship could live up to it's name in practice as well as image.

The alarm klaxon blared and the bridge lighting came on, nearly blinding the crew that had been relaxing in the evening light. The crew came to attention, dropping whatever they had been doing (In quite a few cases this meant tossing aside perfectly good food), and powering on the machines that were their connections to the ship. This was the brain, and at the front before a great glass window the a grey coated mare powered on her machine, possibly the most important of them all. She was Captain Northstar, helms mare. When Air Martial Spitfire wasn't around, the ship was hers.

The klaxons stopped, and the door slammed shut with a clank. Protocol called for the crew to stand at attention, but they were far too busy readying their stations.

"Helm! Set course south- Changeling Hive!" Air Marshall Spitfire said, taking her seat above the helm. From there she had a commanding view of the entire bridge.

"Aye Aye!" Northstar shouted, turning a large wheel with one hoof while powering on a machine with the other. Both magic and technology were inter-meshed through the ship, and that machine was able to provide the helm with an interactive map of the entire world. It's glass display came on, and the great ship pitched to the side as it turned to face south.

"Engineering, we're going to need 100%, so make sure those engines don't quit on us! Weaponry, make sure all cannons are loaded. Flight control, get the alert Wonderbolts on deck! Communications, hail the rest of the fleet and have them form up!"

The room was filled with a chorus of 'ayes', as the crew set to their tasks. They had long since prepared for this day, they had drilled and practiced. But there was still fear in the air, the Equestrians had not seen war for generations, beyond living memory. The plan of action for this event had been set weeks ago: Send everything they had at the first new Griffon attack, in the hopes that the overwhelming force would dissuade any further aggression. The last time they had split their forces, only for the griffons to simply drive through the weakest point. A token force was to be left in Canterlot- a pair of smaller cruisers- while the rest would go wherever the griffons first showed themselves. It was a compromise between the two princesses, Luna wanted to take the fleet out immediately and destroy the griffon's ability to fight, Celestia wanted only defensive measures. The response would be fast, hard, and if they were lucky the idea that this fleet could be anywhere on the continent in less than six hours would dissuade the griffons from further attacks. Overwhelming defensive force was the order of the day.

"Engineering is a go!" 

"Fleet reports ready!"

"Wonderbolts are armed and ready!"

"Cannons are loaded!"

The ship leveled out a again, Northstar allowed the wheel to swing itself flat.

"Course set!" She shouted.

Spitfire got up from her chair, and gestured forward at the mountain range ahead.

"Flank speed!" she shouted, Northstar hammered a lever forward and the crew was almost thrown backwards as the ship blasted away the clouds around it as it powered forward.

The Cavalry was coming.

---------------

Wildcard dashed out of the office, leaving his superior behind frantically yelling into his phone. He was sure the ponies would honor their alliance, and help would be on the way. For now, however, they were on their own. 

The fortress shook and Wildcard leapt back to dodge a shower of debris falling from the ceiling, Quickly adjusting his course he dashed down another hallway, dodging through some confused changeling warriors. The hive was on fire, but down in the courtyard was something far more important to him, First Class- the mare he had fallen in love with. Another explosion rocked the fortress, Wildcard barely managing to keep his footing. Rounding the next corner he found a great hole in the wall, and for the first time he gazed upon the scale of the attack.

The entire hive was on fire, and objects fell from the sky to add to it. They landed with the a furious force that sent debris flying, and then a sphere of fire bloomed to overtake everything around. The fire remained long after the shell had landed. The objects were barely even visible before they landed, the only warning being a shrill shriek from the sky. Wildcard leapt out of the hole and swooped down towards the courtyard below, screams of terror and surprise echoing through the courtyard. Glancing up at the sky he noticed a swarm of objects approaching from the east.

He had known the Griffons were coming, and now they were here, heralded by that new weapon that had burnt Baltimare to the ground a few weeks previous.

Landing on the courtyard he glanced to and fro as he dashed through the chaotic scene. Fire was everywhere, and ponies ran for cover in the buildings while the changelings took to the sky. To his enormous relief he found First Class with an injured pony under her wingm helping him get to shelter. 

"Wildcard!" She shouted over the din, struggling to pull the injured stallion forward.

Wildcard encircled him in a green field, lightening the load, "First Class!" He shouted as a massive green shield began to cover the Hive, "Get to shelter!" 

Glancing back he saw Eta-Alpha standing on the throne room overlook, Ambassador Pike of Equestria beside him. They repeated the same 'shield of friendship' that had saved them more then a month past. Behind them was Queen Chrysalis. Pike, being an earth pony, couldn't control magic on his own. He was, however, able to 'donate' it to the two changelings, and their crooked alicorns shone bright to shield the Hive.

"I can handle myself, Wildcard," She said, pointed hefting the unconscious figure over herself.

She brushed past Wildcard, leaving him to follow.

"But you're..." he was interrupted by a harsh glare. Her blue eyes mirrored Wildcards own- with the exception of her having a proper iris.

"A mare?" She demanded. "I served with the Wonderbolts you know, once I'm done here I'll see about heading up with your patrols."

"..pregnant," Wildcard finished.

"Four weeks!" First Class shouted.

Wildcard decided to drop the argument, he had seen her buck a door right off it's hinges and judged it stupid to anger her needlessly.

"Fine. Just stay safe and I'll come find you once I've got my orders," Wildcard said. 

First Class passed the stallion on to another pony, who nodded and dragged him inside one of the buildings.

"I'll be safest in the sky, and like tartarus I'm going to let those griffons get away without having... a word with them," she said, and winked at Wildcard before swooping up into the sky.

He sighed. Her spirit was why he loved her, but it would surely cause him no end of worry going into the future. Buzzing his wings he took to the air and flew towards the top of the fortress. The scene below had settled down, the screams of terror silenced by the protection the shield afforded. Flying past a few of his comrades putting out fires they glanced at him, it always took them a second to realize who he was before going back to their work.

Wildcard wasn't entirely like his comrades. For one thing he lacked the many holes that dotted the body of the regular changelings- having lost them to an allergic reaction to one of the many vaccinations he had been given to get him up to the standards of Equestrian healthcare. Secondly, he had a cutie mark- a dotted red line with three playing cards overlaid covered his flank. The cards changed based on the angle an observer was looking at them- wildcards. It had been explained to him that his time in Equestria, surrounded by more magic then the average changeling would enjoy in a lifetime of spying, had resulted in it's natural development.

He landed softly before the trio on the balcony, Eta-Alpha- his superior, spared him a glance before focusing back on his work. Flashes of light from above heralded the impact of more of those missiles, and Pike cringed with each. He seemed to bear it well enough though, and he had done this for close to ten hours before. Wildcard also noticed his Queen seemed.. heavier.

"Eta-Delta, we're going to need you to manage the Equestrian response- there's one of those machines back there we had installed, a sergeant 'Flash Sentry' is on the other end," His superior said.

Wildcard suppressed a sigh. His commander wasn't exactly pleased with his performance as a changeling lately, although he had begrudgingly accepted how well he had managed the relationship with Equestria as Ambassdor. He trotted off behind the others, his Queen seemingly not even noticing him. Just as Eta-Alpha had said there was a desk in the corner, a machine mirroring the one Flash had in Canterlot sat ontop, a small cable running from it into the dark stone wall where a hole had been drilled haphazardly. A message had been printed out and awaited reading.

---PRECEDENCE: FLASH---CALVARY COMING---HOLD ON---REPORT STATUS---

Wildcard began to type his reply, as the sun lowered below the mountain range and the room became lit by the dual lights of the green shield outside and the yellow screen before him. With every press of the pedals the machine buzzed and sent his reply down, printing a duplicate as well.

---SHIELD IN PLACE---NO FATALITIES---AWAIT CALVARY---

He paused for a second.

---SEND CIDER--

Perfect.

Flash laughed, and sat back in his chair. He had moved to a building outside the castle that the guard had converted into the nerve centre of the signals portion of the Equestrian Legion. Rows upon rows of the same machine were staffed by guards, and all around him there was a buzz of activity as units were activated, orders given, and reports reported. From what he could gather the entire legion was being mobilized. General Massé sat at the front of the room with his own, markedly larger, machine. It received copies of everything being sent or received in the room, and could override any of them. 

---CHANGELINGS REQUEST CIDER---

He heard a laugh from the front of the room, and grinned on seeing the reply, sent to all in the room

---FLASH FLEET---CHANGELINGS REQUEST CIDER---

To the south, the fleet was on the move. Above the clouds the H.M.S Magnificent was able to barely see the green shield that encircled the changeling hive on the horizon. Around it smaller ships buzzed around like insects around a hive, and pegasi encircled those as well. The Magnificent pushed the clouds themselves to the side as it cruised through the evening sky.

Spitfire sat forward in her chair, gazing ahead while she considered her plan. There wasn't much that was known, other then the fact that the changelings were under massive attack from the new griffon weapon, and faced a horde of them incoming from the sky as well. The plan then was to deploy the fleet following a simple intercept and protect vector. The Magnificent would unleash a barrage of fire before falling back, and allowing it's companion vessels to chase off the griffons. Shock and awe was the plan, in essence. The power of Equestria was objectified below her, and she could feel the humm of the great machines engines. 

Once the battle was done, the fleet would leave a carrier behind and return home, victorious.

"Ma'am, there's a flash coming in," A voice said to her side. She spun her chair to see her communications officer- Leftenant Morse, gesturing at his machine. Slightly different then the others, it connected to a large dish outside the bridge that pointed north.

"I hope it's good news," Spitfire commented.

"Says the Changelings.... want... cider?" Morse said, cocking her head at the screen.

Spitfire laughed and spun her chair to the other side towards the engineering officer- Leftenant Stiff Wing -Whom was intently keeping watch of a series of lights, dials, and switches. Occasionally in his watch he would flip one, or grab a nearby microphone to send an order belowdecks.

"Stiff, I know you keep a few barrels of cider below, have them brought to the hanger," Spitfire ordered. 

He seemed crushed, bowing his head before he turned to respond to the order.

"I'll see it done," he glanced back and replied, grabbing the microphone to carry his order out.

Spitfire grinned, and spun forward to watch the fleet coming up on the changeling hive. In a few minutes they would arrive.

"Order the fleet to split- the Valiant and Luna's Fire will cover the rear while the rest will move up with us to assault this force head on- standard formation." Spitfire ordered.

"Yes Ma'am," Lt. Morse said, and clicked away as she sent the order. Ahead two of the smaller ships slowed and split off, quickly disappearing behind the flagship.

Spitfire wore a great grin on her face. One idea burned in her mind like the flame on her flank. Rue. The griffons would rue the day they decided to pick a fight with Equestria- or it's new friends. She leaned forward to peer at the enormous cannons that flanked the deck below.

Rue.

Wildcard continued typing at his machine, but the buzzing stopped as he did so. Confused, he leaned back to look outside- nothing seemed to have changed. A thought occurred to him- the wire. He saw the wire go into the wall, and logically it must run all the way to Equestria in a network, probably as part of the telephone network that ran along the new rail line. 

The griffons had cut it.

Without the ability to continue his task Wildcard found himself relieved, and trotted out to the overlook. The missiles had stopped raining some time ago, the griffons apparently wising up to the fact it was a waste. Eta-Alpha glanced at him.

"Don't you have work to do?" he asked.

"Griffons cut the connection, but there wasn't much to do anyway," Wildcard replied.

"Very well, go see if you can help the fire crews or something, just make yourself useful," Eta-Alpha ordered. Wildcard nodded and leapt off the balcony, taking wing to look around the Hive for some way to make himself useful. First Class came to his side in the air, pecking him on the cheek.

"Good to see you, everything alright up there?" She asked.

"Griffons cut the telephone line, but the calvary is coming. If Canterlot is right, the entire fleet is on the way," Wildcard replied, taking her hoof in his.

"Fantastic, we can show these jokers what happens when you mess with us," She said.

Wildcard smiled, they certainly would. He led her up to near the top of the shield dome and they both looked north, in the distance a black object was rapidly approaching with a cloud of smaller objects around it.

They grinned at each other, and awaited the arrival.

Flash sat back in his seat, the last message he received was rather confusing.

---PRECEDENCE: FLASH---FALSE ALARM---

It couldn't possibly be legitimate, he knew the changeling ambassador personally and he would never do such a thing. Something strange was going on in the south.

---REPEAT LAST--- CLARIFY---

He beckoned his commander over with a flailing hoof once he had sent that.

"What is it, Flash?" Captain Massé asked, leaning in behind Flash to leer at the machine, buzzy already printing the reply.

---FALSE ALARM---FLEET REPORTS ALL CLEAR---CHANGELING TREACHERY---

"I don't get it, sir. For one thing this is entirely out of protocol, and for another the changelings would never try and pull this- why bring the fleet over their own heads on a false alarm? That's like kicking a wild dog," Flash said.

General Massé put a hoof to his chin and thought. "You're right, something is up down there. As you were until we know more, I'll get in touch with the fleet," The general said, and lifted his head to bellow an order.

"Who's on comm with the fleet? Give me a sit rep!" He ordered.

"I am sir! Fleet reports target in sight, engagement soon!" Came the reply.

He leaned back in beside flash.

"Keep them on the line, this is some sort of trick and I want to get to bottom of it," General Massé ordered.

"Tech officer! Up front!" He ordered, returning to his desk as a pony came in beside him.

Flash rubbed his hooves together, he could have some fun with this.

---REQUEST SITREP ON CHANGELINGS---HOW MUCH CIDER DO THEY HAVE----

The response came surprisingly quickly.

---LOTS---

Flash laughed, whoever was on the other end had absolutely no idea what they were doing.

---STEAL IT---

He could hear the general laughing at the front of the room, all of this visible to him.

---WILL DO---

The machine paused for a moment as it switched lines, the command line recognizable by it's bolding.

---TRACKING TO SOMEWHERE ON THE RAIL LINE--- THEY'VE CUT IN----CONTINUE AT OWN DISCRETION----

Flash grinned, perhaps his job wasn't too bad after all, he typed the next response south.

---WHO IS BEST PRINCESS--- 

---LUNA---

Flash was slightly disappointed, he always had a thing for Twilight even if she was out of league by a few dozen social classes.

---WE'RE SENDING LUNA TO PICK YOU UP, SIT TIGHT---

He leaned back in his chair, the responses stopped. The machine hummed quietly to itself.

"Fleet reports contact!" Came a shout beside him.

"Fire!" Spitfire yelled, and the ship shook as the order was carried out. The cannons flashed as they dumped their payloads in a line from bow to stern, firing east towards the griffons. A few seconds of silence later vast explosions tore through the sky, scattering them all.

"Launch the alert Wonderbolts, and move the Zephyr and Sun Spirit to engage directly!" She ordered. Two of the smaller ships tore off from the fleet with their smaller chain cannons blazing away, followed by a cloud of armed pegasi tossing enough crossbow bolts to shade the sky. The griffons were in full retreat, and she could see below the shield covering the changeling hive was dropped.

Unexpected, but not un-prepared for, a trio of griffon airships came through the clouds directly towards them. The lead fired a barrage of shot that made a cacophony as it clanged against the steel hull of the Magnificent.

"Engineering?" Spitfire spun over to see Swift Wing laughing at his station.

"Not a scratch!" He exclaimed.

Spitifre spun back forward and grinned, flicking on a pair of sunglasses she kept entirely for looking cool.

"Engage at will."

As soon as the shield dropped Wildcard and First Class were off like a shot towards the oncoming griffons. A roar from the cannons on the Magnificent sent them scattering behind a wall of fire. Wildcard encircled himself and his wingmate in an invisible shield and flew right through the fire straight at a pair of griffons that was desperately fleeing in the opposite direction. Glancing back Wildcard saw two ships split from the fleet, followed by a cloud of angry pegasi. He grinned and doubled his speed.

"Hold up!" First Class shouted, pulling on Wildcards grey tail. He yelped and came to a hover while she steadied a crossbow she had managed to procure.

Squinting her eyes she took aim at one of the pair, and then let loose the projectile. Wildcard followed it's path through the air and watched as, to his astonishment, she nailed her moving, flying, half a kilometre away, target dead on. The bolt simply bounced off the enemies armour however, only scaring him away even faster.

"Impressive!" Wildcard yelled as the pair were overtaken by the Wonderbolts, the roar of the chain guns firing from the smaller ships adding to the din.

"Academy second year, first in my class at marksmareship!" 

The two started forward again, joining the rear of the pegasi, but were flung backwards as an enormous projective flew past them, barely missing the tip of Wildcards nose. Righting themselves they turned to see it hit the Magnificent.

It bounced off.

"Magnificent," Wildcard said, and turned to face the origin of the projectile. Three small griffon ships were coming out of the clouds at the fleet, one of them had a series of cylinders on it's deck, while the lead one had a single large cannon welded to it's deck. The rear ship seemed to only be a launching platform.

"They brought ships! Now it's a prop-" First Class exclaimed but was drowned out by the huge noise as the cylinders on the deck of the rear ship took off from it, just as a volley from the fleet sent it down in flames. Wildcard intently watched the missiles as they flew directly towards the gunships pursuing the retreating griffons. 

"On me!" Wildcard yelled, and flew off towards them at an incredible pace. First Class tailed him closely, allowing him to spark his alicorn into action. It glowed with the power of magic, and then he pointed it downrange towards the missile. The glow became a blinding shine, and a beam of energy cut through the air, cleaning slicing the missile in half. The rear spiralled to the ground harmlessly, while the front exploded in the air. 

Looking for the second, he was terrified to see he was too late. Before he could fire another beam he saw it smash into it's target, burying itself into the ship before exploding, forcing it down in flames. The crew could be seen abandoning it before it fell to the ground in a fiery explosion.

Wildcard was mad, and he turned his attention to the gunship, watching it darting through oncoming fire from the fleet while the other retreated back smoking. He looked to First Class, and they shared a wide grin.

Spitfire stood up, her eyes reflecting the flames that marked the end of Sun Spirit's career. 

"Comms, did the crew make it out?" Spitfire asked, clearly worried.

"Observers say they did, martial. Looks like the only loss was the ship," Morse replied.

Spitfire fell back in her seat, relieved. She would have to commend the gunner that stopped that other missile too, they would have lost two ships otherwise.

"Flight Control officer, inform the Phoenix One they are clear to go," Spitfire ordered. 

There was a pause of all activity on the bridge, for a moment it was nothing but silence.

"Aye Aye," was the reply.

"And for Celestia's sake hole that other corvette!" Spitfire shouted, the crew startled back into attention.

Wildcard came up behind it, First Class on his wing. They stuck to it like glue, and the griffons on the deck apparently noticed them. A porthole swung open and two of them waved a fire weapon out, throwing an arc of flame behind at their pursuers. It impacted harmlessly, bending around the shield Wildcard had extended. When the flames stopped the two griffons looked at each other incredulously.

First Class grinned and sent a bolt at them, knocking the helmet off one into the air, and sending them scrambling back inside. Wildcard caught the helmet in a green field and threw it inside the porthole, smacking it's owner on the back of the head. Once again charging his alicorn Wildcard aimed it into that hole, and filled it with energy, soon breaching the ship and melting right through the bow. Griffons started leaping off the side of the vessel in a frantic escape as it burst into flames and fell towards the ground. Wildcard stopped and watched it fall, landing with an explosion that felled a few trees.

"Impressive," First Class noted. Wildcard smiled, and turned to her.

He kissed her, and glowed with green energy as dozens of griffon projectiles bounced harmlessly off the sphere surrounding the two. Soon he that they had stopped he turned his head to the retreating griffons, noting that the pursuing pegasi were returning. Before he could think on it more he was blown back by the force of a huge black object passing overhead at incredible speed.

"What the buck was that?!" First Class exclaimed.

Wildcard watched intently as the object, which appeared like a black wing with blue fire propelling it somehow from the rear. It quickly came up on the remaining Griffon ship, which was badly leaning on it's starboard side. 

With a flash from concealed cannons, the black vessel made sure that was the least of it's problems, and blew the rear right off before veering upwards and turning back towards the fleet.

"Beautiful," Wildcard breathed.

Flash, and most of the other signallers in the room, had been fiddling with their machines trying to pass the time. All ears were pointed towards the one connected to the fleet, there had been no reports since making contact five minutes ago. It had seemed like an eternity.

Flash spent the time finding a way to make it rapidly print an image, using a line of letters to make the appearance of a small pegasus darting through clouds.

"Flash coming in!"  an officer shouted.

He bolted upright in his chair and spun it to face the other aisle, the general quickly dashed over and stood behind the officer.

"Fleet... reports... VICTORY,!" He exclaimed.

The room was filled with cheers, Flash was startled as the officer beside him grabbed him in a great hug. He grinned ear to ear, the room was filled with relieved exuberance.

They had met the griffons, and they had won.

Spitfire stood from her chair, confident that the battle was over. Equestria had brought it's full power to bear and she had done her duty, seeing it directed at their enemies expertly. She adjusted her uniform, gleaming four star Wonderbolts crest on her lapel. Taking a quick glance around she was pleased by how well the crew had done in their first engagement, performing like a single organism, which was to be expected.

Equestria was founded on one value: Friendship. Friends protected each other, and that's what she had done. The changelings could rest easy knowing the fleet was there to protect them, and the griffons would think twice before they tried anything like this again. As near as she could tell, neither side had suffered any loss of life, so it was still possible that a full scale war could be averted. Unlikely, but possible. In any case Spitfire was due in Canterlot tomorrow to cast her vote. The Magnificent would stay here with the fleet as a gesture of good will, and the Legion would arrive in the morning to help with any clean up. 

"Communications, have the fleet start heading back- order the Blazing Saddle and Zephyr to stay behind," She ordered, Morse nodded in reply.

"Captain Northstar, you have the conn," She said, opening the door to leave the bridge.

"Aye," Northstar replied.

Spitfire trotted down the halls of the ship, making her way towards the hanger. Her yacht would be in docking, and it was her ride home. Coming from essentially nothing more then a civilian entertainment group to a proper military force had taken some adjustment, but Spitfire felt the role fit her like a glove. She was a force to be reckoned with in the skies by herself, but her real passion was more than that: command. She had risen through the ranks of the Wonderbolts with a speed that had made her the youngest captain in their history years ago, and had led it ever since then. Now she had a fleet, and a force of thousands of pegasi under her. The power she controlled now was more then the sum total of Equestria's a month previous.

And it felt good.

As she left the bridge, pleased to notice the guards outside coming to attention and saluting, she took a deep breath and beheld the deck of the Magnificent. A town in itself, two hundred pegasi made this their home now. Most of the outcroppings were crew quarters for these, and others were weapons storage or assorted machinery to support the great vessel. To think that all this time it had been right under their noses- the flight academy had actually rested on the top of the central mass. As she trotted along she noted the activity around her, pegasi gossiping to each other about how hard they had 'whooped' the griffons. The crew was celebrating their first victory, and rightly so. Ahead a door clanged open and a blue pegasus clambered up from below-decks, a mug of what was probably cider held aloft, and one of her comrades under her wing.

Spitfire crossed her arms and stood, glaring.

"Didya see them run? And that ship, it's almost as fast as me!" She exclaimed to her comrade, and then noticed the Air Martial standing before them, quickly hiding the mug behind herself and coming to attention.

"Air Martial Spitfire!" She shouted, saluting.

"At ease, Wing Commander Dash, and stop trying to hide that," Spitfire turned her glare into a grin, "You've earned it, take some shore leave tonight with your squadron," She suggested.

"Yes ma'am! Thank you ma'am!" Rainbow Dash saluted, and led her comrade past Spitfire.

"...ever had mango juice? I hear it's quite a thing..."

Spitfire smiled and continued on her way. 'shore leave', it was an antique saying from an age when Equestria still sailed the seas, but it had stuck with the Wonderbolts and their pseudo-naval structure. Spitfire was just happy she wasn't called an admiral- she was an, or rather the, Air Martial. The Air Martial opened her wings and flew upwards, opening a door that led into the great superstructure that was the majority of the ships mass. Closing it behind he she turned to see the insides of the hanger.

Everyone had assumed by it's firepower that the Magnifent was a battleship, but it wasn't- it was a battlecarrier, inside this vast room a dozen black vessels stood along the walls, in the middle a long runway that led to the end. They had been commissioned, like the vessel itself, by the Night Patrol thirty years ago. The plan was for the Magnificent to hang back, and launch these at the changeling hive in the dead of night. They would lay waste to the outlaying defences and then the ship itself would move in, blasting anything in the air with its cannons. Ground forces would deploy and sack it following this.

The only thing Spitfire had never been clear on, denied the information by Celestia herself, was why they had felt the need to prepare such an attack. She knew her place though, and let the matter rest. She strode along the central path, unnoticed by the dozens of engineers going about their business, and turned to face her yacht at the front of all the other ships. 

Sure she could fly home by her own wings, but there was nothing quite like the feeling of flying such an elegant ship. The smooth contours hid a significant amount of weaponry behind hidden panels, and the rear engines were like those of the black ships. They could propel her to a magnificent speed and height that even Rainbow Dash would have difficulty emulating. Beside it was a pair of cider barrels. 

The ship had a name. Hurricane.

Flash had remained at his desk, his machine having been re-routed by command to now connect him to a squadron of the Night Guard that was making its way up the rail line- looking for the saboteur that had tapped into the phone line. The connection relied on a portable radio, and was unreliable at best.

---NO-T-HING----ET---

The command engaged, simultaneously on all the machines. All the officers leaned it at once- this was going to be important.

---PRECEDENCE: FLASH---LUNA IS COMING---NIGHT GUARD TAKES COMMAND---

Flash sighed as the machine switched back, the Night Guard had a right to usurp command from the regular forces during the night, and his body was quite tired, but his mind was on fire with the excitement of the day. He wanted more then anything to see it through to the very end. 

A short while of reading messages that amounted to variants on 'we're bored out here', the door swung open and the entire room stood at attention at once.

"Princess Luna!" General Massé addressed. He and all the others saluted.

"At ease, General. You and your men stand relieved," She gestured towards the general and a bat pony brushed past him to take his station.

"I stand relieved," General Massé said, and marched right out the door.  The others followed in a stream, being replaced at their stations by the bats quickly. Flash remained at his, wanting to stay to the very end. His replacement arrived, and she knocked the back his chair.

"Hold on, I'm j-" Flash spun himself around and then nearly fell over.

She was beautiful.

The way her deep blue- almost like the night sky- coloured mane flowed down her grey coat, her yellow eyes that almost seemed to glow in the dull light of the room, split by a lateral bat pupil and orange iris. The way her ears ended in tufts of fur that stood out from them, her silky bat wings almost shimmering in the light...

...and those fangs...

Flash was called to attention as his name was shouted at the head of the room, he stood and the bat quickly took his chair.

"Sergeant Sentry, you stand relieved, pay attention," Luna scolded

"You're highness I would uh.. like to stay and.. observe," Flash said.

She considered it for a moment, glancing across at the bat pony leader that had taken the generals position, he nodded.

"Very well, just don't get in the way. We do things differently at night," Luna said, departing the room with another of the bats on her tail.

Flash took the station beside his own, and powered on the machine.

"Hold on, let me help you there," The officer beside him said, leaning over she quickly flicked an array of switched on the back, and the machine started printing messages from other machines.

"Its the command line, you can watch everything here," She explained.

Flash was stunned, how did she know how to work this so well? He stared at her like she was a god of technology.

"How did you do that?" He asked.

She laughed, turning back to her own station. "We've used these for years, Twilight apparently made the first as a school project and Mezza Luna- our old commander- quickly saw the tactical value," She explained.

"The postal service did too, but most people think they're too complicated," she added, "I think they're just lazy."

And she was a genius too.

Flash had a sudden thought, Luna had somehow known his name despite him being basically nopony, just a minor desk jockey of the castle guard...

"Hey uhh.." He didn't know her name, and now he sounded like a fool.

"...officer?" He tried.

"Echo, We don't really have ranks in the Night Guard," she said.

"Well, Echo- how did Luna know who I was?" Flash asked.

His immediate response was a fit of laughter from beside him, while in the aisle behind him a few snorts of more subtle humour were heard. He ducked his head and leaned in to stare at the tape, pretending to be interested in it.

"Sergeant Sentry, Flash Sentry, The textbook example of how not to respond to intruders, and loose lips. We all had to study what had happened in the Crystal Empire after the fact.. well done," She gave him a sideways smirk.

Flash groaned and slumped into his chair. When a pony jumps out of a mirror, kicks you in the face, and demands to know where the elements of harmony are, it's difficult to keep your mind at any sort of stability. So he told her, he told her that Princess Twilight Sparkle had one, and was in the palace at the time.

He even told her the room number.

The next day he found himself in Canterlot.

"Oh don't worry about it too much, we all screw up," Echo said. "You just screwed up really badly." she added.

He sighed, and watched the paper. Most of the bats were apparently keeping track of border patrols, his companion apparently still tracking the rail-line search.

056---LUNA HAS JOINED---CONTACT PROBABLE---

He leaned back, and wished he had some popcorn.

His wish came true when he remembered the vending machines in the hallway outside.

Wildcard and First Class watched from the courtyard- which had been cleared of debris by the worker drones that set to work repairing the damaged buildings of the hive, as Spitfire's yacht descended from the sky. It was almost entirely silent in its approach, and sent on the ground as gently as a feather. It landed with the glass of its cockpit pointed towards them, Spitfire visible sitting at the pilots seat. A whine could be heard as the rear opened up, and she gestured them forward.

"Well, our ride is here," Wildcard said, greatly thankful he wouldn't have to fly back to Canterlot. His wings were markedly smaller then even a pegsus filly, which meant the same amount of flying the pegasi got up to left him exhausted, and he certainly was.

"Looks like we get the VIP treatment," First Class said as they walked towards the back of the vessel. She ran her hoof along the gleaming white metal, the twilight sky reflected in it.

Spitfire stood at the top of the boarding ramp, looking down on them, a pair of cider barrels rolled past and the courtyard was filled with cheers as a few dozen ponies and changelings brushed past after them.

"Hurry up you two, you're due in Canterlot for the vote in..." she paused and glanced to the side,"... seven hours," she said, disappearing back into the ship. Wildcard and First Class scrambled up the ramp after her, barely entering before it closed.

The inside of the yacht was small, but comfortable. Behind the pilots seat two rows of benches lined the windowless walls. The thick armour and padded walls silenced the outside noise, the only audible thing being the soft humm of whatever powered it. Spitfire immediately pressed the ship into the air, throwing the two back into their seats. The ship turned to the north, and shot forward. 

"Should take us around two hours, you two mind if I turn the radio on?" Spitfire asked.

Wildcard glanced at First Class, she shrugged and lay in his arms.

"No, go for it," Wildcard replied.

The rest of the journey the pair slept, sent to a dreamscape by the sound of smooth jazz.

"We're almost to the end of the line, your Highness, they must be close," The bat pony leading Luna- whom she understood to be Midnight Blossom, said. 

"That's assuming they haven't already run," she said.

Faking orders, it was the mark of a coward. She expected that sort of thing from the changelings, but from the griffons? It proved they were scared. The real question was why they were so militant in the first place: what did they have to gain? Equestria had brought its entire force to bear, in the hopes that it would scare them from pursuing any further aggression. If it failed, Equestria would be in for a long, hard, struggle. She was prepared, but she wasn't sure about her sister. She had ruled in an age of peace and light, Luna had only recently gotten back from a long exile after trying to take over the world. They saw everything differently. Both of them saw the crossroads where the nation stood, her sister would have it walk in the light as long as possible, regardless of what lay at the end. Luna chose to confront the dark, in the hopes of a brighter future.

The hope was that this fleet response would, in essence 'cast a light on the dark', and ensure the griffons would be too afraid of the power seen that day to attack again. Luna knew better than that, they wouldn't have attacked in the first place if they weren't willing to use their whole force, which was massive. Why they were doing it still remained a question.

Her eyes peered forward in the dim night sky, far overhead the rumble of a passing vehicle could be heard. The moon had been raised, as always, but it was yet to cast its soft glow inside the valley where the rail line lay. 

She lit her alicorn, casting a spotlight ahead and scanned around. She sighed, this work was quite dull even if it was important.

"Anything from the border patrols?" She asked the trailing pony, whom had a strange machine attached to a harness. It was comparable to those in Canterlot, with the exception it had no paper- all received information was converted into sound tones that took an expert to decrypt, and a dish that sat on the carriers back, pointed north.

"Nothing but the rain," She replied.

"Hold up!" The lead shouted, causing the group to pause. Luna looked ahead and noticed that the telephone wire had been downed, they had finally found the point where the connection had been broken into. She swept here spotlight around, and found an object on the ground. She gestured forward and Midnight Blossom flew down to it, as her spotlight faded and the area was instead lit by the glow of her alicorn as it charged with magical energy.

"Looks abandoned, it's still connected," Midnight noted.

Luna sighed, the saboteur must have run long ago, so much for excitment.

"Grab it and let us return home, this has become tiresome," Luna ordered.

Midnight nodded, and typed something into the machine before ripping it free of the cables connecting it to the phone line.

Flash remained at his station, having gotten himself a cup of coffee and some popcorn. The Night Guard was intense in how well it communicated, he watched as commands were sent and replied to in mere seconds, and noted that the room had less then half the amount of people in it then before. The Night Guard had certainly been at this far longer, so it shouldn't really be a surprise they were better at it, he thought. While he watched a reply came back from the hive channel that had been left alone since the earlier.

---HE ESCAPED---

Flash sighed, and slumped into his chair. It was expected, but left a dangling loose end to their victory. Griffons weren't known to use that sort of subterfuge, and the changelings were on their side- so who did it?

He remained at his station through the night, the Night Guard reports had become quite boring, but he kept finding new things to do with that machine. He also kept stealing glances at the bat pony beside him, whom seemed too taken with her work to notice. Checking the time on his watch, he noticed it was almost time for the parliament. He was about to stand from his seat when he noticed something- the Crystal Empire line had sent a weird reply, which seemed like garbage noise:

055---INTE333---

He shook his head, it was probably nothing, or maybe it was some technical problem, he rose and left, there wasn't much for him to do today, all of the patrols were set and it was set to be an unremarkable day, for him anyway. For the nation it would be historic.

Flash was too tired to care however, and glanced up at a high tower that rose from Canterlot Castle, he grinned and set off for his favourite spot to take a nap. The morning sun rose, trumpets blared, and government set to work while Flash went to sleep.

Far and away to the north, Shining Armour would disagree with the hypothesis of one 'Flash Sentry' in Canterlot. He stood on the balcony of the Crystal Palace, looking east with his wife beside him. A shield overtook the city, remaining transparent to the outside. He glanced to the side, his wife staring ahead fraught with worry. Following her gaze he knew why.

There was a fleet on the horizon, and help was half a day away. 

They didn't even know the Empire needed help. 


	
	
	
	
> Arc: Procedure
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Spitfire barely even had to pull the steering stick to maneuver her craft between the towers of Canterlot, her other hoof gently  pulling on the throttle, while her legs handled two pedals. It was a difficult craft to fly- managing yaw, roll, pitch, and lateral movement all at once required incredible dexterity. In the hands of a capable pilot, like herself, it was at least as elegant as the pegasi themselves- except markedly faster. She could simply fly by her own wings across the continent, having been a Wonderbolt all her life, but this machine and the others like it gave the Wonderbolts the ability to deploy anywhere within twelve hours, rested and ready, with massive arms to bear. 

Setting the vessel down through the clouds to land in the castle courtyard, she flicked the engine shut down switch, and spun her chair back. The sight of a mare and changeling sleeping in a rather adorable pile would have been incredibly strange less then two months ago, but now it was just cute. 

She had a thought. There was close to five hours until the parliament, and they were adorable together... 

Look back at the control panel she grinned, as expected there was a timer. If she understood it right it was so a paradrop could be coordinated in the dead of night using only time- half an hour from a landmark, drop the troops. It had also been used to wake the pilot if they decided to catch a few winks with the vehicle on autopilot, but nopony talked about that use openly. Spitifire dialed it in to 3 and a half hours, quietly leaving the cockpit with a glance back.

If anything proved Celestia right that the changelings and ponies could co-exist, it was them.

"Air Martial Spitfire!" 

At the bottom of the ramp Spitfire was pleased to see a phalanx of honor guards, all in golden dress uniform, lined up. At the end was General Massé- her counterpart on the recently re-structured 'Legion'. Straightening her uniform she descended the ramp with her held high. It was raining, but she bared it no mind- rain was the least on her mind.

"General Massé! It's good to see you!" Spitfire addressed, sharing salutes with him.

He gestured to the castle, leading Spitfire onwards to it while their honor guard took their sides.

"That was some impressive work last night, Martial. Three for one isn't bad," the general noted.

Spitfire frowned, for a moment breaking her rigid military march, glancing towards the ground.

"Was it, Levee? I should have expected ships, I shouldn't have sent those corve-" A harsh look from the general silenced her.

"Spitfire, I told you before. You're the best Wonderbolt I've ever seen, and a skilled commander- but even you aren't perfect. Start second guessing yourself and you'll lose both honours," He turned his glare to a smile. "Don't worry about it."

Spitfire smiled herself, and regained her confident walk. Together they entered the Castle.

At the top of the Castle, in the highest tower, Sergeant Flash Sentry tried desperately to catch some sleep after being awake for nearly a day. Trying to do so in the barracks was career suicide, although he expected his career couldn't get any lower than 'literally a textbook example of screwing up'. Another round of horns heralded yet another arriving dignitary, and he rolled over on his back with a groan. Normally up here it was quiet, peaceful, and there was a gentle breeze. On a day like today the gentle pitter-patter of the rain would put him right to sleep.

Normally.

Today all the nation's elite were gathered to have a vote of stupendous importance, so historical in it's nature that only a fool could miss it. A fool, or in this case, a stallion that had spent that last day in an adrenaline fueled surge of  activity. He swore his spine ached. 

He had a sudden idea and shot up on four wobbly legs. The Ambassador's room was sound-proofed, a demand of the Changeling Queen. Regardless, he almost always kept the door open, and rarely did anything that he would need to hide. If Flash didn't know otherwise he would think the Ambassador wasn't a changeling at all, instead some bizarre pony double-spy. 

He also really liked cider, and Flash had an ornate carving in his locker worth a significant amount of bits (if ever found anyone to buy it) that he had gotten the Ambassador to ship him entirely because he happened to be buzzed that night.Flash had made it his mission to track all of the antics the Ambassador got up to, and that night had gotten lucky. They had played cards, and while the Ambassador had a remarkable poker face- he still blew it. Flash smiled on recalling what the Ambassador had said, throwing the cards on the table at his loss.

"It's a weapon, Flash. Your cider is a secret weapon, this is an act of war."

It was a joke, obviously, but part of it was true. The Changelings seemed to have a unique love of the drink, beyond even the regular pony. It's effects also seemed tripled.

Flash quickly made his way to the Ambassador's room, managing to put on an air of purpose that allowed him to pass any of the other guards un-noticed. He supposed one of the perks of being basically a desk clerk was nobody cared where you were going.

Finding the the door to the Ambassador's office open, and closing it quietly behind him, Flash sighed and flopped down on a couch against the wall. 

Silence. 

Flash closed his eyes... and then felt something wet on his cheek. Opening them he saw a small dog, wagging it's tail. It leapt up and leaned against him. It was adorable, just a little white poofy puppy.

Did the Ambassador have a dog? Looking closely there wasn't any collar on it, and no food in the room. The Ambassador spent a lot of lot of time out of the city too, so it wouldn't wouldn't make any sense.

Flash winked at the creature, and a secret pact was made to never tell each other about their secret resting area.

Luna arrived on the castle courtyard, heralded by non but herself. She respected her Night Guard enough not to force them to work in the day needlessly, and in any case the parliament would protected by the Legion. Matters of state were an important facet of life as a ruler, but Luna had long since allowed her sister to be the de-facto head of state in most ways. Taxes, laws, petty disputes. Luna did not care about these, she only cared about the grander picture. Equestria had many enemies, and many things that went bump in the night would see it thrown into disarray. This was her duty, the defense of the nation from things that it's citizens would rather forget about. A thousand years past she had tried to usurp her sisters role, and was met with a spiral of unpopularity and mass discontent that led to a rather nasty... confrontation. 

She shook her head, best not to think on that now. The present demanded her attention, and today's vote was definitely more important than 'taxes, laws, and petty disputes'. Today there would be two votes, one which was certain to past and the other... would take more time. First, they would vote to change the currently state of emergency into a more formal, long term, state of war. Second, they would vote on whether to declare war on the griffons. 

Luna took her seat at the head of the meeting chamber, which would normally be the throne room but had hastily been converted by adding several more seats to either side of the throne, and a dozen benches before. The alicorns would sit up front, and held formal voting powers. Ambassador Wildcard of the Changelings also held a single vote, as outlined in the treaty.  Luna found it somewhat strange that a foreign national was given voting powers, but considering the nature of the alliance- which almost made the Hive a province in how melded the two nations so closely- it made a certain amount of sense. Anyway, nobody had actually expected that clause to come into use- the last parliament was a century ago and centered around a drought.

The other members of parliament were a group of nobles, aristocrats, and each of the town mayors. They held no real power, and were there ostensibly to 'inform and debate on the decisions of the crown'. The real purpose, however, was so they could carry out the decisions made by the true rulers of the land. The mayor of Baltimare had turned most of them to Luna's side, but even then it was probably not enough to convince her sister.

Celestia had made her position clear from the start: Equestria would not declare war unless being declared against. That had not happened, true- but the griffons had burnt a city and attacked their allies. The war had been declared, wordlessly. With her vote against, that left the others:

Twilight Sparkle would probably vote with Celestia, she was after all her protege; and barely months into her 'reign'. Cadence would probably also vote for peace, and her husband with her. Both military officials- General Massé and Air Martial Spitfire- would probably vote for a declaration. Ambassador Wildcard would undoubtedly vote for this as well, the Hive was no stranger to violence. In fact, as far as she could tell from their history; living in the south was a near constant struggle of give-and-take with your neighbors. That the hive managed to exist at all either meant Chrysalis was a genius, or far more likely- the changelings fought without fear and struck hard. The events at Canterlot half a year ago had happened because it wasn't supposed to be a fight, Chrysalis was totally confident in her ability to sack the city from the inside and take Celestia's position. Luna snorted as she remembered those events, the Night Guard had wanted to sack the hive in return, but Celestia had blocked it. The H.M.S Magnificent would have to wait six more months to be activated, and was now part of the Wonderbolt Fleet.

Four for, four against. In case of a tie vote the matter was to be debated for a week, and then a tie breaking vote cast by the speaker- whom was to be Princess Celestia's assistant today. During a state of emergency however, the matter only sat for six hours.

With Baltimare a 'zone of exclusion', and the Changelings barely a half day after having been attacked, it was definitely a state of emergency. 

Celestia walked into the room, her shimmering multicolored mane hovering around. She glanced around and then turned to her sister, meditating at her seat, with a look of worry.

"Luna, have you seen Cadence, or Shining Armour? The train was supposed to arrive by now- and they aren't answering any messages." She inquired.

"I have not, perhaps there is some minor delay- I could send a-" Celestia shook her head.

"I'm probably worrying too much, I'll have the Wonderbolts send a ship north- it's probably nothing," She said, and left.

Luna considered this. There was no major defense for the Crystal Empire- what strategic value did a bunch of rolling hills have? Her sister was right, those new machines they had been using were broken as often as they worked, and if they were on a train they wouldn't be able to respond anyway. She would have to see about outfitting the trains with a radio so this didn't happen again. 

She sighed, and slumped into her seat. There were so many things in Equestria that needed to be addressed if they were going to fight a war properly, and most of them they didn't even realize. If this was going to happen, it was going to be painful. 

Spitfire and General Massé had found the refreshment table, and were sharing stories by the morning light. There was no cider, but there was apple pie and a strange brew from the west coast- mango juice.

"Well... it's not bad, a little sweet, but not bad," Spitfire noted. She would have to get some for the crew, would add a little variety to the non-alcoholic cider. None of them actually knew it was, a closely guarded secret.

Most of it anyway, her chief engineer was known to keep a stash of the good stuff.

"Ah, you'll grow into it. This stuff only crept into Ponyville last week and already there's turf-battles between the place selling it, and a cider chain," General Massé said. 

"You're joking?" Spitfire put her glass down, "During a state of emergency? We should be rationing!" 

General Massé shook his head. "Spitfire, if we start down the road of utilitarianism- especially this early then what are we fighting for?" 

She scowled at him, "If we don't, it doesn't ma-" Their argument was cut short when Celestia addressed them from behind, both quickly turning and saluting.

"At ease," Celestia said, and turned to Spitfire. "Spitfire, I need you to check on the Crystal Empire. Cadence isn't here, and they've gone dark, it's probably nothing but we better check up on it," 

"Yes Ma'am, I'll head there myself- I've got the fastest ship in the fleet," Spitfire replied.

Celestia nodded, "Good. Don't worry about the vote, we won't have a quorum without you. We'll await your return."

Spitfire raced out of the room, glad to have a proper mission. Her plan for the vote had been simple- Vote yes for a state of war, vote yes for a declaration, leave. She had no time for trivialities of state, the Wonderbolts needed her. Flying to the Crystal Empire would at least allow her to put off having to the be in the same room as all those nobles.

Ugh

Scrambling up the boarding ramp she slammed the door open and leapt into the pilots seat, swinging it around and immediately engaging the engines. With a low rumble the ship was off. Rain splashing against the window turned into a roar of water before it quickly broke through the clouds.

"Hey, what the buck is going on?" Somepony moaned behind her.

Oops.

No time for that now, she was already soaring into the sky, she reached over and shut off the timer- no point for that now.

"Uh, change of plans- we're going to the crystal empire," Spitfire said.

"What? Why?" First Class asked. "We're due at the castle in.. wait aren't you too?"

"I am, but they can wait- and so can you," Spitfire engaged the autopilot, and spun the seat back.

"Besides, maybe it'll be nice to see Cadence- I'm sure she love love loves changelings," 

Wildcard groaned, burying his face in his hooves. 

"You know, I could say this is an act of war- kidnapping," Wildcard threatened.

Spitfire grinned and crossed her arms. "You won't, you're as reluctant to vote as I am," Spitfire said.

Wildcard paused, a confused look on his face. 

Spitfire gestured to First Class, and then to him. "Tell me, should we go to war?"

"Yes, No." The reply blended into one, and they turned to look at each other while Spitfire just grinned ever wider.

"Well, come on! They burnt a city!" Wildcard argued preemptively.

First Class looked away, and bowed her head.

"Is that what you really think? That we need to go to war? Celestia hopes..."

"Come on! What happened to you? You were rearing to go back at the Hive!" Wildcard exclaimed.

She glared back. "That was then, they attacked us! If we escalate, they'll escalate too, and the whole country will be caught up in it!"

"What then? Just keep allowing them to fight us on their  own terms? How long until something truly bad happens- how long until somebody loses their life?" Wildcard asked.

"That... that can't happen," First Class said, once again looking away. "A life hasn't been lost in violence for generations."

"I've been there, I've seen it. The Hive has been attacked, and has attacked, dozens of times. You need to strike them so that they won't strike you. This has already gone beyond the point of no return- you just can't see it yet," Wildcard argued.

"I... need to think," First Class said, softly, and lay on the bench.

Spitfire turned back to the controls, and the radio back on.  

Five to four.

With few hours of silent cruising, nothing but the smooth jazz on the radio and the dull thrum of the engines, the ship eventually spotted the Crystal Empire on the horizon. A circle of grass in a wide area of tundra, it was like a green oasis in a white desert.

"You two, get up here- take a look at this," Spitfire ordered. The two quickly squeezed beside the pilots seat to look forward.

"Is that fire?" First Class asked.

"It looks like it, but it's not in the city thankfully. Looks like wreckage scattered around- this is a bad sign," Spitfire replied.

Wildcard peered intently forward. As Spitfire said mangled wreckage littered the grounds outside the city, while the city itself appeared fine. The shield was down though, and no enemies could be seen- so what exactly was going on?

"I'll set down near the castle," Spitfire said, gesturing to her side, "Wildcard, send a message back to the fleet for me, there's a radiograph behind one of the panels," 

Wildcard nodded and looked along the wall, tapping at a few panels. The first was a scope, the second a scary assortment of red buttons, and the third contained the radiograph. As he opened it there was a whine from above as a dish popped out of the top of the vehicle.

---PRECEDENCE: FLASH---EMPIRE ATTACK PROBABLE---SEND REINFORCEMENT---

"Done"

Flash was awoken in his nap by the couch shaking as if the earth was moving. Dashing his groggy body to the window he saw the fleet high in the sky turning itself north. The Magnificent seemed like a floating island, and pushed the clouds themselves aside as it moved. Something important was going on out there, something more then just the government debating. He looked back at Wildcards desk, a telex machine beside his typewriter. Peering at it he read the message, and dashed out of the room. The dog took his tail, yapping away. 

He burst into his front office a few minutes afterwards, and sat at his own machine. Adrenaline fueled him now, and he repeated what he had learned earlier to hook into the command line. He would be aware of everything, like an omnipresent god watching through the wires that criss-crossed the country like nerves.'

Another flash came in, and his face was turned white with horror, his vision blurred and he fought back the urge to either pass out, or vomit, or something else. He failed, and passed out at his desk.

The Hurricane set down before the Crystal Imperial Palace, and as soon as the docking ramp was down its three passengers ran outside. Below the palace a circle of armoured guards surrounded a medical cart, its doors wide open. None of them could see what was inside, but it couldn't possibly be anything good. Shining Armour stood to the side, his wife leaning against him. They rushed to them.

"Field Martial, what happened!" Spitfire shouted. He turned glanced back at her, and they all stopped in their tracks as he stared right through them. Wildcard knew that look, and grimaced at the expected follow up.

"The worst has happened," He gestured to the cart. "We lost somepony today."

None of them could find any words. It was Cadence who spoke next, composing herself and turning towards them.

"Get me to Canterlot, we've got work to do,"

As quick as they had arrived, they departed. Wildcard quickly relayed the information before sitting at a bench opposite Shining Amour and Princess Cadence. First Class leaned on him, shivering. 

"If you don't mind me asking, who was it?" Wildcard asked.

"Captain Ironhoof, I delegated most of my duties to him since I would be traveling so often as Field Martial now. He was an older stallion, and didn't have much time left- but it's still a tragedy," He explained.

"I'm truly sorry, if there's any way we c-" Shining cut him off waving his hoof.

"That's not what I meant by 'the worst'," He said, Wildcard squinted, really not anxious to hear what was coming next.

"They stole it," Cadence said. "They stole the heart," 

The ship shuddered as Spitfire reacted.

"They did what?!" She exclaimed. First Class mirrored her.

"We fought as hard as we could, took down a dozen of their ships. But they just kept coming, and coming. I couldn't hold the shield against the barrage, and then as soon as it was down they rushed the palace. Captain Ironhoof died trying to protect it, but they..." she trailed off.

Wildcard shuddered. The worst truly had happened. There was no going back now, if the Griffons stole the Crystal heart- for whatever reason- the ponies would be on a crusade to get to get it back. The death of Ironhoof just fed fire into the flame, and it was a flame that would engulf them all. He had seen war before, but the ponies were strangers to it. They would soon make the mistakes that all nations did, and learn the harsh lessons and realities of real war. Whether they could prevail in the end, he did not know. The griffons were fierce, and had fighting forces at least equal to Equestria and the Changelings. Together they balanced it out, but the independent states to the south raised another problem. The entire continent could easily fall to chaos. 

He swallowed his fear and clutched his love close, the future was uncertain- for all of them.

"Put the radio on," Wildcard said. To the surprise of all the expected smooth jazz didn't fill the air.

"...Citizens of Equestria. This is your superior speaking. I am Grand Martial Galvon, you may remember an ultimatum I gave you one month ago. I have not received any contact, nor any attempts to do so, and thus I view this as a denial of my simple request. I have struck deep into your nation and stolen something very dear to you. I have stolen your 'crystal heart'. To prove your worth as a species; worthy of sharing this world with me, come and take it. 

You can, of course, take the cowards path and surrender, as I have demanded. I will keep the heart as a punishment for ignoring me."

The message gave way to static.

The ship passed the fleet an few short hours later, and an hour past that returned to Canterlot. The Magnificent remained, along with a pair of picket ships; they hovered above the clouds that covered the city below. The way the Magnificent cast a shadow on them while the sun hung over the billowy mass would have been beautiful at any other time.

Coming in for a landing in the courtyard the passengers disembarked to find it deserted, They wasted no time and strode into the castle, finding the parliament had long been in session.

"It's clear now, even clearer then before! They've come, they've hit us, and it's time to hit them back!" One of the delegates shouted, to a cheer.

"If we attack them, then that proves we're no better then they are. The fleet will protect us, and we've lived without the heart before!" Another responded, to an equal cheer.

The group quickly went around and took their seats, First Class taking what would normally be the throne. Celestia looked unbelievably relieved that they had arrived in one peace, as hushed chatter filled the room. On the far side of the throne, which was now occupied by First Class as speaker, sat the two representatives of the military. On the near side Celestia and Luna sat together, beside them Princess Twilight Sparkle. Cadence and Shining Armour took seats beside her. She looked up to them, but got nothing in return as they talked quietly as a pair. Wildcard got the seat on the end of the table.

A guard near the door came to attention, a few steps behind.

"Announcing Princess Cadence, Field Martial Shining Armour, Ambassador Wildcard of the Changelings, and Speaker of the House First Class!" He shouted, and then slunk in his spot out of breath.

First Class set right to it, Wildcard noticed something about her, there was fire in her eye and a feeling of power behind her actions. She hit her gavel on the desk like she was trying to murder it, setting the room silent- a few of the delegates jumping surprised in their seats.

"I hereby call this session to order! Arguments will now be presented, starting with Princess Cadence of the Crystal Empire."

Wildcard was amazing, and slightly attracted, by the power in her voice. He'd never seen her at work before.

Cadence took a breath, and then stood to deliver her speech. Wildcard noticed for the first time that none at the table had anything prepared, only a series of glasses of water lay on it. He had prepared a speech- it was in his office. Useless now after the days events.

"Delegates of parliament, I come before you today in mourning at a great tragedy that has befallen my subjects. Our enemies struck today at the very beating heart of my home, and they struck with a brutality that overwhelmed our meager defense. Today they stole something of vast importance, but they stole something more then an object- they stole a life..." She was forced to pause when a gasp went through the room, the delegates turning to each other with amazement. Celestia slumped in her chair, her sister leaning over with a worried look on her face. General Massé turned to Spitfire, who nodded in return. Wildcard looked at First Class, sitting in what would normally be the throne in the middle of them. There was a tear in her eye, and he suppressed his own emotions.

"Order! There will be order! Procedure will be followed! She shouted with a shaking voice. The din quieted, Cadence continued.

"... I had come today to argue for peace, to argue for restraint, and to argue our enemies were not as bad as we might think," She paused, and elevated herself with her hooves on the table.

"No. I will not allow them to get away with this. This 'high martial' must be brought to justice for his crimes!" She shouted.

Shining came to her side.

"I agree! We should use everything we have to bring this monster down before he causes more grief! I call the vote!" he shouted.

Celestia remained silent, which Wildcard found strange. He himself found nothing to add at the moment and remained as well.

"What about them? Weren't they our enemies half a year ago? They invaded us! Somepony could well have died then, but we're allies now!" A delegate stood and gestured at Wildcard, and he had an opening.

He slammed his hooves on the desk, his wings buzzing with anger. "You dare compare us to the griffons, whom have burned a city, stolen the Crystal Heart, and committed murder? The worst we ever did pales in comparison- and I'll remind the delegate that we have been attacked by the griffons as well!" He yelled straight down at the pony, whom slunk back in his chair.

"Call the vote!" he added.

First Class banged her gavel.

"Very well! The vote is called, and both issues will be voted on as one. Should the The Principality of Equestria and the Dominion of the Crystal Empire declare a state of war, as well as a declaration of war against the Griffon Kingdoms?" She asked in a booming voice.

Another din of shouting was quickly put down.

"Air Martial Spitfire!" 

"Yes!"

"General L.E Massé!" 

"Yes!"

The delegates turned to eachother, the room quickly turning into chaos below. Those at the table ignored it and pressed on.

"Princess Luna!"

"Yes!"

"Princess Celestia!"

The room silenced, and all eyes turned to her. Wildcard was unsure- would the escalation actually sway her, or would she remain committed?

"Abstain." 

Another round of shouting below, First Class banged her gavel once again.

"Order! Only a majority is needed!" She shouted, somewhat quieting them.

"Princess Ca-" 

"Yes!" Came the reply from both Shining Armour and Cadence.

"Princess Twilight Sparkle!"

Once again, silence. Everybody wanted to know if she would follow her own mentor, or strike out on her own.

"Yes!" She shouted, falling back into her seat, trembling.

On her own then, an interesting development. Wildcard felt sorry for her, she was barely a few months into being a ruler, at an incredibly young age no less, and already pressed into making a declaration of war- against her mentors wishes no less.

"Ambassador Wildcard of the Changelings!"

Before he could respond one of the delegates rushed the table, two guards quickly leaping on him.

"Why does he get a vote? He's not one of us!" He shouted.

"Need I remind the respected delegate that we're in this too?" Wildcard leaned down and said to him.

"I vote yes!" he shouted.

First Class banged her gavel.

"By a vote of 7 yes, and one abstention, The Principality of Equestria and the Dominion of the Crystal Empire is now at war with the Griffon Kingdoms."

A cheer of patriotic fervor filled the room, a few dozen rowdy dissidents quickly getting led out by the guards. The clear majority approved.

Celestia silently slunk out of the side door, her sister on her tail. Twilight, Cadence, and Shining Armour followed shortly, Spitfire and General Massé seemed busy discussing something. First Class sunk into her seat, staring ahead vacantly, spinning the gavel around in her hoof.

Wildcard came up and tapped her on the shoulder, the looked up at him with a faint smile.

"Well, you were right," She said.

"I wish I wasn't," He replied.

He really, really did.

	
> Short: Fleet Day
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Spitfire had been the Captain of the Wonderbolts for 13 years before she became Air Martial, the youngest Captain in their long history. As a matter of fact there was a little known regulation that set the minimum age at 20, which she had quietly repealed upon taking the reigns at 17. Nearly all of her speed records had been broken by Rainbow Dash, who seemed like some sort of mythical legend come to Equestria to show them all up, but Spitfire was something she could never be- a  great leader. Behind her desk in her quarters on the Magnificent were two things. The first was a display case of her medals and ribbons- Spitfire knew that she commanded respect without them on her uniform, and the second was the only known remaining portrait of Commander Hurricane. Spitfire had it moved from her home to her quarters here, knowing that he would be proud to know what his children would accomplish in the future. The Magnificent was a testament to the resolve of the pegasi that crewed it, the strength of the earth ponies that built it, and the powerful magic of the unicorns that gave it life. It was he who re-formed the Pegasus National Military into the Wonderbolts following the long bitter infighting between the races, and Spitfire was proud to be at the helm of the great institution. His lineage was long since lost to history, but Spitfire knew in her heart that his blood ran through her veins. 

Upon receiving the fleet she had even renamed her chosen ship, an extremely fast experimental scout aircraft, after him. That ship was up in the main hanger now, parked behind a dozen similar vehicles. Those were the Phoenix craft, and were created thirty years by the Night Guard in secret. They could carry a heavy payload silently, quickly, and unseen high in the sky. They were now used to great effect to strike griffon rocket launching sites in the dead of night, and had effectively removed that threat from Baltimare. The only downside was that these were strategic weapons- they pilots could see the ground only as well as the ground could see them, so if there was even a minimal chance of friendly forces nearby they couldn't be used. They also tended to overheat relatively fast, which meant if they wanted to start bombing the griffon home islands they would need a staging ground. With these craft, the ferocity of the Legion on the ground, and the Night Guard keeping up the assault at night to deny the griffon occupiers even the slightest rest, they had slowly but surely carved their way through Baltimare. 

At this point most of the city itself was clear, with only the dockyard island remaining to be taken. The leadership had agreed that their forces would take some rest and refit time before the final push, for as soon as that was done the campaign in the ocean would begin, and they would need to keep the momentum as long as possible. Dozens of islands were along the ocean between Equestria and the Griffon Home Islands, and they would each need to be taken in turn. It would long, it would be hard, but Equestria will prevail.

Thus, the Magnificent was docked near Canterlot, and most of it's crew was aground on leave. Princess Luna herself was taking some time during the day to inspect the ship, and Spitfire greatly looked forward to some one on one time with the Princess of the Night. The two had similar ideas of how to properly run this war, and how to lead. As much as Spitfire respected Princess Celestia, war was no place for the sun. War was a darkness that needed to be met head on with all ones strength, sparing nothing for later and going for total commitment. With Luna in charge, the war would be won by Hearths Warming. Spitfire hoped to convince her to give her additional support in her time on the ship.

In order to hide the fact that they were preparing for a major offensive, the media had been informed that this was part of 'Fleet Day'. There was even a parade down in the city, Spitfire had Wing Commander Rainbow Dash lead it, allowing herself to ignore it. She had a feeling she would regret this, the ship had difficulty carrying that mares ego already.  

Spitifire strolled along the deck amongst the buildings that lined it. The Wonderbolt's entire organization was run from here now, and within these buildings all the institutions of a modern military were housed. Signals intelligence, logistics, flight control, and a large cafeteria- the ship was more a flying city then anything. When it came time to fight though, it became a fortress. Spitfire glanced to her side at the evidence of that- enormous cannons that ran the length of the deck. They fired shells the size of the average pony at a speed that ensured anything they hit was rarely seen again. As well as the obvious use in ship to ship combat, which was somewhat rare considering the command and control nature of the vessel, they provided artillery support with a vast range. Thus far this ability had not been used, since the fighting was within an Equestrian city, but soon enough it would be put to the test. 

It was at this point that Spitfire realized she had picked up a tail at some point, and glanced back to see a young pegasus following her some distance back. His uniform was blank, rankless. No rank meant that he was a cadet, either barely out of the academy or recently brought in as a reservist.

"You got something to say, Cadet?" Spitfire addressed. The pony quickly darted forward and awkwardly trotted behind her.

"I uh, I was wondering if I uh... could get your autograph?" He asked.

Spitfire rolled her eyes and looked shook her head, turning her glance back forward. "Go find me a transfer request, and I'll do it," She said. 

This was followed by the frantic flutter of wings and she grinned, that pegasus was in for a big surprise w-

"Got it!" He shouted. Spitfire halted and turned, finding to her surprise he had somehow already acquired one. He held it forward in a trembling hoof.

Spitfire took it, and used her wing to grab a pen from her pocket. "An academy record, what's your name cadet?" She asked.

"Rain Shimmer, ma'am!" He replied.

Spitfire jotted down his name, and assigned him to janitorial duty. 

She then signed it, and handed it back. She didn't expect him to actually file it, but no officer could pass up the chance to mess with a cadet. As far as Spitfire was concerned, half of their existence was to provide entertainment for senior officers.

Approaching the end of the deck, after a good ten minutes of trotting, Spitfire saw the buildings of Canterlot beyond the few dozen ramps that lead down into the city. The ship was nearly the length of the city itself, and it had been a popular sightseeing spot before the war, but today the citizens were occupied by the parade and other festivities in the city. This would allow Spitfire and Luna time to themselves. Only a skeleton crew remained on the ship, and for the most part they were busy working. Signals Intelligence specifically was busy trying to find out how the attack on Manehatten had happened without anypony knowing beforehand, and what exactly that Saddle Arabian passport that had been found- a few days earlier in Baltimare, meant. The Night Guard had looked it over, but they were stumped too. The Saddle Arabians had never made any overt threats, and didn't seem to friendly with the Griffons either, it was a perplexing find.

Spitfire had her own mystery she hoped to solve: why did the Night Guard see fit to commission such a huge vessel of war during peacetime? She knew full well it was unwise to look a gift battlecarrier in the mouth, but this question had been pestering her for some time. Celestia had flatly denied explaining it, but perhaps Luna would be more forthcoming. 

Checking her watch, she noted it was a minute to noon. Luna was scheduled to arrive at noon on the dot, she was as punctual as Spitfire. Adjusting her uniform, straightening her badge and insignia, she slicked her hair back and waited. Sixty seconds later a gleam in the sky heralded the arrival of the Princess of the Night, whom was up rather late today. If Spitfire was judging right, she had to shift her schedule to keep up with the war, and was delegating most of the Night Guard duties to her second. 

Spitfire didn't have a second, the closest would be Captain Northstar, whom was in charge of the Magnificent when Spitifire was otherwise occupied. She preferred to run the show herself, but didn't disrespect Luna for running hers differently. 

Princess Luna came to the ground at the bottom of the ramp, and strode up with dignity towards Spitfire.

"Princess Luna!" Spitfire addressed, saluting smartly.

"Air Martial Spitfire, at ease," Luna said, replying with a nod. 

"I have been eager to see this vessel, not even I knew of its existence until recently," She said, coming up before Spitfire.

Spitfire turned and led her down the 'street' that ran along the centre of the deck. "Really? I would have thought you of all ponies would know about it," She commented.

"Alas no. Its existence was buried deep in the archives, and I had only just begun catching up on ancient history when I was informed of its existence. They fought quite hard against me giving it to you, you know," Luna said, glancing around at the buildings as they passed.

"Are all of these buildings crewed? It seems more like a city then a warship," She noted.

Spitfire reached into her uniform for a pamphlet, and handed it back to Luna. "Most of them are quarters or mechanical, but we also have all the elements of a modern army up here," She said, and pointed forward to one of the taller buildings in the middle of the deck. "We even have our own signals intelligence up here, in fact most of Cloudsdale lives here now."

"Ah, intelligence. The fine art of keeping your enemy blind while you see everything, I imagine they have their work cut out for them, the scale of intelligence failures thus far in this war is disturbing," She said, skimming through the pamphlet. In it she would find all the important details of the ship and her crew, Spitfire put it together personally.

"I quite agree, and I'll ensure that Manehatten is not repeated. As soon as we get over the ocean we'll be fighting on our terms- not theirs," Spitfire said.

Luna put a hoof on her shoulder and halted the pair, slipping the document in her armour. "Spitfire, be careful you don't take on this burden entirely by yourself- you'll burn out. This is a national effort, don't forget that we have each others backs," She said.

Spitfire turned to her. "I understand, but the Wonderbolts are the only ones capable of taking the lead on this, and that actually brings me to a point- we need a ground force," Spitfire said.

"Yes, I understand you've been discussing the matter of creating a 'Marine Corps' with the Field Martial, if you're expecting me to go around his back and order it done your way, you're sorely mistaken. I couldn't even if I wanted to, you know full well he could veto that unless my sister backed me- and you know full well she won't," Luna said.

Spitfire nodded. "I do, but we both know the solution to that."

"Regency," They both said at once.

"Would the others follow though?" Spitfire asked.

"I am not certain. Field Martial Armour would probably vote for his own wife, but if she decided to vote for me then it would make two votes in our pocket. Twilight Sparkle remains an unknown, and my sisters vote will either be for herself or an abstention," Luna said.

"What about the General?" Spitfire asked.

"He'll vote for Celestia, of that I am certain. His loyalty to her is as total as it is misplaced," Luna replied.

"So if we convince Princess Cadence, her husband, and Twilight..." Spitfire said

"Then, and only then, will the vote be called. If it is to be called then I must be assured to win, or it would only lead to instability," Luna said.

Spitfire nodded, and continued back down the road. "I don't think Twilight will need much convincing, and we only need to remind the Princess and the Field Martial about the loss at the Crystal Empire. If we can convince them that you're best suited to bring them justice, then we'll have it," She said.

"You seem quite eager to support me, almost to the point of disloyalty to Princess Celestia- that's not the case, is it?" Luna asked from behind, a threat hidden in her slightly deepened voice.

"No, no I j-" Luna cut Spitfire off, her voice seeming to cut into her head from behind. "Good, as long as she remains Princess you will follow the orders of my sister as you would me, to whatever end, understood?" Luna demanded,

Spitfire spun on her heals and did a quick salute. "Yes ma'am!" She responded, almost subconsciously.

"Good," Luna said. "I am eager to see where the power for this vessel is generated, so please lead the way to your engineering deck," She ordered.

Spitfire nodded and led her to one of the buildings, spinning open a large door to reveal a dim stairway that led into the bowels of the ship. Luna had to duck down to enter, but managed to retain her grace in doing so. 

"Rather cramped in here," Luna noted. "Is the engineering crew all pegasi?" She asked.

"They are yes, mostly cadets," Spitfire replied as she opened the door at the bottom.

"That seems inefficient, shouldn't the fliers be... flying?" 

Spitfire swung door open and glanced back. "I agree, but we don't have the horsepower for that, perhaps if we h-"

"You've already made it quite clear that you want additional support, but the Legion is stretched thin too. What we need is a draft," Luna said, stepping after her into the wide, low, hallway beyond.

"How many could we draft? Field Marshal Shining wouldn't tell me," Spitfire asked.

"Fifty thousand in the first round, potentially as many as half a million but that would basically put the entire adult population at war, I would rather we not go that far," Luna said.

"That's almost half of what we have now, it would certainly help," Spitfire said, leading her down the seemingly endless hallway.

"Don't get to ambitious just yet. Remember the reserves had basic training- conscripts have nothing," Luna warned.

"Still, we could move our trained units to the front, and use conscripts for logistics and grease monkey work, more hooves on deck is always good," Spitfire noted.

"Agreed, now how long is this hallway?" Luna asked.

"It goes around the rim of the entire ship underneath, but the engine room isn't far ahead," Spitfire replied, gesturing upwards at a growing series of pipes.

Luna nodded, and they trotted amongst the hum of machinery for a bit before coming on a pair of great steel doors that separated the pale blue hallway from the great machinery that powered it all. Spitfire paused for a second to grin at Luna, and then quickly opened the doors. Pushing them inside she strode in, the deep green light of powered alicornium streaming back into the hallway. Luna followed her, and the doors slammed themselves shut quickly thereafter- an important safety measure. If anything happened to the engine it was designed so that it would sacrifice itself and drop right out of the bottom of the ship; the whole room was sealed as a separate compartment. The alicornium was the important part, and could recovered from the wreckage, a second generator is much easier to build then having to rebuild the entire ship if the engine ever went up.

Spitfire never stopped being in awe of the main generator, a gigantic device nearly a story tall covered with thick steel, inside of which a kilogram of alicornium slowly burnt to boil water, which in turn powered a turbine and created more power then most cities of Equestria. It was too bad the mineral was so rare; this kilogram represented a half years supply, and the Crystal Empire had only recently returned allowing for more to be mined. Equestria had a total of ten kilograms in reserve, and one would power the Magnificent for a year. If anypony ever figured out how to release the energy contained in the material at once, instead of slowly, the world itself could be cracked open. 

The green glow was a byproduct of the magical energy being given off, and was entirely harmless. Unicorns of ancient times had used the material in weapons to strengthen the user, the most famous of which was Starswirls staff- entirely made of it. 

A skeleton crew kept watch on a few dials here and there, and were too busy to notice the pair entering the room. The great hum of the machine meant most of them wore ear protection for their own safety, and if the ship started cruising the turbine would create a cacophonous noise. The alicornium itself was entirely safe, but the machinery powered by it required continued maintenance and inspection to ensure the engine didn't tear itself apart. 

"It's absolutely beautiful, I could not have imagined such a thing, how much power does it produce?" Luna asked.

"Twenty megawatts at full load, although it only takes five or six to power the ship on standby like this," Spitfire said sticking her chest out with pride.

"Amazing. Once the war is won we'll have to start using this technology in the civilian sector, the possibilities are endless," Luna said, and slowly trotted towards the machine, looking up at it with awe.

Spitfire got the attention of one of the cadets, and he pulled down a lever. A small panel covering the generator opened up, and Spitfire pointed at it.

"You can have a look inside, if you want," She suggested.

Luna nodded and approached it, "I would like nothing more," She said, and ducked down to peer inside the thick glass panel. Inside she could clearly see the glowing green sphere of alicornium, surrounded by water. At the top there was a series of holes through which the steam would rise, and somewhere above there the turbine perpetually spun. The alicornium itself had a curious look, it was a strange silver that seemed to be reflective, but the reflection was, to try and find some sort of fitting description: not of this world. It seemed to reflect strange coloured stars despite being encapsulated in a great machine.

Her curiosity sated, Luna closed the porthole and turned back to Spitfire, who stood proudly near the door.

"Fascinating, now let us depart for the hanger, I want to see these 'Pheonix' craft," Luna ordered. Spitfire nodded and led her back out into the hallway, and up another access passage to the deck. The hanger was the majority of the vessals volume, and from a distance appeared like a gigantic metal balloon that hung over the deck. Most thought this contained some sort of gas that lifted the craft, and it was designed to appear so. The griffons hadn't figured it out yet, and had been wasting their efforts shooting at what was essentially an armored hollow building. Spitfire gestured up at it when they were outside. 

"There's a dozen of them housed up there, there's no access ladders, so we'll have to fly up," She said.

"Lead the way then," Luna said, and opened her wings. 

Spitfire nodded and did the same, leading the pair upwards to a catwalk that ran the along the bottom, shortly ahead was a door that led inside. Opening it Spitfire struggled for a second as the air inside blew it back, and she stepped inside. Luna closed it behind her with absolutely no effort. 

Spitfire hid her amazement, the door in itself weighed a few hundred pounds, but the wind added to that. She didn't even use magic, Luna just grabbed the thing and closed it like it was nothing. 

This was who should be running the war, somepony unafraid of showing their strength.

Spitfire opened the second door, and beckoned Luna forward into the hanger, closing it behind her herself. It creaked shut and then she turned to look at the bay, with five black ships lined up on either side of the dotted runway. The hanger was closed at the moment, but a few spotlights on the ceiling highlighted them. Otherwise, it was dark as night. 

"So these are the craft that have seen an entire island leveled, correct?" Luna asked, trotting over to inspect one while Spitfire followed.

She was referring to the flattening of an island east of Baltimare that the Griffons had used to launch long range rockets at the city. One of the first tasks was to clear it, and by Luna was it cleared.

"That's right, we haven't done much with them since then, but they stand ready to do it again," Spitfire replied.

Luna walked around one- Pheonix 9, while Spitfire watched. She inspected every inch of the wing shaped vessel before turning back to the Air Martial.

"I imagine it's powered by alicornium?" She asked, staring down its wide rear jets.

"That's right, each one has a stick of a hundred grams that powers the levitation magic- tends to overheat the metal though," Spitfire replied.

Luna nodded, and came back to Spitfire. "I see, we'll have to correct that in the future, we've begun working on plans for a conventional version," she said.

"You are?" Spitfire asked, amazed and excited to hear that something even more high tech was in the works.

"We are, using something called a 'jet engine', but it will be years before a practical design is made. By then I very much hope we aren't still at war," She explained, and gestured to the end of the runway. Spitfire's personal craft- the Hurricane, could be seen. About as large as the Pheonix's, it was instead designed as a personal transport with room for about a half dozen passengers and a tonne of cargo. It retained the wing shape, but was much thinner. Its only armament was a small gun under a hidden panel, this along with the thin armour meant it would be unwise to get into a fight with it.

This was no major problem, since there wasn't anybody in the world that could touch this sort of technology in the first place. Frankly Spitfire wondered why they bothered to arm it at all, it was like a bit of science fiction had come to life. 

"I imagine that's the Hurricane, I've heard a lot about it," Luna said.

Spitfire sighed, "She's beautiful, I could cross the ocean in a half day with her, absolutely amazing," She said, gazing lovingly at it.

She really did love it, and would often go out alone just to experience the thrill of flying it. This was more of an art then a science, as the numerous levers and sticks that were required to move a vehicle in three dimensions required constant attention, and a very agile pilot. Spitfire was quite good at it, and could probably thread a needle with the Hurricane if she needed to.

Luna grinned and patted her on the back. "I'm glad to hear you got your pick of the litter," she said.

She put a hoof to her chin and then lit up, galloping over to one of the Phoenixes.

"Air Martial, I have had a sudden flash of insight, come over here!" Luna shouted frantically. Spitfire quickly came to her side and found her pointing at the ships undercarriage.

"Put a camera in the bay, and fly it over the enemy. We could spy on them from such a distance they could do nothing to stop us; we would see everything."

She paused to consider this for a moment. "Well, actually I suppose we would only be able to see larger objects, or buildings, but it's a significant gain. Imagine knowing exactly how exactly the enemy force before engaging, and their formation," she added.

"If we knew the placement, it would greatly aid in planning," Spitfire said.

Luna nodded. "I only hope the griffons don't possess this technology too, they've surprised us in the past, they may well do it again," she said.

"We're prepared for anything they can throw at us," Spitfire boasted.

Luna laughed, and took her by the shoulder, gesturing at the assembled power in the hanger.

"I admire the enthusiasm, but no amount of technology, weapons, or hubris makes you invincible. We're all mortal, remember that," Luna warned.

She released Spitfire and glanced at the nearby doorway. "With that, I think I will take my leave, I will rest assured the fleet, and its flag, are in good hands," Luna said.

Spitfire coughed, and Luna frowned at the obvious call for attention.

"If you want to say something, just say it, Air Martial," She ordered.

"Princess Luna, I was wondering if you could tell me just why this ship was built in the first place- it's remained a mystery," She asked.

"In due time, I fear the truth would cause... complications right now. Do your duty, and forget about it," She said, a slant of threat in the final words.

Spitfire reluctantly saluted. "Yes ma'am, will do ma'am," she said.

Luna met her salute, and went to open the door.

"Good, the best officer knows their place- remember that," She said, and left Spitfire in the hanger.

She sighed, disappointed at the lack of explanation. It just didn't add up- why in Celestia's name did they see fit to build a giant battlecarrier, with stealth aircraft the likes of which had been only on the outskirts of imagination, and then never do anything with it? They couldn't possibly have built it as a 'just in case' measure, it would have been public knowledge then; as a warning to anybody that might attack. And why stealth, there was no defensive use for these craft- they were purely offensive in their role. If Spitfire didn't know otherwise, she would almost think Equestria wanted to invade somebody. 

With a shake of her head, she cleared the idea. It was the simplest answer- but raised questions of it's own. The most obvious was who scared the leadership enough for them to commission this. The griffons hadn't made any overt threats, the Zebras had been on good terms for centuries, and the Saddle Arabians were on the other side of the ocean, too far for any meaningful contact. The independent states weren't any real threat, and that only left...

The changelings.

Spitfire gasped, and leaned against the wall to think on this revelation. It explained everything. The need for stealth, the massive size, the plan must have been to totally destroy the entire hive. The question now was what had sparked such an idea, generally Celestia had maintained a rough peace with the changelings, allowing them to exist while ensuring they stayed out of Equestria. What had they done to make the Night Guard build all this?

Startled almost out of her skin by a light touch on her shoulder, she spun around to see a bat pony in the dark, subtly glowing eyes staring at her. 

"Good afternoon," She said before Spitfire could react, and came out of the dark. She was old, quite old, and wore armour at least as old as herself. "My name is Mezza Luna, and I have an offer to make."

Spitfire took a second to collect herself, feeling her fur stand on end as she was intensely creeped out by the grinning bat gazing at her.

"What would that be?" She asked.

Mezza Luna pointed towards one of the Pheonix's.

"Give us one of them, and we'll give you the missiles we've designed," She offered.

Spitfire considered this for a moment before replying. "If I recall correctly, we're due to receive those missiles anyway, and what could you possibly want with a Pheonix?" She returned.

"What we do with it is no concern, and as for that... well let's just say accidents happen."

"Is that a threat? I could have you arrested for treason right now, Princess Luna would be dis-" 

"Who's she going to believe 'air martial'? Her second in command, or a pegasus with delusions of power? She already clearly suspects you of wanting more power- how about I make sure she finds proof?" Mezza threatened.

Spitfire stared her down, but didn't see any way out of this. If the Night Guard turned against her they could ruin her in an instant. Something strange was going on here, but for now there was no way for Spitfire to act against it. 

"Why not put this through official channels?" Spitfire asked.

"I would rather certain parties not know about this, and I assume I can be sure you won't be chatty about our little deal, will you?"

"I wasn't aware we had made a deal yet, but yes," Spitfire replied.

"Oh I think we do, take the Pheonix Two to the Hollow Shades as soon as you can, and my people will take from there," Mezza said, and backed into the darkness.

"Why the Pheonix Two?" Spitfire asked. She was met with silence, and a few moments later a door some ways away clanked open, and then shut. 

Spitfire sat on the floor, and rubbed her forehead. Her hooves seemed to be tied here- there was nobody she could go to that wouldn't expect her of simply making this up to discredit the Night Guard, she had been quite vocal of her opposition to them remaining independent, instead of part of the Wonderbolts or even the Legion. 

In any case, as strange as the deal seemed, they were still on the same side. Whatever their need for a stealth craft may be, it was surely against the griffons. The fleet did need those missiles too, otherwise they would have a hard fight ahead of them when the fighting turned to the oceanic islands. Spitfire steeled herself to her task, and quickly boarded the Phoenix Two. She had the authority to take it out, and if anybody asked where it went she could simply tell them it was in for repairs, or transferred to a different ship. The fleet was her personal responsibility, and it would be easy enough to cover up. The Night Guard would probably do their own coverup too.

Slipping herself into the pilots seat she flicked the switches to start the engine, and was greeted with the low hum of the powerful turbine and jets. Going through the basic pre-flight she noticed something strange, the flight time meter- which tracked the total time the engine was powered on, was a few dozen hours ahead of where it should be. Spitfire knew exactly how many flights these craft had gone on, and they always went as a group. She also knew that there was no way somepony could take one out without her knowing about it, so theft was an impossibility. No, somepony must have flown it before the Wonderbolts had received them, but why, and when?

Spitfire sighed, and put on the headset to contact flight control. Just another question to add to the every growing pile. War was supposed to be simple- find and crush your enemy. This was proving to be anything but.

Flicking a switch to turn the radio on, Spitfire adjusted the headset and spoke into the microphone.

"Magnificent Flight Control, this is Pheonix Two, Please respond." 

A short burst of static later the reply came. "This is flight control, you're not cleared for any flights today- who is this?" The controller demanded.

"This is Air Martial Spitfire, and I'm clearing myself for immediate departure.

There was a short pause before he replied. "Uh, you've got no flight plan registered- protco-"

"Damn the protocol, if you don't open these doors I'll come up there and open them myself!" Spitfire yelled into the mic.

Another short pause. "Uhh, roger that ma'am... I'll have to log this though."

"What's your name and rank?" Spitfire asked.

"Pilot Officer Beacon ma'am," he replied.

"Well, Officer Beacon, there will be no log, and this conversation is classified top secret, you got that?" Spitfire barked.

"Uh, yes ma'am!" He replied, and with a great clank the doors at the end of the hanger began to open. "You're clear for immediate departure ma'am," He said.

Spitfire gently moved the craft forward and pointed it down the runway. Throwing the throttle forward the Phoenix shot forward, and crushed her in the seat. She was quite eager to get this cloak and dagger idiocy done with and put it behind her. A half minute later she shot out of the magnificent and Spitfire pulled it straight into the sky. High enough to see all the way to the Crystal Empire, she turned it north and set in for the few hours it would take to reach the Hollow Shades. Outside was a beautiful cloudless afternoon, but a dark cloud hung over Spitfire. She settled in for the journey, and turned on the radio. Nothing but smooth jazz.

The Hollow Shades was her destination, a strange place indeed. It was the only place outside of the Canterlot Mountain where you could find Bat Ponies, and was their industrial base- firing coal underground was rather unwise. It was here where most of the new weapons were produced, and it sat under a perpetual fake night created by magic. The history of the place was hazy, but Spitfire was fairly certain it was first founded a thousand years ago, as a way to give the bats the eternal night they so desired. Once she came within sight of it, she noticed a line of lights in a patch of cleared trees. A runway, clever. 

Spitfire lowered the throttle and extended the flaps, nosing the craft down towards the runway ahead with the sun starting its low descent in the distance. As she lowered, so did it, and when the wheels touched down on the runway she found herself in the middle of the night, a neat trick of magic. At the end a series of lights beckoned her forward, and she came to a halt before a landed barge and a dozen bat ponies, gazing at the ship with awe. Spitfire sighed, and patted the board after shutting down the engine. One less Phoenix.

When Spitfire opened the hatch to leave, she found the bat's had already started draping a tarp over the ship. One of them waited outside for her, and when she jumped down from the ship that bat addressed her.

"You've done a good turn for the Night Guard, there's a dozen missiles in the barge here, and you'll get more as we make them," He said, gesturing back at it.

"Good, now what exactly do you want with this, why all the secrecy?" Spitfire demanded, hoping to get something out of him.

He simply grinned. "All in good time, Martial. We'll take it from here, I suggest you head home and forget about all this," He said, and pushed past Spitfire with a quick salute. 

Spitfire shook her head and flew over to the barge, it was a moldy old wooden airship of the same type that had been flying around for decades, and below the deck a rack of a dozen gleaming metal cylinders were stored, along with a few dozen booklets labelled "ATA1 AND YOU- GIVE EM HELL" Spitfire took one with her above decks, and cut the ballast. As it rose into the sky the fake night faded, and she burst through into the mid afternoon. She then turned the barge south, and propped the wheel up with a stick. It would be a good half day before she arrived at Canterlot. leaving Spitfire plenty of time to learn how to operate these weapons. She decided to take this day as a victory, with these the Wonderbolts could finally take the offensive against the griffon fleet, and they would be ready to proceed with the final steps of the liberation of Baltimare. Putting all the questions in her mind behind her, she focused on that. Within days they would finally have the Griffons off the continent, and the real war would begin. 

	

	
	

	

	
	
	
	
> Short: Wetwork
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Five years ago, there lived a Prince in the independent state of Boraelia. This prince had a plan, a very simple plan- crush the changeling hive that had caused so much havoc in the independent states for so long, and then turn around and use the good will that was sure to pour in to unify the independent states into one kingdom, then crown himself King. Create a dynasty, live the high life- why hadn't anyone thought of this before?

The answer is that many had, and many had met their end as he was about to. Queen Chrysalis had many eyes and ears all over the continent, and as soon as they heard a threat she had ways of... dealing with it.

Changeling Eta-Zeta had arrived at the castle of Prince Prickletree early in the morning. He had been assigned the identity of one the guards, whom was currently passed out in a ditch having found out first hand that when a mare asks you for a good time, it's best to just keep walking.  This was his first real mission, and nothing was going to stand in his way. He would carry out his orders precisely and efficiently, and report home his success. Finally he would become a Gamma, and earn the respect of his superiors, and the Queen.

After a long days march Eta-Zeta finally spotted the tip of Prince Prickletree's castle through the trees. The independent states were in an incredibly diverse area that made up the lower half of the continent, and everything from arctic tundra in the far south, to the desert in the north, made up it's geography. Boraelia was the second most northerly state, and while it didn't occupy much space it's rolling temperate hills had a far longer growing season than most states, selling this food had made it rich. This money was put to good use, as the Prince had spent the last few years building up his military to unprecedented scale.

The trouble with power was it tended to attract suspicion as to what you were going to do with that power. This Prince, apparently, only wanted more. At some point power can no longer be earned, it has to be taken, and he was going to find out just how zealously those with power defended it.

Eta-Zeta ducked off the road into the trees, removing a few things from his pack to ensure he was prepared for his mission.

Firstly, a steel dagger in a sheath, which he had stolen from the guard he was to disguise as. As well as completing his disguise, it would have other uses if need be.

Secondly, a short dossier on the guard he was to disguise as. Zeta quickly memorized the key points- birthdate, favorite colour, etc. To most outsiders it would seem trivial to track these things, but it was important for a well prepared agent to know absolutely everything about the assumed identity. It was unlikely to come up, but forgetting your own birthday was a one way ticket to a dungeon. His name was Halberd, earthpony. he had a grey mane with a light blue coat. Birthdate the fifth of March, favourite colour was red. He liked to read comics in his spare time, and had a thing for one of the maids. Left hoofed, cutie mark of a halberd (as expected) Zeta knew all this and more, it was burnt into his memory.

Thirdly, a second sealed dossier- his escape. If he was found out he could use it to quickly assume an identity, and run. The incredible difficulty of memorizing another beings shape; size, colour, voice, etc, all required intense amounts of memorization. This meant that even the most elite changeling agents could only 'hold' a single disguise at a time. While it was possible to invent a general disguise, or approximate one based off personally seeing the target, without the specific information it was impossible to be exact, and suspicion would be immediate if your voice was off even slightly. Escape dossiers also included a set of contingency targets, so that the agents failure to succeed at their primary goal might yield something of use. 

The fourth, and final, item was his specific orders. He had known to get here, and had been instructed to open and then destroy these orders on arrival. The paper would seem to most to be blank, but with a little bit of magic the wording could be read. Zeta had sucked the guard nearly dry in their encounter, he would probably be out of it for a good week. You either got magic through love, or you stole it outright violently. Zeta chose the later. 

"Eta-Zeta, your target is the Prince himself. Execute him, and then light the lamp placed in the fourth floor east window. A second agent will perform a similar task, and with any luck Boraelia and Polis Major will find themselves at war. We'll be watching you, do not let us down.

-Eta-Eta."

Zeta grinned, this Prince wasn't exactly known to be kind to his subjects, he would be serving the hive while doing them a favor. The paper vanished with a green flame, and Zeta packed slung his back over his back, and the dagger he strapped to his leg. Taking a deep breath he was covered with a green glow, and then changed from a lowly peasant into a respected member of the palace guard, black armour with red trim covering him. A disguise like this, with armour covering, would quickly drain him- he would probably only get five or so hours before fatigue set in. The armour was, of course, no use against weapons either. It might not look like it, but that armour was his own skin. It might feel like metal, and sound like metal, but that was only an illusion. If you stabbed it, it would bleed.

Zeta was mindful of this as he continued down the path, the only way a changeling agent was expected to win a fight was to have the smarts to avoid one. Or, if that failed, to overwhelm the enemy with a screaming horde of changeling warriors. Their training focused on the martial arts, and in battle they would rapidly change identity to confuse their enemies. More often then not the enemy would rout out of sheer confusion. Life in the south was harsh, but the Hive had long since held it's own against the other nations. To the north was Equestria, and not the Hive nor the other states dare wake that sleeping beast. Not, of course, unless they were sure of victory.

Despite having been on the march for nearly a full day at this point, Zeta was full of adrenaline and anxious to prove his worth. He quickly cantered down the path towards the castle, soon coming up on the moat. The drawbridge was lowered, which would thankfully save him a little time. Another guard waved at him from his post on the other side.

"Welcome back Halberd, have a good time in Equestria?" The guard shouted across.

Zeta put on a smile, and trotted across. "That's right friend, three days, three nights, a hundred bits of gold," He shouted back.

The guard started laughing, Zeta panicked for a second- he hadn't expected that response. He could feel some sweat on his brow, but fought back the temptation to wipe it off.

"You're talkin' like a 'robot' from one of your comics, you been out in the sun too long?" The guard asked, squinting forward at Zeta. He coughed and rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly.

"Uh, yeah... it's been a long walk..." He trailed off awkwardly, glancing from side to side. 

The guard snorted. "Well then get some rest- you're on duty tomorrow, remember?" He said.

Zeta awkwardly shuffled past. "I uhh, yeah, rest. I'll uhh... yeah!" He mumbled, and quickly dashed inside the castle.

Once inside he sighed, relieved. Glancing back to make sure he was out of sight he wiped the sweat off his brow and continued on down the carpeted hall. Zeta had studied the blueprint of this place, and knew the Prince's quarters was on the third floor. He would be having dinner at this time in the evening, which was perfect. He could slip in... and wait.

Quickly finding the Prince's quarters, with no further ado, Zeta gently opened the door and stepped inside, closing it behind himself just as gently. Taking a look around Zeta suppressed a laugh, the amount of ornate decoration in the room was worth more than the castle grounds. A golden visage of the Prince himself jutted out from the equally golden bed frame, a dresser with gold trim stood at the end of the room, and worth more than any of this- a manticore rug occupied the floor. It was an ugly piece, but worth a million bits by itself easily. He also saw something on a table beside the bed, it looked like a small map. Zeta approached and had a quick look at it.

It was a war plan, and a hilariously direct one at that. A red line ran from Boraelia east to the Hive, and a note in the margin read "2,000 should do it, conscript the local population for front line units."

His entire plan was to take 2,000 soldiers north to the Hive, and attack directly. Zeta didn't even really need to kill this Prince, he seemed to be well on the road to that himself.  He put the map in his bag, might prove useful somehow. A noise outside the door startled him, and he quickly dove under the bed, thankful it was so high off the ground. He quietly lay under there, listening to footsteps approaching outside.

"... you're sure you can trust her? I th-"

"Be quiet you idiot, there's ears everywhere!"

The footsteps disappeared down the hallway, and Zeta sighed with relief. Rolling out from under the bed he spotted a wardrobe, and dropped his disguise so he could stuff himself inside.  

He unsheathed the dagger, and waited. 

In the time he waited Zeta simulated what he would do in his mind, over and over. Would he strike unseen, and escape silently? Perhaps a quick one liner, or maybe try and get some useful information first, could prove his worth back home. Better than all this, why not suck him dry of magic before leaving? Magic was useful, and it felt good to have your fill of it.

The sound of a lone quad of hooves came down the hallway, and the door opened, and he watched as the Prince entered the room, and moved to his dresser to, apparently, style his mane.

"Some kind of brother I have, I swear he just wants my position..." he said to himself, and reached down to pick up a brush.

"At least I have you, you always understand. Soon you'll be King, and maybe even..." He paused, and stared into his own eyes.

The mirror, he'll see me with the mirror! Get away from it you vain idiot!

Zeta had an idea, and with a tiny bit of magic energy disturbed the map on the desk, causing it to flutter to the ground. Prince Prickletree glanced over.

"I really have to get the servants to find out where the draft is coming from," He mumbled, and trotted over. As he bent down Zeta quietly opened the wardrobe and stepped out. His heart beat rapidly as adrenaline filled him, he was so close. The Prince grabbed the paper, and as he came up to put it on the table found a dagger across his neck.

"Don't scream," Zeta ordered.

"Alright, alright! Just... relax, alright? Maybe we can work out a deal?" He pleaded.

"What could you have that would interest the hive?" Zeta asked. 

Fear. Fear was almost as good as love in that it meant your victim was weak, you could suck the magic right out of them, and it would only enhance the effect. Zeta breathed in deep as it filled him. The feeling was akin to taking a warm bath, except the warmth was inside. 

"Gold? Servants? I...." He trailed off, shuddering with fear.

"Information, who are you working with?"

"Commander Luna! She wants the Hive gone, she said if I did it I could..." He never finished the thought.

Cut.

Zeta released him, letting his body flop to the floor. He dropped the dagger beside it and resumed his guard disguise. For a moment he stood there, looking down at his handiwork. Prince Prickletree was certainly not the most noble of ponies, or people in general for that matter, but did he really have to die? Zeta felt... cold. He pushed the lifeless body under the bed, and steeled himself with the knowledge that had this stallion lived, it would have led countless innocents to their deaths, and created a problem for the hive as well. He knew the risks. 

He knew the risks.

Zeta did too, and he quickly left the room behind him. It didn't take much time to find the window on the fourth floor. As expected there was a torch, which he lit. The window was wide enough to fly out, and since the sun was setting he figured it would be the best way to get out. Glancing back he...

Princess Luna?

"A charming tale, but it's time to wake up," She said.

Wildcard was startled awake and bumped the meeting table, the rest glancing at him.

"Good to have you back with the living, Ambassador. Long night?" Spitfire asked, apparently interrupted as she stood ahead of blackboard filled with names, numbers, and vague looking symbols. She held a pointing stick in one hoof, pointed at the Ambassador at the moment.

He cleared his throat, noting Luna grinning at him from across the table.

"Sorry, continue," he said. 

Spitifire frowned and resumed, gesturing with her stick at a circles series of names.

"We know the risks, but I think the prize is worth it. If the elements of the fleet here can draw them out, then the Pheonix craft can intercept and destroy a large portion of their staging grounds near Baltimare. Combined with a Legion assault we could take half the city in one fell swoop," She finished, and turned towards the others. Celestia never said much in these meetings, and sat back in her chair with her assistant First Class beside her. Wildcard caught a glance, and they shared a smile. 

"I approve, it would give my colts some needed morale, we haven't taken the offensive in a week," General Massé said. 

"I agree, it would be good to take the initiative for once, we've been too defensive since this started," Luna added.

They all turned to her sister, awaiting the final decision. While ostensibly they were all equal, nobody did anything Celestia didn't approve of. Or, at the very least, allow reluctantly.

"Approved, get it done," She said. 

Wildcard had no input, he was generally only involved in these meetings as a gesture of good will towards the Hive; rarely was he involved in the actual decisions. When he was it was generally to the tone of "have your people do this", and then he simply called home afterwards. Home, in turn, rarely sent him anything other then a 'yes' or 'no'. He spent most of his time managing petty squabbles between the ponies and immigrant changelings, almost always to do with pay. Everyone wanted their labour, nobody wanted to pay for it, and it was hard to explain to the workers what pay even was. Adding to that was the increasing difficulty of keeping track of all the changelings; they were required to register and report with the local guard, but with the war stretching the guard thin this task had been relegated to confused recruits of the new 'National Police Service'. It was like dealing with a bunch of children. Ponyville had nearly had a riot when word went around that changelings were working the orchards, having 'removed' a large amount of fruit bats in doing so. Princess Twilight Sparkle had solved that problem however. If Wildcard read the following report right, she had done it with a bit of musical theatre. A Princess without a realm, Twilight was an interesting character.

Princess Celestia sat forward, glancing around. "If there's no further business, I suggest we adjourn for today," She said. The group nodded and collected their assorted paper, Spitfire quickly erased her plans and was the first out. Wildcard got up, but a quick gesture from Luna bid him stay. General Massé took off after Spitfire, Celestia and First Class afterwards. First Class blew him a kiss as she left, causing Wildcard to melt into his chair with a sigh.

"You two seem quite taken with each other, I suspect your Queen would disapprove, you're quite different than your comrades." Luna said. 

Wildcard crossed his arms, mindful to tread the minefield that was talking with Princess of the Night carefully.

"How so?" he asked.

"You, unlike your comrades, have a heart,' She explained.

"I'm sure in time, the rest of my people will learn to embrace our alliance," Wildcard suggested.

"I'm not so sure. I quite suspect your Queen is only using this to further her own hunger for power, how exactly is what eludes me. Obviously she needs Equestria for protection during the war, but beyond that..."

Wildcard agreed, and he quite suspected that his position- and possibly his life- was only secure until the war was won. Beyond that there would be a reckoning, and he would need friends to protect himself.

And his family, he would have a family soon. Never in his life had the idea even occurred to him. 

"In any case, that brings me to why I've had you stay behind," Luna said, and flipped through the pile of papers before her to bottom, sliding a folder over. Wildcard leaned forward and flipped it open.

The first thing that stood out was 'attempted murder', he closed it without any further examination.

"So you've found a few skeletons in my closet, is anybody really surprised?" Wildcard asked.

"Surprised? Not at all, not myself. Others may be however, and when wars end certain documents become unclassified, matters of public record and historical fact. It would truly be a shame if your new life her started with certain uncomfortable revelations..."

Wildcard met her gaze. "You can't prove I had anything to do with any of this."

She smirked. "You can't prove you didn't, A good word from the Night Guard declaring your 'clear innocence' would certainly help allay the fears of... certain others."

"Why are you bringing this up? Why now?" Wildcard asked, deeply afraid what the answer might be.

Luna clacked her hooves together and slunk into her chair,  this had the effect of somewhat shrouding her face in darkness. Wildcard wasn't had by the effect.

"I require your services," She said.

"I'm an Ambassador now, Princess. I'll also remind you that I'm not a citizen- you have no sway over me." 

"Oh don't give me that 'I've retired' business. We're at war, and you've already made your abilities clear when you shot down a griffon attack ship. You keep a crossbow under your desk for the moons sake!"

Wildcard leaned forward, putting his hooves on the table. 

"Fine, you know what? Fine. You want Eta-Delta back I'll give him to you- but I want something in return."

"I'm listening," Luna said, unphased.

"I want a title for myself, and First Class. There's also a small plot of land in the desert, but we can discuss that later. If I do this for you, I want you to ensure our safety, publicly, forever." 

"You shall have it, I assume this has something to do with your child?" Luna asked.

Wildcard betrayed his emotions for barely a second, but it was enough for her to notice. She smiled and raised herself to meet him.

"I assure you, Equestria will allow no harm to come to her, or her child. In the past we had an 'adoption policy', but that idea is dead. I will not allow it to happen again," She said.

"Then I assume my own safety rides on me accepting this 'offer'."

"Correct, I will make you a noble and the nation will stand at your back. If Chrysalis wants to harm you, she'll have to deal with the whole of the nation- if you work with me," Luna said.

It was everything he needed, and in the end he would probably be helping the war effort. Maybe, in the end, it was the universes way of making him atone. 

"Deal." Wildcard said, reaching his arm forward.

Luna shook it. "Good, I'll have somepony speak to you shortly," She said, and released him. 

Wildcard flopped back in his chair while Luna quickly gathered her papers and departed.

She glanced back from the doorway.

"Just out of curiosity, how many?" she asked.

"Eight." Wildcard replied.

She whistled, and left down the hallway.

He slammed the table, fuming. "Just when I thought I was out, they pull me back in!" he shouted.

Luna strode down the hall, with a wide grin on her face having accomplished everything she had wanted. Wildcard would serve as an excellent tool if she needed some direct 'intervention'. 

She wondered if he realized the risk from his own people. If they found out he was doing this work, or just how loyal he had become to Equestria, then alliance or not they would replace him. The only reason they didn't, she assumed, is at the moment it would be more trouble than it was worth. It was somewhat ironic that she would have to ensure his well being, protecting a changeling from other changelings, how times had changed. 

Interestingly, it seems he had been kept in the dark as to the larger scale of his leaders plans from the start. When that prince was executed (Luna would have to note that case as solved), his brother inherited the throne and declared war on the neighbouring state. As soon as this was over, the Hive attacked with an overwhelming number of warriors and sacked them both. Polis Major had been razed to the ground, and none had dared cross the Hive since then. Thinking on it, it was perhaps a way to secure their position in the south before setting their eyes on the north- Equestria. 

Did Chrysalis have further plans?

Pondering away, Luna was startled to bump into her sister.

Luna looked up to find her sister frowning down at her.

"What was all that about?" She asked.

Luna stuck her chin into the air, responding in the proper tone of leadership. 

"I was securing a strategic asset," She replied.

"A 'strategic asset'? That's a living breathing person you're talking about, our friend." Celestia said sternly

"What I do to protect the nation is none of your business, sister," Luna said, her voice up an octave from before.

"You're slipping, Luna You may own the night, but don't let the darkness own you," Celestia warned.

"I assure you, sister, that I command the darkness, not it I," Luna said, looking up to meet her sisters glare.

"You're not listening. If you sacrifice what Equestria stands for then we've already lost," Celestia said, staring down at her sister.

"I'll do what I must to make sure there continued to be a nation!" Luna said, her voice up an octave.

They glared at each other, horn to horn. A very faint outline of magic energy swirled around both. 

Celestia blinked.

"We will discuss this at another time," She said, and turned away, quickly disappearing down the hallway.

Luna sighed, and peered down at the cracks the pair had left in the stone floor. Once again she had let her emotions take control of her, and once again she had almost come to blows with her own sister. This crisis was bringing out the worst in everypony. 

She had barely been back a year from her millennial exile, the event leading to that having been dubbed "Luna's Treason" by history. 

	It's not treason if you are the government!

Perhaps, now the elements were gone it would be possible to...

No, no don't go down this road. Not again.

She shook her head and strode the opposite way down the hallway. Rest, rest was what she needed. Celestia would mind the day.

Wildcard, having spent a good half hour milling around the castle finding breakfast and tea before reluctantly arrived at his office. The guard outside paid him no mind- Wildcard didn't even have any idea which of the pair it was. They operated in 12 hour shifts, and while ostensibly under his command he was careful not to let them have much leeway. When off their shift they reported to the guard, and were not to leave Canterlot. Like all the changelings they were required to wear a red medallion inscribed with their 'registration number' when not om duty. It had been quite a lot of work to register and manage the changelings, but thus far the only problems had been minor. 

Well, aside from the war, anyway.

"Morning Lyra," Wildcard said, striding to his desk. With a swift movement he opened the locked drawer while spinning to sit in his chair, dumping his notes from the meeting (which were actually just doodles) inside before closing it with his leg, which then came to rest with it's partner on top the desk.

"Mornin' Wildcard, got a message for you," Lyra said, and with nary a glance back flung a letter through the air, which landed delicately before Wildcard. She was so skilled at this by now that it even landed forward. Wildcard glanced down at it, taking a sip from his tea.

"Mezza Luna? I don't know any Mezza Luna..." Wildcard mumbled, tearing the letter open.

Inside was a paper with only tree words on it, Wildcard sighed and slumped in his chair. 

"Send Her Out." 

Careful not to show how deeply he was dissatisfied with the state of affairs, he quietly put the note in his locked drawer, and cleared his throat to get Lyra's attention.

"Take a break Lyra," He ordered.

She immediately stopped typing and got up, trotting to the door.

"Super secret stuff huh? I get it." She said, glancing back with a smile before leaving into the hallway. Wildcard could always count on the fact that Lyra could be trusted, and understood her position in things. 

Mere seconds after she left a bat pony walked in, and kicked the door shut behind her. She looked rather aged, and wore battered armour that had probably been with her for a generation.

"Mezza Luna, I presume?" Wildcard addressed, not moving from his comfortable position. 

"That is I, yes. I heard you had accepted Her Highness's... offer," She said, coming to a halt before his desk.

"If you can call it that, felt more like a demand, alongside some thinly veiled threats and the shocking revelation that I, a known changeling spy, have..." He paused, and looked at her flailing his hooves. "spied for the changelings!"

"Oh please, as if you're totally on the level even now. You're skimming hundreds of untaxed bits for your personal gain during a war, I should have you arrested for fraud," She threatened. Wildcard was beginning to sense a theme in the way the Night Guard did things.

"Oh fantastic, another 'revelation'. That's perfectly legal, and I'm not even a citizen! I pay taxes to the Hive, not to you. Good luck arresting the Ambassador on sovereign territory by the way." Wildcard noted. 

"Stuff it Wildcard, you know full well you're breaking the law..."

"Which law? How? Need I remind you I have diplomatic immunity? Oh! I forgot to mention the blanket amnesty!" Wildcard broke in.

Mezza Luna loudly cleared her throat, glaring at him

"You'll find your 'mission' outlined here, get it done and maybe we can slide a few bits your way," She said, producing a folder which she tossed on his desk.

"And if I refuse?" 

She simply responded with a laugh, and turned to leave.

"We'll meet again, Wildcard," She said, and left Wildcard with his folder. 

"I look forward to it!" He shouted after her, sarcastically.

He took a deep breath, and opened it. On top of a smaller, sealed, folder was his orders.

"Agent Orange (Fantastic, he had some sort of code name now!), your task is to identify and, if possible stop, possible griffon attempts to ally with the Independent State of Snowy Cove. Night Guard Intelligence has been unable to intervene due to the war, and formal diplomatic relations haven't existed for centuries. With your unique capabilities you can get in where others couldn't, and do what needs to be done. On arrival rendezvous with Agent Yellow in the Snowmare Tavern within the city of Snowy Cove, identify with the key phrase: Iron and Copper. Agent Yellow will provide any further instructions, and provide you with tools you may need.

-Agent White"

He shook his head, this was not sounding like a walk in the park. Snowy Cove was nearly a days travel away by air, and he would have to do it while being mindful of both other changelings and anyone else. He opened up the second folder, and covered his desk with tea on seeing what was inside.

It was a changeling contingency dossier. A small note was attached.

"Use only outside Equestrian Territory."

Fantastic! He was now holding the most dangerous object in the world, and that was their only advice. This explained why they had decided it would be him, and not anybody else, to do this. Why they wanted to keep this mission from the Hive was an interesting question, probably because Luna suspected Chrysalis of plotting against the alliance.

He didn't blame her really.

He swung out of his chair, grabbed his coat, and with a quick note to Lyra he was out the door. Best get this business done as soon as possible.

There was one other thing he grabbed, leaving tape dangling from the bottom of his desk. He hoped not to use it, but a lifetime of this sort of work had proven one thing: be prepared for anything. His first stop was the throne room, where Celestia was, as always, tending to the business of the state. First Class was at her side as always, but they didn't seem to be very busy. Relieved, Wildcard stood in the doorway and beckoned her over. With a quick glance to her Princess, who replied with a nod, she came over to him.

"What's up Wildcard?" She asked.

Wildcard took a moment to savour her presence. As beautiful as always, and with a now noticeable bump that marked their child. She smiled warmly at him, and he felt that sensation of warmth inside. An observer might even think he was glowing, literally.

"I've got to go away for a few days, on business. I just wanted to s-" 

She embraced him tightly, entangling the two in a kiss. When she released him she laughed, he was quite clearly glowing now.

"They should send us to the front, all I have to do is kiss you and we could take on the entire griffon army!" She joked.

"Wouldn't be fair to the griffons. Now I've really got to go, I just want to say goodbye, and I'll probably have to cancel our date Saturday," He said, frowning.

"Really? What sort of work could possibly take a whole week?" She asked, meeting his eyes with a concerned look.

Wildcard sighed

"Princess Luna has me doing some 'field work', I thought I was done with this crap but with the war on I'm apparently an asset, to be used as such." he explained.

"That's terrible of her! I could talk to Celestia, may-" 

Wildcard shook his head. "No, we've all got to do our part, and I suppose this is mine. She's promised us landed titles if I succeed."

"So that Queen of yours...?"

Wildcard nodded. "We'll be untouchable, and so will our foal," he explained.

First Class grabbed his shoulder. "Wait, why would you be worried about our foal?" She asked, clearly worried.

"I'm not, not anymore. The Hive has had an... 'adoption policy', in the past."

"Now that's terrible! We'll have to bring her to justice one day for these c..."

Wildcard glanced away, which she noticed in an instant and twisted his head over to meet her gaze.

"You never told me about your career, before all this." She said.

Wildcard took a deep breath, this was happening.

"I don't like to think about it, I'm not that person anymore." 

"Wildcard..." 

"I did what I was ordered to do! The Queen orders, and you obey, there's no questioning the morality- you just do it!" He struggled to glance away, desperate to not meet her gaze, but she held him firm. 

"Have you... killed?" she asked.

"Yes," He responded simply. A tear began to bead on her eye, he was held firm and unable to do anything but stare into them.

"Could you... do it again?" She asked.

Wildcard swallowed, "Yes," he replied painfully. It was the utter truth, he could and would kill to protect her.

First Class released him, and turned away.

"Go, go do what you need to do," She said, waving a hoof behind her. Wildcard sensed it was unwise to say anything more, and departed silently. The warm feeling inside was replaced with cold. A deep cold, the sort of cold that no physical heat could cure. 

He steeled himself for the days ahead, and took flight once outside the castle. In his jacket he had everything he needed, and a small chunk of gold he could barter with if he needed. The cider deal had been amazingly fruitful, and his investment equally so. At this point it was looking like once the war was over he would be a very rich stallion indeed. With a title, and a little land, he could start a noble house.

That is, assuming they won the war. 

It was early morning in Canterlot when he began his journey south. If he flew non-stop it would take him somewhere around a day to get there, but he was exhausted from the latter night- which he had spent desperately trying to explain to a frantic citizen of Baltimare that no, her husband was not replaced by a changeling- he was just cheating. For whatever reason the refugees always took their grievances to him, despite living in the Hive at the moment with the actual Queen of the Changelings right there. Perhaps she intimidated them. 

Again, he couldn't really blame them. 

The next few hours flying low over the San Palomino Desert- careful to steer clear of any inhabited areas- he daydreamed about what the future might hold. If they won the war, and Luna fulfilled her promise, then they would live a peaceful life in Equestria, himself and his wife. He had put off proposing to her because of how busy they had been with the war, but perhaps it was unwise to wait. It was quite possible that they would lose, they were after all two weeks in and hadn't even taken Baltimare back. Wedding First Class would send the clear message home that he had truly 'gone native', but Chrysalis would be an utter fool to try anything now. The Hive needed the protection of the Wonderbolt fleet far more than Equestria needed the Hive. Without the fleet the griffins would annihilate the entire hive almost immediately. His new title would also ensure that Equestria would be unable to dodge aiding them, they would very publicly have the full protection of the state.

There was, as always, the idea of Chrysalis somehow allying with the griffons, but then that same fleet would take the place of the griffons, and she would essentially commit suicide by going against Equestria. The Magnificent itself was, after all, designed specifically for this. A fact that he had ensured remained hidden from his 'comrades'. 

With the sun beginning to go down, fatigue set in long before the desert itself neared its end. Thankful for his herbivorous nature Wildcard spotted an outcropping of grass and set down, he could take his fill here and then rest through the night. Ponies of ancient times had to worry about carnivores, but other than magical beasts those had been purged from the continent long ago. The grass was dry, and somewhat stale, but a small muddy puddle of water that sustained it also solved his thirst. It didn't taste good, but his survival training said it was good enough to keep him alive, and that's what counted.

Using some more of the grass to make a small bed for himself, he lay down and stared at the stars before falling asleep, alone in the desert. The stars were beautiful tonight, and not a cloud in the sky obscured them. 

Wildcard returned to the beach in his mind. He had long ago developed the ability for lucid dreaming, and this was where he came when he needed to collect himself. It was a place of peace in his mind, and represented the place in the badlands where he and First Class had first admitted their love for each other. Perhaps one day, when peace returned, he could build a ranch there. A perpetually evening sun reflected off the gently rippling waters of the lake, and he lay with his hooves at the waters edge, gently massaged by the waves.

"Wildcard"

He was surprised to hear a voice behind him, and rolled on his side to see Luna standing there. 

"This better not be business, my mind is private property," He warned, he had the ability to remove her if he wished.

"Not business, not entirely I just had a question or two that I wanted to ask away from prying ears."

"That's business!" Wildcard growled, turning back to the waters.

"Yes, I suppose you are right. I shall make my intrusion quick," Luna said, and sat beside him.

"It's quite a nice place," She commented.

"Just get on with it," Wildcard demanded.

"Fine. I need to know if you have any evidence of your Queen acting against the alliance," She said.

"Evidence? No. Suspicions? Oh I got suspicions. Zeta's escape for one, how they let him go is beyond me- it should have been impossible."

"I see, would it be possible for you to gather evid-" 

She never finished the thought, Wildcard tossed her far into the waters ahead and she vanished below them with a huge splash.

"My dream." He mumbled to himself.

Wildcard awoke, feeling something poking at his backside. With the reflexes of a trained soldier he had his crossbow out of his bag in a flash, standing with it leveled against...

"It's a rabbit Wildcard, get a hold of yourself," He breathed, putting his crossbow back in his pack. The low morning sun heralded the day, and after a quick breakfast of more stale grass, he continued off south. In the far distance was the Crow Pass, and beyond that lay the independent states. Snowy Cove, thankfully, was the furthest north and lay just west of the other end of the Crow Pass. In his flight he took out the dossier he had been provided and began to memorize it.

Treebeard. Occupation: Forester. Stallion, Earth.
Height: 5' 5''
Cutie Mark: Tree, see photograph.
Mane Colour: [UNTRANSLATABLE] (Basically green)
Coat Colour: [UNTRANSLATABLE] (Brownish)
Voice Signature: [UNTRANSLATABLE] (Boy, this guy wasn't much of a stallion)
Residence: Small cabin north of the city of Snowy Cove.
Living Family: None
Known friends: None, basically a forest hermit.
Chance of contact: Nearly zero, rarely leaves the forest. 
Available Resources: Small bank account, may or may not be empty at any given time. Known to have a small supply of gold in his cabin.
Additional Notes: Favourite colour is green, birth date is March 22nd 952. Spends his spare time knitting. Probably born in Snowy Cove, but lack of family or medical record keeping in the city has made this difficult to confirm. Do not get too friendly with the populace, they will suspect something is amiss if the local hermit starts getting too friendly. 

Below these was a handwritten note scrawled in.

"Original has vanished, Cabin remains unoccupied with a small amount of supplies inside for any agent on mission out here. Be wary of an ever increasing tab at the local tavern. The next agent to use this identity is recommended to pay it, immediately, or risk a confrontation. Also advised you bring a coat."

Well, there went his gold.

Spotting a flock of geese above Wildcard put another bit of his training into use. Birds were smart, and if you fell in line with the flock, kept careful track of their patterns, and were willing to ride in the front for a bit first, they would allow you to ride in their wake. It was a tried and true method for getting across the continent. This conferred the double benefit of being able to disguise as a goose. Never before approaching the flock, or they would see you as a threat and... bite.

Wildcard gingerly, slowly, raised himself in front of the lead goose. He could almost hear it sigh as it was swept up in his own wake, and for an hour or two he led them in the morning sun. They were heading south a little early this year, but perhaps that's because the war had spoiled their grounds in the north. Having been accepted, Wildcard shapeshifted into a (significantly larger) goose. It was an odd feeling, but also somewhat relaxing. These geese had no conception of politics, war, or even morality. All they did was fly, eat, procreate, and move on to the next world. Eventually another member of the flock moved up to the tip of the V, and Wilcard was able to slip back into the second position. He sighed with relief as the burden of flight became almost non-existent.  

As the sun reached midpoint in the sky, the flock entered the Crow Pass. This was the only entrance to the independent states this side of the continent, and it was a large of part of why they were so. The long desert to the north prevented any sort of major connection between the north and the south, and as soon as one was planned one of the states would claim the pass for itself. Dozens of wars had been fought over it, all ending in the abandonment of those plans. Flanking the pass was the huge mountain range of the Palisade Mountains on either side. The mountains were huge enough that it was almost impossible to fly over them- the air simply got too thin. Thus the pass was the only way to enter on the continent proper, the other solution being to go around to the oceans. This was the hive's entry point- along the east coast. 

Wildcard spared a glance down at the changing scenery. Almost immediately the desert disappeared and was replaced by thick deciduous forest. This forest had given Borealia it's name, but that was one of the many short lived nations that was lost to history. Nothing lasted longer then it's leadership down here, and it was a never ending cycle of a great person uniting the states, and then the splintering that followed their passing. The only one to remain the same through time was the Hive, owing in part to it's isolated location in a far western valley, but mostly due to the ferocity of it's warriors and constant 'threat management' of it's agents. The war had complicated that, with most agents being recalled to lead warriors in direct combat. 

Coming out of the pass, Wildcard departed from the flock with (what he thought) was a respectful honk. The reply of the others faded away as he flew eastwards from here, noting that it was starting to get colder. Thankfully he was wearing a coat, and while it was thin it would do well enough.Barely visible in the distance was the end of the mountain range, and along with it the western coast. Snowy Cove lay there, and was named for the snow that covered the mountains near it- The city itself was rarely snowed in. Cross ocean trade with the Zebra Empire made it of moderate importance to the region, the griffons setting their sights this far east did not bode well.

It wasn't long before the coast, and the cove, were visible on the horizon. Wildcard veered north and flew low over the trees, looking for any sign of this cabin. It could be a valuable tool if he was the only that knew about it, any further missions in the south could be based out of there. Assuming, of course, it still existed. This dossier was clearly dated, and lacked the deep details most did. Snowy Cove was so far east that the Hive didn't care about it much, other then to monitor inter continental trade. It was a dull mission, but every agent did it. Wildcard had done it for an entire year before his first mission. 

Eventually Wildcard spotted a trail below, and followed it up the mountain. The air got colder and a thin covering of snow began to cover the ground and evergreen trees. Finally he found it: an ancient looking cabin covered with snow behind a worn down fence. He came down gently, blowing some of the snow around. His hooves sunk into the snow, and his movement towards the cabin would better be described as 'swimming'. Crunching his way towards the door he was happy to find it unlocked, and it swung open with a muffled creak. Stepping inside he shook himself off, and lit his horn to provide light and warmth.

It was a rather bare cabin, with a basic kitchen at one end, and a cot on the other. In the middle was a wood burning stove. Wildcard decided to check out the kitchen first, and found it incredibly dusty. A small note had been left by the previous occupant.

"Enjoy, I tried to leave the place clean enough. I know cove watch is pretty boring, but there's a mare at the tavern that can help... pass the time."

Wildcard crumbled it up and tossed it in a nearby bin. Outside the grimy window he could see the pinkish light of evening. A howl of hunger from his stomach set him to his first task- find some food. 

Taking some time to stow his dossier under the mattress, he looked under the bed and found a small lockbox. He didn't have the key, but lock picking one of many skills he had been trained it. With only a momentary flash from his alicorn the tumbler clicked into position, and he opened it. Inside was a second note, a small nugget of gold, and a sheathed dagger.

"Replace if used, other agents need to use the place too."

He pocketed the gold, strapped the dagger to his leg, and departed from the cabin. Outside he immediately assumed his disguise, and left his coat visible on top. Crunching through the snow he leapt over the gate, not bothering to clear the snow to open it, and trotted down the path towards the city. For a second he thought of taking to the sky, but he had gotten a 'grounder', an earth pony, and that would break his cover wide open.

By the time he arrived at the city, having started to eye the berries growing near the end hungrily. He knew for a fact that these would put him in a.. strange state of mind, but it wasn't time for that. Many an hour of his youth had been spent staring out at the ocean with a few of these berries, drifting in and out of reality. 

He felt something else, other then his hunger. For the first time in his life he actually felt lonely. He had been on lone assignment plenty of times before, but he always had his duties pushing him forward. Now he had something more, he had friends and even found a love back home. Equestria truly was his home now, and that he was out here doing this proved his loyalties well enough. Perhaps that was part of why Luna had him doing this, he was about to wed a rather important pony after all.

The sound of a sword being unsheathed startled him to attention, a guard stood ahead of him on the path, the city gate behind him and his sword levelled at Wildcard.

"State your business," He demanded.

"Need to buy some supplies," Wildcard responded quickly. 

The guard squinted at him, looking him over.

"Oh! Treebeard! Why didn't you just say so!" He exclaimed, sheathing his sword.

"Go right on in, but be careful- with the war up north we can't be too vigilant," he said, and stepped aside.

"I'll keep it in mind," Wildcard said, passing him into the city. 

Snowy Cove wasn't a very large city, but it was large enough that it had become the seat of power in the region. It's ruler was known as the Patriarch, and it was a title passed from stallion to colt. Interestingly the colt didn't have to be a son, only chosen by the current leader. The city had never tried to grab land or tussle with it's neighbours, happy enough to get fat off overseas trade. Cobblestone roads ran through wooden buildings surrounded by a thick wooden wall, and near the waterfront a line of taverns looked over the ocean- entertaining sailors was big business. 

Wildcard strode through the evening crowds, he supposed a stop at the Snowmare would sate his appetite while also leading him to the deep cover agent. He quickly found the place, and opened it to find a surprisingly clean and well lit establishment, a few zebra sailors enjoying themselves at scattered tables.

Taking a seat at the bar, he tapped it to get the barkeeps attention.

"Ah, Haven't seen you here in years Treebeard, I imagine you'll be having the usual?"

Wildcard threw the die of fate. "Sure." 

"A mug of cider and a skinned pineapple, coming your way," The barkeep said, and with a swift motion filled a mug before darting into, and out of, the backroom. In mere moments his dance was complete, with the food and drink on the counter.

"What do you even do out there?" He asked.

Wildcard glanced around the room. "Prospecting, looking for gold but I mostly find..." In the corner he spotted a pony sitting in the shadows, reading something.

"Iron and Copper," he replied. The mysterious pony looked up and caught his gaze. With a quick nod he left a few bits on the table and left out a side door. 

"Well that's great," The barkeep said, tapping him on the shoulder. When Wildcard turned back he found a gun in his face.

"That means you can pay your tab, now." he demanded.

The room silenced itself, Wildcard had been in this situation before. With a swift motion he tossed the gold nugget at the stallion, who stumbled to catch it. In his moment of distraction Wildcard reached forward, and with a deft motion turned the tables.

The barkeep caught the nugget, and seemed to not notice that his own weapon was staring him in the face.

"Keep it," he said, staring at the chunk of gold. "This will pay your tab, and then some. I could buy myself a ship and get off this continent, leave the rest of you to your fates."

Wildcard carefully emptied the five small rounds out of the guns magazine, pocketing them while putting the gun in his bag. Such a weapon was seldom seen up north, but around here they were a fact of life.

"You really think Equestria is going to lose?" He asked, starting to hungrily devour the pineapple. 

"Oh no- they'll win, Celestia herself could probably kill the entire griffon population if she wanted to, but what are they going to do when they have won?" He asked in turn.

"Enjoy peace?" Wildcard suggested.

He laughed. "Turn their armies south, invade us while going on about 'harmony', happened to the Changelings you know- they got annexed."

Well that was a new perspective.

"I thought they were just allies, but I've been in the mountains for so long this all might as well be a faerie tale."

"They got invaded, and now suddenly they're 'allies' with the Equestrians, and fighting side by side in the war? They're a province now, and Celestia probably did something to their Queen to make her loyal. Celestia is trouble, mark my words. Nobody is that perfect," he explained.

Spotting something to the side he left Wildcard to finish his meal in peace. If the barkeep was representative of the general populations outlook towards Equestria then the alliance had far deeper problems down here then he thought. If the griffons managed to unite the populace in fear of an Equestrian invasion they could open a second front in the south of the Hive, it would be an incredible disaster. 

He now understood why Luna had sent him under such secrecy. If Chrysalis learnt of this she could very well switch sides, the combined weight of the griffons, changelings, and independent states would utterly overwhelm Equestria. Wildcard would have to keep his wits about him if this was to be avoided, more then his own life rested on ensuring Equestria emerged victorious. 

Finishing his meal he departed quickly, knowing that it wouldn't be for the last time. In the street there was no sign of 'Agent Yellow', he shrugged and left the city as the evening turned to night after buying a few apples from a street merchant. A gentle rain fell in the city, which turned to snow as he made his way back up the mountain. Taking a moment to collect a few of the berries along the way, he arrived to note a set of fresh footprints.

Pausing for a moment he loaded the gun, and he held it in his hoof as he crept through the snow, mindful to step only where the other had, negating the loud crunch of the snow. Closing on the door he stopped, and aimed the gun at it.

"Show yourself!" Wildcard shouted. 

After a moments pause the door slowly creaked open, he cocked the hammer and steadied himself.

"It's just me, Agent Yellow!" A gruff voice shouted through the open door. 

"Prove it!" Wildcard returned.

Agent Yellow poked his head out, mindful of the gun pointed at it. Wildcard studied him for a moment and recognized him from the bar.

"See? You've gotten paranoid over the years Treebeard, I didn't even know you were a spy," He said, and ducked back inside.

Wildcard sighed and slipped the gun back in his pack, leaving only one round off-chambered. This was going to take some explaining.

He closed the door behind and shook himself off, thankfully his comrade had started the fire, and it was quite cozy inside. Agent Yellow looked quite old now that Wildcard got a good look at him, he probably fulfilled a similar role to what he had years ago.

"So where have you been all these years, Treebeard? Certainly wasn't here," He said, sitting beside the fire.

Wildcard sat opposite him and warmed his hooves by it. "You've heard about the alliance right?" he asked, the floorboards creaked as they expanded, warmed by the crackling fire.

"Oh yes, I was quite shocked- but I suppose it's better to have them on our side then the griffons. All we need now is griffon allies opening a second front. I'm glad Her Highness takes the situation down here as seriously as me," he said.

"All right well, first things first," Wildcard said, and dropped his disguise.

Wildcard was shocked to note the agent was entirely unphased.

"Well that does explain how you came back from the dead, I saw him drown years ago," He said.

"Really?" Wildcard asked.

"Yes, I was probably his only friend- name's Greymane by the way- and I saw him lost to the sea on a fishing trip a few years back," he said, and this was followed by a wave of his hoof. Wildcard heard a click behind him and turned to see a second stallion removing a gun from the back of his head.

"Can never be too careful, I hear you've got a changeling traitor running a muck," he said, as the other stallion departed out the door. Wildcard hoped desperately that whoever it was could be trusted.

"It's true, which is quite a shock for us really, nobody has ever disobeyed the Queen like that before." Wildcard noted.

"You can call me Wildcard by the way, Who's your friend?" Wildcard asked.

"Town guard, told me you were in town so I followed you ever since you walked in here. This is my turf, I've got eyes everywhere," he said. Wildcard was decidedly impressed

"If you're so capable, what do you need me for?" Wildcard asked.

"Well, here's the situation. Griffons sent an ambassador her a few weeks ago, and he's been having long conversations with the Patriarch. Rumor around town is that they're going to sign an alliance soon enough, and if Snowy Cove throws it's weight around it's quite probable the other states could follow suit. His son, however, absolutely hates the griffons..."

"So kill the Patriarch, easy enough. I still don't see why you need backup." Wildcard commented.

"I'm a known factor out here, if I do anything they'll know it was me almost immediately, and all I would do is further inflame things while getting my own head lopped off. No, I have a better plan- kill the ambassador," He suggested.

Wildcard never thought he would here those words directed at himself. 

"Kill the ambassador, and it looks like his son did it. His father is seriously unlikely to give him up, so the griffons are likely to declare war on Snowy Cove themselves, diverting resources from the northern front. I like it, but I still don't see why you need me," Wildcard said.

"I'm a known factor, like I said. Adding to that you have the ability to really make it look like his son did it, I've spent the last few weeks making one of those 'dossiers' you use so much. It's probably not perfect, but all you have to do is get in and get out," He said, sliding a folder around the fire. 

Wildcard opened it, finding hastily scrawled and scatterbrained notes on a few pages of loose leaf. Still, it would probably be enough if he could just get a good look at this son. 

"Sounds reasonable enough, anything else?" Wildcard asked.

Greymane stood and brushed himself off. "Can't think of anything, just make sure to get out of here quick when the job is done, they'll be checking for changelings," he warned, and opened the door to leave. 

"Good luck, Agent Orange," he said, and closed it behind him as he let.

Wildcard sighed, and tapped the folder with his hoof. This was all too familiar. Once again he had to put out a brush fire before it turned into an inferno, the only thing had changed was who he was doing it for.  He took off his coat and bags, leaving them on the floor, and dropped himself into the cot.

The irony of having to kill an ambassador was not lost on him as he settled in to sleep. He would need all his wits about him, and his senses sharp, tomorrow. He pulled the thick sheet over himself and smothered the fire with a magical field, quickly falling asleep in the pitch darkness of an overcast night.

Once again, the beach; The everlasting twilight soothing his soul. the water calmly lapping against his hooves. Rolling over on his back he looked back, and a building began to take form. The outside walls made of hive-stone, contrasted with wood outlining the roof. A small overhang over the door, with a chair below so one could gaze on the lake. Windows here and there opened up that way too. It really was perfect. 

A son, or a daughter? 

When Wildcard awoke the morning sun streamed through the grimy windows of the cabin, the dance of dust in the air highlighted in it's rays. Before he got dressed he realized he hadn't taken a shower in days- and the cabin didn't have one. Still, there were other ways a quadruped could clean himself. He sparked up the fire and leapt on the door into the snow, rolling around in it until he was good and wet (and quite cold), then he came inside and shook himself off. Taking some time to dry his fur by the fire he felt this was good enough, and in any case a 'rugged mountain man' like the late Treebeard was unlikely to be too clean anyway. Eating a few apples, and tossing a few more in his pack for later, he left the cabin. 

On his walk towards the town he read over that 'dossier' Greymane had provided. It was sorely lacking in critical details like coat colour, mane colour, voice signature, etc, but it did have some useful information. The Patriarch's son was a unicorn, named Typhoon, with a cutie mark of said oceanic storm. His mother had passed giving birth, further evidence of how backwards it was in the south.  He had excelled in his studies, having been taught by the Zebras,  and would one day probably prove to be a capable head of state. His only friends were his teachers and a few in the guard, apparently he didn't see much in his peers. The rest of the information detailed a few trivial, but important, aspects. Typhoon walked with a slight limp in his rear right leg he had gained in an accident, and he always held his head high when he walked. A blurry photograph bookended the report. Wildcard would have to see, and hear, the colt in person before he could properly disguise. A further note added that there was a small cave that exited to a beach, the servants used it to come and go. A hasty map of the estate of the Patriarch was also attached, but it was full of holes. 

Wildcard passed into the town, exchanging a nod with the gatekeeper. He couldn't help but feel the thrill of conspiracy, today he would change the fate of an entire nation with one deft stroke. He grinned and strode through the street, the surrounding mass of ponies totally unaware of his presence. A good spy was a super-weapon, and Wildcard had proven to be a very good spy. 

The Patriarch lived in a gated compound overlooking the cove, it had it's own dock with a large yacht docked. Wildcard paused some distance away and started to consider his entrance strategy. Looking around he saw a few workers milling around the yacht, and here and there a guard watched out intently. He could tell from their hardened stances that these guards weren't to be trifled with. Greymane's suggestion of the servants entrance was probably the best strategy, so Wildcard trotted down to the sandy beach, finding a worn path leading around the estate. Around the back Wildcard spotted an earth pony, sitting on a barrel and smoking something. 

Wildcard coughed, and the startled stallion tossed his smoke out to sea.

"Hey man, you scared me!" He exclaimed.

"Wait a second, you aren't one of the se-" Wildcard silenced his protests by tossing a ten bit coin at him.

"Alright, cool. You want in? By my guest," He said, gesturing towards the cave to his side.

Wildcard approached him, looking him over intently. Brown coat, brown mane, brown everything. His cutie mark was a chain-mail glove. 

"What's your name?" Wildcard demanded.

"Squire, my name's Squire man, and you're creeping me out," He said, leaning backwards as Wildcard hovered over him.

Wildcard towered over him, refilling his magic reserves through his fear. Grabbing the pony by the shoulders he stared into his eyes, taking a deep breath as he took it all in. 

"Take the day off," He ordered. The pony scrambled away, and galloped down the beach.

As soon as he was gone, Wildcard assumed his form. He still wore his coat and bags, but figured nobody would really care about that. He was now just a lowly servant, and had his way in. Checking himself, sure to double check he had the proper cutie mark, he started down the damp, dimly lit, cave. At the end was an ancient wooden door, and as soon as he opened it a voice screeched at him like a harpy inside, setting his hair on end.

"Squire! Typhoon's been calling for you for half an hour, says he wants his new armor fitted!" An ancient fossil of a mare shouted at him from behind a counter, an assortment of pies lay on it while she kneaded dough.	

"And take this with you, poor colt hasn't eaten anything all day!" She ordered, prodding a plate with a sandwich on it.

Wildcard grabbed it and made a hasty retreat into the hallway, He put on a fake air of confidence as he walked down with it, plate balanced in one hoof. Glancing around to ensure nobody saw him, he lifted the bread and crushed one of the berries amongst the flowers. Wandering along the halls he found that all the rooms inside the estate seemed to be the same, there was no obvious sign of which the son was in. The mares reference to armour probably meant he was in the armoury or something, but where that was the map had no idea, it only marked the general outline of the estate itself. Eventually he came across a distracted looking servant hauling a pack on his shoulders. 

"Hey buddy, you seen Typhoon?" Wildcard asked.

"He's in the armoury, man get a grip he's always in the armoury," The other servant said, pushing past.

"And that's uhhh..." 

"In the basement, you're gonna get fired if you keep this up, " she warned.

Wildcard took the advice to heart and went back around to where he remembered finding a set of stairs leading downwards. Below he found a cool wine cellar with a pair of huge iron doors at the end. That, he assumed, was the armoury. It was unlocked, so he opened the door and went right in.

A zebra was inside, leveling a rather large weapon towards the doorway. The young Typhoon stood next to him.

"State your purpose here." The zebra demanded.

Wildcard glanced to his side, and with a swift motion placed the tray down, and a hoof in his bag.

"I don't know what you mean, I'm just a-"

Click

"Try again," He said, tapping the weapon.

"Fine," Wildcard said, kicking the door closed. "I'm here to kill the ambassador."

The zebra, to his mild surprise, lowered his gun. Wildcard in turn released his hoof from the bag, thankful this hadn't come to violence.

"Good, that's well within our interests," 

"Well that's good to know, I didn't even know you had interests in the region- and how did you even know?"

The colt laughed. "Do you think I'm that dumb? All servants have to check in with a password- the person you passed in the hallway was one of mine, and he's standing outside right now waiting for my signal. Leave, and die," he explained.

"My youthful friend here speaks the truth, and as for our interests- trade. We make millions off trade with the independent states, and we have a proposition for you," he said, gesturing Wildcard over.

"Oh and drop the disguise, you aren't fooling anyone in here," the zebra added.

Wildcard sighed, and joined them around a small table at the back of the room. For an armoury he noticed this room was rather bare of weapons, instead it was mostly maps and stacks of scrolls. 

"My name is Vizitane, and I represent Zebra interests in the region," The zebra said from across the table.

"I assume the griffons are harming these interests?" Wildcard asked.

"It's simple really. The patriarch has recently started raising an army to fight with them. He's paid for this by raising taxes- on our trade. Not only that, but griffon control of the continent would be.. dangerous," he explained.

"So, what's your plan here?" Wildcard asked.

"Do as you said, and kill the ambassador. Once you've done that- kill the patriarch too. We have elements ready to ensure a quick transfer of power- to his charming son here."

Wildcard was horrified, this was becoming far more than he had bargained for. He turned to the colt, whom was watching this intently.

"You want me to kill his own father?!" Wildcard exclaimed.

"He's no father of mine. That fossil of a stallion is too obsessed with his own power to even know I exist. He's even delegated most of the actual ruling to me, only caring about his absurd notions of conquest," He said, there was a deep anger in his words.

"Even so, do I really need to kill him?" Wildcard asked.

The zebra nodded. "If you don't he'll just hand his son over, he's grown up with us all his life- I don't think he even knows the colt's name," he said.

Wildcard turned again to Typhoon, who also nodded.

"He's no saint, Eta." He said.

Eta, the name of a changeling agent. It had been a long time since someone had called him that.

"Fine, I suppose if I refuse..."

"You'll be a gift to the griffons." The zebra said.

"What about Griffon retribution? They're going to be angered greatly by this- might even decide to send troops down here,"

The zebra laughed. "The war really does have your agents stretched, doesn't it? They already have, most of the independent states have secretly signed treaties. Those that haven't... will be in for a shock."

"So is the Zebra Empire willing to get involved militarily?" Wildcard asked.

"Yes, we just need a c-."

"Hold on, this changeling has a cutie mark!" Typhoon exclaimed, Wildcard flinched when he prodded his flank.

"Yes I know, he's the changeling Ambassador to Equestria- didn't you notice his interest in foreign affairs?"

Typhoon nodded. "I did, I didn't know what to make of it."

"Mind this colt, everything has a meaning. He wants to know if we can be roped into an alliance with the Equestrians, and open up a second front," The zebra said, and turned to Wildcard.

"The answer to that, is yes. Equestria falling would be a terrific loss not only to trade- but the Emperor has long since owed your..." he leaned back and scratched his head, "Has Celestia started calling herself Queen yet, or does she still insist on calling herself a 'princess'?" He asked.

"Princess." Wildcard replied.

The zebra laughed, and glanced over at Typhoon. "Note this too, she's afraid others will think her power hungry if she finally takes the reigns for herself. The lesson is she shouldn't care," He said, and turned back to Wildcard.

"When you return, you can inform the 'princess' that we will be coming, in force, as soon as the Griffons give us a plausible casus belli."

"Which will be them attacking Snowy Cove in retribution for the unfortunate killing of their ambassador," 

"Exactly, after making it look like he- for whatever reason- killed the patriarch, he will be found dead in his room. My friend here will take the credit, and open the gates for our fleet. When the Griffons come they will find thirty thousand zebras ready to meet them."

Thirty Thousand. That was nearly half the size of the current army Equestria had fielded. This would be a huge boon to the war effort.

"This is all good news, but why not get involved sooner?" Wildcard asked.

The Zebra frowned. "An unfortunate law prevents us from attacking without being attacked first," He replied, and once again turned to the colt.

"Note that too, never pass a law you can't repeal."

He nodded, and they both turned to Wildcard.

"So we got a deal?"

Wildcard nodded, and with a handshake the fate of two people was sealed. 

The son left first, followed closely by his zebra mentor. Wildcard waited a moment and resumed his servant disguise before leaving, taking a look at the map on the table- the Zebra had handily marked out the patriarchs quarters as well as the griffon ambassadors. He headed out that way.

Not long later, noticing that the same servant he had passed earlier passed him a few more times, he arrived outside the ambassadors office. Taking a deep breath, checking his arms, he cracked open the door and slipped inside. The ambassador sat at his desk at the far end of the room, it was pointed outwards towards a window- unwise. Wildcard unsheathed his dagger and crept up with the silence of a trained professional. 

He reached over, and put the dagger to his neck. To his surprise, the aged griffon sighed.

"So it's time to face the music, eh?" He said, un-moved, dropping his quill.

Wildcard remained silent, and held the griffon in a green field to ensure he couldn't move.

"You knew the risks," he said.

"Who are you trying to convince?" The ambassador asked.

Wildcard remained silent.

"We've all got to face our demons some day, and I'm ready to face mine," he said, and was taken with a fit of coughing.

"Are you?" he asked. 

He never got an answer, and Wildcard departed shortly with his form.

The Patriarchs quarters wasn't far from the ambassadors office, and as soon as he approached the guard at the door nodded and left. Wildcard wondered how long this conspiracy had been brewing. Deciding for the theatrical he kicked the door open with his gun drawn, a servant was serving lunch, and ran out screaming on seeing him.

"Patriarch!" Wildcard shouted with the Ambassadors voice.

He threw over the table, leaping forward while drawing a sword. Wildcard noticed that he was heavily armoured, and suddenly regretted his entrance. 

"Ambassador? What is the meaning of this?" He shouted.

"The alliance is off!" Wildcard shouted. 

The Patriarch desperately lunged forward, but never made it to the end of the room. Wildcard threw the smoking gun beside him, and resumed the servants disguise. It was horribly off- all the changing had confused his shape-shifting abilities, but he was still able to weave his way through the chaos in the halls and out the servants exit. Galloping out to the beach a trumpet blared, and from a ways off he could hear a shout.

"The Patriarch is dead! Long live the Patriarch!"

Wildcard had quite enough of Snowy Cove, and abandoned his disguise to take wing and leave- quickly. He soared up to the sky and flew east, his mission finally accomplished.

With incredible speed he came on the Crow Pass near evening, fatigue began to catch up to him as he entered it. He was able to coax his wings to get him as far as the desert, but his wings gave out, and he fell out of the sky into a field of short grass. It was a nice enough field, so he decided to rest there. He also found, to his delight, a few close-by apple trees. he ate some of the fruit, and pocketed ten more. Taking water from a small pond he settled down to a restless sleep under one of the trees.

When he awoke he found himself cold and wet, shivering in the late night. Groggy, tired, and sore, he nonetheless managed to coax his tired wings to lift him into the sky, and continued his way north. To his misfortune the rain seemed to follow him, but this had the effect of providing wind at his back that propelled him forward. With the mornings sun he was able to find a landmark he remembered, and set down nearby.

It was the lake. It stood out from the short grasses of the badlands plains, while the railway was also visible a few hundred meters away. Wildcard gazed on it, and then trotted up to the ground nearby. He dug ten small holes, and then moved back to the first. In each he carefully deposited the seeds from an apple, and covered them up with the muddy dirt. After taking a moment to admire his work, he departed and continued his way to Canterlot. 

When he arrived a few hours later he was cold, wet, muddy, and exhausted. Shaking himself dry in the castle foyer he strode through the halls to his office, a few guards glancing at him as he passed. When he walked in Lyra was working as always, and his guard stood ever attentive. Tossing his bags down on the floor he plopped himself in his desk.

Lyra spun over and smiled at him, holding his head in a green field of magic. 

"You look like crap," She said.

Wildcard sighed, unicorn magic was unlike anything else.

"I'm sure I do, and thanks for the help," He said.

"Don't mention it, Wildcard," She said, releasing the field. 

"By the way, you'll be shocked to find out nothing happened while you were 'out', except this bat pony keeps coming by asking me if you're back yet," she added.

Wildcard leaned back in his chair, he would have some explaining to do, but he had accomplished his mission objectives- in his own way.

"I'm sure she won't be long," he breathed, reaching in one of the drawers for a bottle of cider.

To his mild surprise the next person to enter the room was Luna herself, if she had come to see him in person this late in the day she must really be interested in his mission. 

"Ambassador, I've been awaiting your return most eagerly," She said, and nodded to Lyra. She quickly departed and closed the door behind her.

"I did as asked- the Griffons won't be allying with Snowy Cove any time soon," Wildcard said, leaning forward on the desk.

"Good, good- but there's more I'm sure," Luna said, sitting across from him.

"The bad news is the griffons are going to open a new front in the south- they've allied with most of the independent states. The good news is that Snowy Cove is decidedly against them- and the Zebras will be entering the war," Wildcard explained.

Luna nodded.

"So long as you have fulfilled your end of the bargain, I will honour mine. You will have your title and citizenship, as well as your love. Inform me when you are ready to proceed, and it will be done," she said.

"You can brief us all on your exploits tomorrow at the next meeting, until then- get some rest," Luna said, and opened the door to leave.

"Good work, Wildcard," She added, leaving down the hallway. 

Lyra returned shortly, smart enough not to question any of this. She set back to her work while Wildcard lay his head down at his desk, his rest was soon interrupted when a hoof gentle raised his head.

"You look like crap," First Class said, smiling down at him.

"You should see the other guy," Wildcard said, returning hers with a weak smile of his own.

She plopped down in front of the desk.

"So it's done?" She asked, holding his head up.

"For now, yes. You'll hear all about it at the meeting tomorrow. We've got our protection," Wildcard said.

First Class nodded, and plopped a large binder on his desk.

"Speaking of meetings, here's what you missed," She said, pushing it towards Wildcard.

He slumped into his chair, and with a swift motion pulled two glasses out his desk along with a bottle of cider.

"Thirsty?" He asked, pouring them both full.

"Sure why not, Celestia's meeting with one of the Zebras all day- privately," She said, taking her glass.

Wildcard noted how fast the Zebra's worked. He also flipped on the radio, but instead of the expected smooth jazz a jumble of static, and what sounded like an air raid siren, came through.

"...total chaos in Manehatten, streets falling into the ground..."

There was a pause as whoever was speaking broke into a run, surrounded by screams of fear and a rumbling series of explosions. Wildcard and First Class shared a worried look. Wildcard turned up the volume while Lyra looked on from behind.

"It's not safe here, get out of the str-" Flash Sentry, or so Wildcard believed, shouted in the background before the feed turned to a series of buzzing pulses.

"CIVIL DEFENSE UPDATE. CITIZENS IN: MANEHATTEN, FILLYDELPHIA, HOLLOW SHADES- REMAIN IN YOUR HOMES OR PLACES OF BUSINESS AND AWAIT FURTHER INSTRUCTIONS. DO NOT GO OUTSIDE. THIS IS NOT A TEST"

Wildcard slumped in his chair and downed his glass, glancing at the calender he noted the day. The room rumbled as the fleet over the city began to scramble.

Friday.
	

	

	
	
> Short: Black Friday
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Sergeant Flash Sentry- YYK2238. Orange pegasus, graduate of the Wonderbolts academy. Top in his class for crossbow skills, average flight speed. Denied application into the pre-war Wonderbolts because of a 'tendency to pursue self advancement over the needs of the unit." or, in his words, "I was too good for them." He had joined the Equestrian Royal Guard to prove them wrong, and had ended up nearly losing the Elements of Harmony by foolishly divulging their location when attacked by a stranger that came out of a magical mirror. Since then he has lamented the loss of what was once a promising career. His rank is sergeant, attached to 45th signals out of Canterlot. In essence, however, he's a desk jockey sent to do the work nopony else wants to do. 

He's actually only sergeant by technicality, requiring that rank to use access the classified information he often did. he's about as far down in the chain of command as you can get.  He had almost been Captain once, and had the rank of Lieutenant before insisting on a transfer to the Canterlot Guard. 

Thursday in Manehatten, and Flash Sentry is bored. For almost a week he had gotten up at a government provided hotel room, and trotted outside to this table. There he sat, for eight hours, handing out fliers and trying to get volunteers to sign up for the Legion. Nobody really wanted in, the populace seemed stuck in a middle ground between 'so afraid of the griffons they're willing to sacrifice anything to stop them' and 'afraid enough not to sign up'. The general opinion, basically, was that the Legion and Wonderbolts had it all under control, and even if they failed- Celestia never did. Baltimare was seen as less of a front line in a war, and more a contained disaster area. 

Flash sighed and plopped his head down on the table. Stacks of brochures surrounded him. The fact that the highlight was 'visit foreign lands' amused him endlessly. Otherwise he didn't really take his job out here too seriously. Gazing over towards the coast in the distance a few ships of the fleet could be seen hovering above the ocean. That is where he should be, that's where the war was.  Out there brave pegasi of the Wonderbolts fought to defend their nation, to the ends of themselves if need be.

Here he was, laying on a table while passerby very pointedly ignored him. Glancing at the clock hanging across the street it read 5PM, and he glanced over at the subway station. Just as expected, a brown pegasus came out, glanced around, and flew off. He had done that at this exact time for three days. More possibly, if he had been doing it before Flash arrived at his lofty post. He was probably just some business pony, eager to get home after work. The way he glanced around though, it almost made Flash think he was up to something. 

He shook his head and tried to put on his best impression of caring about his current job. That was a matter for the police, and they were already mad that he dared point out how stupid it was for them to not be armed during a war. He could understand unarmed police during peacetime, obviously, the old guard had after all been unarmed most of the time. This was a war though, and Manehatten was an important strategic city sitting right on the coast, the griffons would be fools to not try something eventually. In essence his complaint was the same as it was with the general populace- a near total reliance on the Legion to save them. One day the legion wouldn't be there, and he could only hope that they had gotten wise by then. They were a few weeks into this thing and you could barely even tell, they weren't even rationing yet. It's like the entire populace was lost in a blissful ignorant hope that if they just pretended the war didn't exist, then it would just disappear. They seemed to regard Baltimare as if an earthquake had taken it, or some other contained natural disaster.

After a while Flash noticed that a pony across the street was eyeing him, and he glared across, receiving a vacant stare back. Green eyes that made it impossible to figure out what he was thinking- a changeling. A red medallion hung around his neck marked his registration, and he would be unable to shapeshift with the enchantments on it. Flash had nothing against them, but the eerie stare was creepy him out.

Flash coughed. "Hey buddy, can I help you with something?" He asked across the street. 

The changeling- if Flash was right the green eyes meant it was a warrior, glanced around and quickly strode towards him. His head was held low, as if he was expecting something to come and lop it off. An adorable tiny satchel, branded with the flag of the Changeling Hive, hung around his back. He was shorter then most changelings Flash had seen, probably a youth.

"Friend guard... could I join you?" He asked.

Flash was stunned, and cocked his head automatically.

"You... want to join the Legion?" He asked.

The changeling nodded. 

Flash scratched his head, which was at a 45 degree angle of confusion. There wasn't anything that specifically said he couldn't, nobody had ever even considered it. The changelings, other then the strange specimen of their ambassador, were loyal to their queen to the point of fanaticism. 

Or were they?

"Well, I suppose you can sign up, but it wouldn't be m-" 

The changeling gave him a huge grin, fangs gleaming in the light, and he wiggled his entire backside happily as he scrawled his name on the sign up sheet. 

"Ponies cal me Fangface," He added.

"That's... nice. You can call me Flash," Flash said. The changeling sat himself down, looking up to him. He was like a lost puppy or something.

"The Queen scares me, you're all nicer," he said, and grabbed one of the brochures off the table.

"Oh! Do you all get crossbows?" "No, jus-" "Is the armour really this nice?" "No, that's just the dr-" "Do you get to see Celestia?" "Not rea-" 

He gasped and slammed the paper down on the table, frantically tapping at it.

"Who's this!?" He demanded.

Flash leaned forward to look at it. "Air Martial Spitfire," he replied.

Fangface withdrew the brochure and clutched it close to his heart. "She's beautiful," he sighed.

Flash rubbed his forehead. "A little out of your league kid," He noted, and glanced around. Nobody had really been interested in this little recruiting drive since he started, nobody would notice if he was gone for a little while.

"How old are you, Fangface?" Flash asked.

"Sixteen," He replied, looking up curiously.

Flash smiled. "Let's go get a drink." he said, and beckoned his new friend follow. Pausing for a second to admire the brochure once more, he sighed and stuffed it in his satchel. He met the smile of his new friend, and followed him closely down the street.

The sight of a young changeling warrior wagging his tail beside a uniformed member of the guard would have been quite a sight, but these days nopony really even noticed. Equestria Daily had even stopped reporting on the Ambassador's drunken antics, moving on instead to breathless reporting on the war. They had managed to get a reporter into the last meeting in Canterlot, and likened Luna disagreeing with her sister as 'treason'. 

It was an example of many disagreements within the 'brass' lately, eventually they were going to have to decide who was in charge of this whole thing ultimately, a true leader. Somepony who could have the final say on everything. Celestia had always had that role, unofficially, but perhaps it was time for a change. Either she needed to step up and assume real authority, or let somepony else run things. 

Granted she tried to take over the world once, but noponies perfect.

Coming up on their destination, Flash paused and gestured at the sign hanging above the establishment.

"Applebucks, best cider on the continent!" Flash said, and pulled his gawking sidekick inside. 

Inside they found the establishment had a 980's theme, which was fine; Flash loved 80's pop. He took a seat on a red bar stool and bade his friend do the same. He tapped his hooves to the music, if he was right it was "I Flew" by "A Flock of Pegasi". A little overplayed, but good nonetheless.

"Why are they all wearing sleeves on their legs?" Fangface asked, glancing around at the leg-warmer clad staff.

"The 80s man, It's all about the 80s." Flash replied, and left his confused friend scratching his friend as the barkeep noticed them. She wore a red dress, and didn't appear too happy to be living the 80s over every day.

She put on a fake smile and addressed them. "What can I get you two?"  She asked.

Flash glanced up at the board behind her, and noticed "The Universe" was highlighted.

"What's uh, what's in 'The Universe'?" He asked, glancing over Fangface scratched the back of his ear, watching intently. His medallion jangled against his chest.

"Ponyville Cider, 10%, with a shot of citrus." She replied.

Flash nodded. "Sounds good, we'll take two," he said, and reached into his uniform. He pulled out his military ID- the discount was half the reason he had joined up years ago instead of just becoming a civilian weatherpony.

The barkeep peered at it, flipping it over in her hoof. 

"Eh, I suppose it's legit- but aren't you on duty soldier?" She asked, returning it.

Flash laughed as he pocketed it. "What duty?"

The waitress gave him an odd look and went to get their drinks, and Flash was startled as Fangface grabbed and spun him to face the changeling.

"Did you disobey... an order?" He asked, as if the very idea was blasphemy.

"Nah," Flash said, brushing his hooves off. "My mission is to recruit, and that's exactly what I'm doing," He said, and spun his chair to face the room.

"ANYBODY WANT TO JOIN THE LEGION?" He yelled.

His reply was a few tired glances, and he spun back to the counter.

"See? Mission accomplished. Now what about you, Fangface, shouldn't you be with your people?" Flash asked.

Fangface dropped his head on the counter with an audible smack. "An Eta told me to leave, so I did." 

Flash patted him on the back, "An Eta?" He asked.

"A leader. If he wants me to leave, then he must be right," Fangface lamented.

A drink slid over and clanked against his head, Flash caught his own without glancing at it.

"Ah cheer up buddy, you'll make it in the end," Flash said. He felt sorry for the little changeling, he seemed to have the same career problems he had.

"That's why I want to be a pony soldier, I'll prove to the Eta's that I'm a good warrior!" He exclaimed, and smiled up as his friend. 

"Like you!" 

Flash nearly spat out his drink. "I wouldn't go that far kid, there's a reason I'm here," he gestured out the window towards the coast, "and not out there."

"You're nice though, I'm sure you'll convince your Eta's to promote you," Fangface said, and took a sip from his drink.

His eyes shot open, and he fell backwards. Flash caught him with one hoof, and his drink with the other. The changeling turned to him with a look of utter euphoria.

"This is amazing!" he breathed.

Flash grinned down and pushed him back up, handing him back his drink. "You guys really do like this stuff, I thought it was just the Ambassador." 

Fangface turned again to him, looking up at him as if he was a god. "You know the Ambassador?" He asked.

"Well, yeah. I used to patrol the castle and met him a few times. Nice guy," He replied.

"Could you... ask him something for me?" Fangface asked.

"Sure, I don't see why not," Flash replied.

Fangface glanced around, and then leaned in to whisper into Flash's ear.

"Ask him if I can be a citizen."

Flash cocked his head and turned to him. "That's not really his job, shouldn't you ask Celestia or something?" He suggested.

Fangface shook his head. "I need an Eta to approve it, or it would just feel... wrong. The Ambassador is the head Eta in Equestria," He explained.

Flash supposed he had a point, the Hive was a weird military society, so he would have to get some sort of a transfer. The Ambassador didn't seem to have much truck with it himself, and it was fairly clear he barely even cared for the Queen. What that meant for his future Flash wasn't sure, but it wasn't his place to judge. The Ambassador was certainly an interesting character.

Before Flash could reply a shrill screech replace the music, and was followed by the three tones that heralded a civil defense broadcast. Fangface yelped and hid himself under a table. Flash sighed, after Princess Twilight Sparkle had mandated CD broadcasts be able to overtake any other signals they became a near daily thing.

"Civil Defense Update. Residents of Manehatten are requested to cancel any travel plans, and remain in the city. Curfew now in effect for 7PM, any citizens caught outside are subject to fines or imprisonment." A staticy voice ordered.

Flash leaned forward as the crowd quickly poured out of the establishment in a panic, and he drained the remains of his, and his new friends, drinks. Once the rest had left he spun around to find him shaking under a table. Glancing at a clock he realized the reason for the hasty exit of the rest- it was 6:50.

"Come on Fangface," Flash said, pulling the shaky changeling out. "Where are you staying?" He asked.

The changeling looked up at him, still shaking. "Under a tree in the park." 

Flash sighed and pulled him under his wing. "That won't do, you can bunk with me tonight," He offered. Fangface looked up at him and smiled.

"You would make a good Eta," Fangface said. 

He led the changeling out under his wing, feeling him press up against himself. 

Well, I always did want a brother.

The hotel wasn't far away- across the street from where Flash had set up his little recruiting stand, and on the top floor was where the room lay. The pair flew up to the balcony and Flash unlocked the door, Fangface quickly brushing past him inside. 

It was a very decent room, and thanks to the war basically shutting tourism down nobody had complained he had picked one of the more fancy rooms with his mandate. A large bed had it's head against the wall, and a portrait of Luna hung above. A low wall separated this space from a large room with a couch, a coffee table, and the rare television that some of the more well-off ponies had begun to purchase. There was also a nice kitchen, which Flash had stocked with cider and other food. Behind a door lay the washroom, and there was a closet next to the inside door that went unused. All Flash had, or needed, was his uniform. Why ponies wore more clothes then that was always a mystery to him.

Flash stepped in after, and was amused to watch as he inspected every inch of the place.

"Wow, you get to stay here? It's so nice!" He exclaimed, pawing at the carpet. 

"One of the perks of working in the legion, Fangface: billeting." Flash said, and tossed his uniform on the bed before going to the kitchen.

"What's billeting?" Fangface asked, looking mesmerized at his reflection in the television

Flash meanwhile was looking through the fridge. "Means I can walk in here and demand a room, we're at war you know," Flash said, tossing a few apples out onto the counter.

Fangface trotted over, peering up at Flash.

"They must really trust you," he noted. 

Flash patted him on the head. "Maybe, or maybe they just want me somewhere I can't do any damage," He lamented. 

"Why are you so hard on yourself?" Fangface asked, plopping himself down on the tile floor.

Flash sighed, and opened a drawer to get a knife to cut the apples. He figured he would make a pie.

"I made a few mistakes, " Flash replied, and took a second to gaze out the window at the airships.

Fangface tugged at his wing, and Flash looked down to see him smiling up at him. Flash couldn't help but reciprocate.

"So un-make them, Flash. Show your Eta's how good you are," He said, and trotted out into the other room. 

Flash wanted to tell him it wasn't that easy, but figured he would rather not spoil the moment. While the changeling fiddled with the television (eventually startling himself when it came on, showing some black and white stage show), Flash made them both a pie. He wasn't able to find any Ponyville apples; apparently they mostly became cider now, but was able to find a good crop of Appleloosa ones. Everypony knew that you got your apples from the extended Apple family, or you didn't get them at all. Must be nice to have that kind of monopoly, Flash thought.

Flash tossed the pie in the oven and joined his friend, curiously Fangface didn't sit on the couch, instead he was curled up on the carpet watching the television. Flash plopped himself down on the couch.

"Y'know, we've got a couch," he said.

Fangface shrugged and pawed at the carpet. "It's so soft though," he said, and rolled on his back, wiggling around on the carpet. 

Flash shook his head and slunk into the couch, at least this meant he would get the bed for himself.

Together they watched the program in silence while the pie cooked. A small ticker ran along the bottom of the screen constantly repeating the civil defence information from earlier. It was probably yet another drill, or maybe the fleet was engaged out over the ocean. Flash absolutely hated being out of the know, why it had to be him out here instead of a newer recruit or something he had no idea. 

After around an hour of watching what would appear to be a stage play about a griffon hiding in the woods and attacking a foal, which almost seemed blatantly propagandist, the oven dinged and Flash got up, gingerly stepping around the napping changeling at his hooves. Flash glanced back at him, and he couldn't help smile as he made a cute little squeaking sound as he slept. If the changelings found a way to weaponize this sort of thing they were all doomed. He even seemed to glow slightly, probably because he was basically awash in Flash's own magic energy. He didn't mind, it's not like he had a horn or anything.

Putting on a pair of oven mitts, lamenting his own lack of magic, he took the pie out and set it on the counter. Using his wings to cool it, the smell wafted throughout the room, it was a perfect creation, anypony would be proud to call this pie their own. The evening sun filled the room with it's orange glow as it fell over the waters of the ocean, a few distant ships visible contrasting it. 

Flash, for the first time in quite a while, felt good about his life. Sure his career was still dead, but he found a friend today- and if this nation stood for anything, it was friendship. 

Fangface tugged on his wing, apparently awoken by the smell of the glorious pie on the counter. 

"I've never had a pony pie before," He said, peering up at the steaming pie.

Flash laughed. "You've missed out on a lot of good things, must be pretty boring in the hive," he commented, and deftly cut the pie into eight pieces. 

"I know!" Fangface said, doing a happy little spin. "There's so much to see in Equestria, and everybody is so nice!"

He buzzed his little wings to lift himself to Flash's height.

"I wish the Queen wasn't so... mean. I wish we could all be like you," He said.

Flash turned to grab a few plates. "What do you mean 'mean'?" he asked.

Fangface did a little dip in the air, a flying shrug. "She's always trying to 'expand the territory', I don't think she cares about us, not really," He said, Flash noticed he was frowning.

Flash ruffled his mane. "Don't worry about it kid, you've got us now," He said, handing him a plate, dumping a slice into his own.

Fangface was immediately uplifted, and cocked his head at the plate before tossing it aside, plummeting his face into the pie. Flash snickered and leaned against the counter, watching amused as he quickly devoured everything less his own slice. He had a big (government paid for!) lunch, so he didn't mind. He had no idea anybody could enjoy an apple pie so much. Once he had his fill (Flash was still working on his own),  Fangface fluttered to the ground and sat, a great grin on his crumb covered face.

"I didn't even know you could do that with apples," He sighed.

Flash patted him on the head and finished his, leaving the mess for room service to clean up later. 

"You'll learn, you'll be one of the herd soon," Flash said. 

Before he could continue he was startled to hear the phone ring, Fangface scurried under the counter while Flash picked up the phone with one hoof, and pulled him out with the other. 

"Sergeant Flash Sentry, 45th Signals," Flash said into the mouthpiece. Fangface looked on, seemingly awed by something as simple as a phone.

"Good evening Flash, it's General Massé. How's the recruitment going?" The general asked, Flash could hear the chirping of the telegraphs in the background. How he wished he was there.

"Well," Flash glanced at Fangface. "I've got one promising recruit, a changeling actually," Flash replied.

There was short pause, and a strange clicking sound caused him to flinch. Probably nothing, wasn't the first time the lines did something weird.

"Well, that's interesting. Didn't expect much results, but I figured you needed some time off. Anyway, Flash, I have good news," The general said, pausing for effect. 

"Your transfer to the Magnificent was approved, on one condition I have to add," The general said, and Flashes eyes lit up with excitement. 

"Anything!" He exclaimed.

"You can't go on the bridge, you'll be assigned to one of the signals intelligence units on board. You will also be restarting your career as a cadet." The general explained.

"I can't... go on the bridge?" Flash asked.

"Order came from Spitfire herself, says it would be improper for family to be too close on a 'vessel of war'. You're free to turn the offer down, of course."

Flash frowned, and turned his head to peer at the ground. It was everything he wanted, yet nothing he wanted. 

"I'll think about it," he said, and clicked the phone down on the receiver.

Fangface tugged at him, not even his adorable yawn could break Flash's frown. Although he couldn't help but repeat it. It was getting rather late, and the moon had replaced the sun outside. 

"You look sad," Fangface commented.

"I'm not sad, I'm just... I've got a dilemma." Flash replied. 

Fangface tugged him over to the couch, and sat himself down, patting the seat beside him. 

"Maybe I can help," He said. Flash sat himself, but didn't see how a changeling warrior youth could possibly help. 

"Alright, here's the deal," Flash said, and took a deep breath. 

"My mom right? She's been in the Wonderbolts for decades, and since I never knew my father she's all I had growing up. When I was really young she would take me with her wherever they went, I saw all of Equestria on her back. When it came time for me to enroll in school I had to stay... but she kept going," He paused, and frowned at the carpet. 

"I tried my best at school, but all I could ever get was number two. The harder I tried, the harder whoever was ahead of me tried. I had friends, but as soon as I graduated they all moved on to the Wonderbolts... and I didn't." Flash said, and released a sigh deep from within, stiffing a tear.

"Why not?" Fangface asked.

"They said I was disrespectful of authority, so they denied me. I kinda... flew off the handle at Spitfire actually, and she made it very clear there was no future for me there. So I signed up with the old guard, and rose in the ranks pretty quickly because most pegasi that graduate go on to be Wonderbolts, so I was sort of the lead pegasus." 

"Well that's good!" Fangface asked. Flash shook his head.

"I was 'sort of the lead pegasus'. I made a bad decision in the Crystal Empire barely a week in there- I was actually going to be Captain!" He exclaimed, deeply angry with himself. "But I threw it all away!"	

Fangface tapped his chin, considering this. "I saw Cadence once, she seemed really nice. Maybe if you say so-" 

Flash's rage cut him short. "I nearly lost the elements of harmony! How can I expect them to trust me if I don't trust me!" Flash yelled, and then he slumped into the couch, surprised at himself.

Fangface craned his neck over, gazing with his green eyes into Flash's. Flash felt a warm embrace, and realized that Fangface was actually hugging him with magic. 

"I trust you, why don't you trust you?" 

"Because I failed Fangface, what if I fail again?"

"Then try again, and keep trying. I failed dozens of times, that's why I'm here!" Fangface said, smiling.

Flash sighed. "It's too late now, I'm a glorified desk jockey with a choice between that, or cadet on the Magnificent,"

Fangface nodded. "Pick one, and be good at it. Even second best is still good, the Ambassador is second best, and he's pretty nice!" 

Flash smiled weakly back at him, maybe he was right. That still left the question as to if he should accept the offer. 

Fangface yawned again, and slouched into the couch.

"I suppose I'll sleep on it," Flash mumbled, and trotted off to the bed. Fangface followed him, but curiously didn't use the other side- it was quite a large bed. 

"Uh, buddy?" Flash asked, sitting on his side. 

Fangface looked at him and shook his head. "I can't let this soft carpet go to waste," he said, and curled himself up at the end of the bed.

Well, bed was all his. Flash kicked his uniform off and lay his head on the pillow, quickly falling into the first restful sleep he had had in weeks. 

In his dreamscape he was somewhat, but not entirely, surprised to be greeted by the Princess of the Night. She had a way of getting into your mind when you had a dilemma of some sort, or if you happened to be an enemy of the nation. If you were guilty of some crime, you could never tell if you were having nightmares or if she was actually trying to scare you to come clean. She had continued this even during her exile, thus the monicker 'Nightmare Moon'.

She stood on the bridge of an airship, Flash assumed it was meant to be the Magnificent, but he had never seen it for himself.

"Sergeant Flash Sentry, you've got a career in the guard- why are you so obsessed with joining the Wonderbolts?" She asked.

Flash paused, careful to consider his answer. It was unwise in the extreme to lie to Princess Luna, she was after all inside your own mind. 

"I want to make my mother proud," he replied.

Luna kicked something behind her, and the craft seemed to shudder into motion.

"But she is, Don't you read her letters?" Luna asked.

Flash shook his head. "No, I never had anything good to reply with," He explained.

"Really?" Luna asked, and slowly began to approach Flash. "Not even your promotions in the guard? You were almost Captain of the Crystal Imperial Legion, I always was curious why you turned it down. You seemed to have given up on your career," She said. 

"I couldn't accept that, not after what I had done. I didn't have their trust, I don't even have my own," Flash lamented. 

Luna halted before him, and prodded him with a hoof. Looking down he noticed he was clad in the dress armour of a legionnaire. 

"But you did! Nobody truly blamed you for revealing what you did, and it's quite possible she would have found out in her own way. You may have set the textbook example of loose lips, but that's only a hiccup in what was a promising career," Luna said. 

The armour vanished, and out the window Flash could see the ocean, it seemed endless despite the ship seeming to move at an incredible speed. 

"You gave up," Luna said, and the ship halted, throwing Flash forward. When he came out up he noticed out the window was a small island. On it was a gleaming golden structure, shaped like a wing.

"We all stumble, Flash. Even myself, as I'm sure you are well aware." Luna said behind him.

Flash was quite aware, and realized how trivial his own problems must seem to an ancient alicorn Princess that had once overthrown a god of chaos, tried to take over the world, and spent a millennium exiled on the moon. 

The ship fell from the sky, and just as it was about to impact the ocean she added one last thing.

"Get back up."

Flash awoke, the early morning sun streaming in the window. He was covered in a cold sweat and a concerned looking Fangface stood beside the bed.

"You were shaking, I was worried," He said.

"Just a nightmare. Actually I think I just found out why they call it a night mare," Flash said, and hopped off the bed. Glancing outside he noticed no ships were out to sea, but that wasn't his problem right now. 

"You wait here, I'm going to have a quick shower and then we can get to work," Flash said to Fangface.

His eyes brightened and he leapt up on the bed. "We are? I'm going to be a soldier?" he asked frantically.

"Not really, but I am allowed to raise a 'civilian militia in times of crisis', so if we bend the rules a little I can call you a volunteer legi-" Flash was interrupted by a flying hug.

"Thank you!" Fangface exclaimed, embracing him tightly. 

Flash waited a minute, but was forced to pry the happy little changeling off so he could get back to his life. With the changeling watching him he left for the washroom, and could hear him fiddling with the television. Flash turned on the tap, and a delightful stream of hot water greeted him. He wondered if it would be possible for Fangface to stay with him somehow, the little guy was certainly growing on him. If he stayed in the legion he could probably apprentice him, it could even be a PR boost for citizens to see them working together.

When Flash left, after a few minutes of showering, he quickly dried himself with his wings and found Fangface outside, entranced by the TV. He absentmindedly gestured Flash over, and he found the morning broadcast from Canterlot.

Celestia stood before a collection of microphones, and seemed to radiate a deep sadness even through the television. It was clear to Flash that she was never a 'war leader', she was the velvet glove of peace. Every loss must weigh on her heavily.

"Citizens of Equestria, and the Crystal Empire. It is with a heavy heart, and no small amount of regret, that I come before you today to announce that, as of today, rationing will commence across the nation. It has become clear that this conflict will last must longer than I had feared, and we must prepare for the coming winter. A darkness is falling over our land, and only through valiant sacrifice will be we be able to cast it away."

The reporters turned to rabble as Flash watched, eventually they calmed down and Celestia selected one for questions.

"Will you be instituting the draft?" He asked.

"I remain undecided at this time." Celestia replied.

"Are the Equestrian Games still off?" Another asked.

"Until Princess Cadence says otherwise, yes," She replied.

"What about Baltimare, when will we be able to return to our homes!" Somebody shouted from the back. 

"The situation in Baltimare is fluid, I will tell you more when I know m-" She was cut off by a wave of rabble, and shuffled off the podium to be replaced by her sister. 

"THIS RABBLE WILL BE SILENT." She shouted, shaking the camera. 

There was silence, and then she pointed forwards and a reporter could be heard to stand, heralded by the sound of papers shaking in their hooves.

"W-Will you be instituting the draft, if your sister won't?"

"Firstly, I will remind you that my 'sister' is Princess Celestia to you. Secondly, no. Where the sun shines, My sister will decide." Luna replied.

She gestured to another reporter.

"What about the rumors of Night Guards arresting griffon citizens?" She asked

"I will not comment on rumours and heresay. Now get out." Luna ordered. The reporter was heard to shuffle off awkwardly, passing in front of the camera. Flash grinned, Luna knew how to control a situation like this.

"I will accept one more question from the stallion at the front." She said.

"Will you take the regency?" He asked.

Now that was a loaded question. Only once had Equestria had a 'Queen Regent', and that was the few weeks following Luna's exile when Celestia cleaned up after her sister, repealing most of the laws she had passed and quashing some minor civil discontent. Perhaps a return to that idea was what they needed.

"If chosen." Luna replied, and for a brief moment a rabble started but silenced itself with but a raise of her eyebrow.

"That is all, you may go." She said, and left the room followed by member of the night guard.

Flash reached forward and clicked off the set, it was time for the pair to get to work. 

"She's.. powerful," Fangface said, Flash noticed his hair was standing on end.

"Princess Luna might be exactly what we need. Now let's get to work." Flash said, he quickly threw on his uniform and led the changeling outside. Taking a deep breath of the crisp morning air he leapt off the balcony and took wing, his companion not far behind. They took a spiraling downwards path and landed before the table Flash had set up- noting it was entirely unchanged from last night. Nobody cared enough to even steal from it.

Flash turned to Fangface. "Alright, he-" A pegasus running at great speed slammed into him, collapsing into a heap along with the huge bag he had over his back.

Flash dusted himself off and offered to help the stallion up, he recognized him as the same person that had come out of the subway every day.

"Hey buddy, you ne-" The stallion got up and continued running, quickly dissapearing into the subway. Flash noticed he had left something on the ground- A passport.

"That pony is weird," Fangface noted. 

"Yeah, he really was..." Flash said, picking it up to take a closer look. It was a Saddle Arabian passport, and according to this the stallion was one Abuze Zambique. Oddly the passport hadn't been stamped by customs. Flash decided to keep it, and report this to the police later. He pocketed it, and trotted behind the table and plopped himself down.

"Oookay so, you hand out brochures while I sit here and look good," Flash ordered.

"Cool, I get the easy job!" Fangface exclaimed, and collected a dozen of the brochures.

It took a Flash a second to get it, and he smiled. Flash Sentry and his sidekick Fangface, maybe they could form a superhero team.

Fangface darted around frantically looking for anybody interested. To Flash's surprise almost all of them were, taking brochures and gossiping about the curious sight of a short changeling handing out legion recruitment material. Half an hour later a dozen ponies had signed up, more then the rest of his time there combined. Each of them asked if Fangface was really with him, and he replied in the affirmative. 

Fangface eventually ran out of brochures, and since his mission here was only to last the week Flash figured it was time pack up and head home. As he was folding up the trifold he noticed the pegasus come shooting out of the subway. 

"Hey! You forgot yo-" 

Flash's frantic shouting was interrupted by a deep rumble within the earth, the whole street shook and windows shattered in the buildings above. He grabbed Fangface and dove under the table to avoid the shards.

"What's going on!" Fangface exclaimed over the noise of a glass rain.

"I do-" Flash was once again interrupted, this time by the shrill blare of the emergency sirens. His heart sunk and he realized what was going on.

"We're under attack," he stated plainly. 

This is what he had trained for, this was his purpose in life. Find a unit, fight with them, prove yourself. As soon as the glass rain stopped, a crowd of civilians raced down the street. Flash came out from under the table and waved at them.

"Hey! It's not safe here, get out of the street!" He shouted. 

Another rumbling threw him off his feet, and it took a second to realize he was actually falling. Not long after was the feeling replaced with his body smacking against hard concrete and rolling off to the side. Through the dusty air he could tell that he had ended up in a subway tunnel, a wrecked train barely visible on the tracks. Coughing up dust he used his wings to clear the air around him and desperately searched for Fangface. Flash found him, thankfully, uninjured and cowering under his own hooves. Flash tapped him on the back and gestured up.

"Let's get out of here, form up with the legion!" Flash shouted.

Fangface peered upwards, and recoiled in horror. Following his gaze Flash realized it wouldn't be as easy as that- the hotel was falling. It was falling on them. Glancing around desperately Flash spotted a small side tunnel, and grabbed Fangface. Behind him Flash noticed a few others, scrambling towards the same exit. Fangface noticed them too, and Flash felt an odd pull at his insides as a green field overtook them, and they were pulled down into the tunnel with the pair.

Before anybody could speak, or collect themselves, the building slamming into the hole and tossed the group downwards with a blast of air. They rolled to the bottom in a heap, and darkness overtook everything as a gigantic noise deafened them all, followed by a wave of hot steam that blasted into the room for a second. Flash tried to get up, but even filled with adrenaline he couldn't move. Something was crushing his legs.

The darkness was split open by the light of a unicorns horn, it's soft blue light covered the room, which would appear to be the boiler room for a large building. The tunnel they had come in through was filled with rubble, and it appeared that was the only way in and out. A few other ponies, all earth, dusted themselves and stood up. Their fearful gazes darted around the room before settling on Flash. As the only uniformed soldier they probably expected to lead him. Fangface, he noted, was peering at his flank. 

"Alright everybody, L-" Flash turned his head to see what was so interesting, and found a large piece of metal had come to settle on his left leg he couldn't feel any pain, just a warm feeling on his flank. 

"Oh." 

The one unicorn ran over and slid to a stop, while a blue/green field overtook the debris.

"Don't move it yet!" She shouted at Fangface, and then turned to Flash. "Can you feel your leg?"

"No." Flash replied.

She gestured Fangface over and whispered something in his ear, followed by a horrified glance back at Flash by the changeling. Flash was a trained soldier, but even he couldn't hide his fear. He shuddered, and felt his fur come on end.

"Come on you two, it can't be that bad!" Flash shouted.

"Soldier, it's been cut clean off. The only thing keeping you alive right now is this piece of metal, it looks like your upper leg has been burnt right onto it. It's a small miracle too, if it hadn't your femoral would spitting out." The unicorn said. She glanced back behind the metal and quickly looked away, whatever was on the other side greatly disturbed her.

Flash released a scream of terror that echoed in the room for a good thirty seconds, and his vision began to blur as he desperately struggled to pull himself free. The unicorn couldn't be right, this didn't happen! Nobody lost limbs, they had magic, and medicine, and alicorn demi-gods that controlled the stars! 

"No!" Flash shouted, and felt a field holding him still.

"Stop struggling or you'll just make things worse!" The unicorn ordered. 

"You're a unicorn! Fix me!" Flash shouted back.

"It's not that simple soldier, I don't have the tools. You'll have to wait until we get rescued!"

Flash struggled with all his energy against the field, but it only became stronger. He gritted his teeth and his vision faded in and out. He wasn't going to accept this, there had to be some way he could emerge from this the victory, a bit of metal couldn't beat him!

Flash heard some whispering behind him but ignored it, pressing himself still against the field. It was impossible that he be powerless against his fate, not a fate like this. Not...

Fangface came before him and put a hoof on his shoulder, reaching through the field.

"Flash, you have to calm down," He pleaded.

Flash refused, and continued struggling. "I can't give up! I can't accept this, there's no such thing as a three legged Wonderbolt!" Flash shouted, tears streaming down his face.

"I can't shapeshift," Fangface said.

Flash paused and looked at him incredulously. "You.. can't shapeshift?" He asked.

"Why do you think my Eta kicked me out?" Fangface replied. 

"I... I never thought about it," Flash admitted. "I don't think any less of you for it," He added.

"Nobodies going to think any less of you with three legs, or four. You're Flash Sentry, and you're the nicest pony I've ever known," Fangface said, and looked at Flash with a warm smile. 

Flash reached forward and pulled him in. Into his shoulder he cried, and accepted his fate as the blue field faded away. He would never be a Wonderbolt, his fate was sealed in that regard. However, he could still be the very best three-legged guard the world had ever seen, and he made a pact with himself to carry it out. Releasing Fangface he smiled weakly at him.

"Thank you," He said, before the shock caught up with him and sent him into the void of unconsciousness.  

Fangface looked down on his friend. His only, and his best. The unicorn approached and took his side as the others in the group continued to look on from behind.

"Is that true?" She asked. "That you can't shapeshift?" 

Fangface nodded. 

"Well, he's lucky to have a friend like you. What's his name?" She asked.

"Sergeant Flash Sentry, the best soldier in the entire Legion," Fangface said.

"Hey speaking of the legion, how did this happen?" One of the crowd stepped forward and asked. "Aren't they supposed to protect us?" 

The unicorn seemed to take that personally, and cleared her throat before speaking again. "You're kidding right? Do you even pay attention to the news? Dozens of those brave mares and stallions have been going to their graves every day for weeks to protect you. We're at war, this is what happens- and these two saved your life!" She barked.

"Who are you to accuse me of not paying attention? I work for the paper, if this nation wasn't run so foolishly nobody would be going to any graves! Not us, not them, and he would still have his leg!" He shouted, pointing towards Flash.

"I am Lieutenant Tulle Gras, 48th Medical Support. I was here on leave, and you're getting awfully disrespectful," She threatened. Fangface bared his Fangs at the stallion, while the rest of the group moved away from him. 

"Disrespectful of who? Our Alicorn Overlords? Why are they in charge? Not a single one of us was asked if we wanted to start this stupid war, what are we even fighting for? An idiotic relic?"

Tulle Gras walked towards him with a fire in her eyes, the shimmering light from her horn becoming much brighter.

"We're fighting to show the world that we're not a herd of sheep to be trifled with. We're fighting for our right to exist as a free people. Don't you remember what happened to Baltimare? If you have a problem with our leadership- leave," She said.

The stallion glanced behind him and backed up while she continued her advance, Fangface snarling at her side.

"You're just another armed bully, protector of the status quo. Baltimare was a contained disaster until Celestia decided to start a war, to protect shapeshifters no less!" He accused, and found himself up against the wall

Tulle prodded him with a hoof. "Yeah, you tell yourself that you coward. When you get out of here, and go back to your nice safe office, I've got a quote for you."

She stared him down, sweat beaded on his forehead and he glanced around. 

"Buck you."

She turned and left the scared little colt for the others, and Fangface followed at her tail. She had them form a circle around Flash, and started a magical fire for warmth and light. The next few hours went by in a fearful silence, as she and Fangface kept a close watch on the wounded soldier. Barely audible from outside were the telltale cracks of firearms, and more explosions that would occasionally sake the ground. Eventually, the noise gave way to an almost deafening silence.

"Do you think it's over?" One of the ponies asked.

"I hope so, but it'll be a while before we get rescued. We'll be l-" She was interrupted by a great noise from the direction of the collapsed tunnel. To their great shock and relief it was followed by a voice from above.

"Is anybody down there!" It shouted.

"Yes, and we've got injured!" Tulle shouted back.

There was a pause as muffled voices from above discussed something, and the group glanced at each other.

"How bad?" 

"Possibly critical!" Tulle returned, followed by another pause.

"Hold on, help is on the way!" 

Fangface tugged at her, and she looked down to see his worried face. "Critical?" 

She pointed at the metal debris, which apparently came from some sort of vent running along the ceiling. "If we don't get that removed just the right way, we'll lose him almost immediately," She explained.

Fangface nodded and laid himself down against his friend. 

A few minutes later, as the group was excitedly chattering about their pending rescue, the remaining debris was blown away by a magical force, and in strode a half dozen Wonderbolts, two of which carried a stretcher. They glanced around and quickly spotted Flash, running towards him while the group brushed past them to safety. 

"Don't move him!" Tulle yelled, just as they were about to pull him up. She pointed towards the metal, and then his leg. They realized the problem immediately and backed off. 

"We need to do this extremely delicately you two got it?" She ordered, and they nodded. 

"Alright, I need you two ready to dress his wound immediately after I lift this debris, the artery might be cut so you need to work fast," She ordered. 

They glanced at each other and shuddered, grasping his leg to hold it firmly in place against the metal. One of them seemed to notice the other half of his leg, and quickly glanced away. It was nothing more then a burnt piece of flesh, and lay under a pile of rocks. There was no hope for it now, even if the upper leg hadn't been so badly burned.

"He's lucky you happened to be here," He noted.

Tulle gritted her teeth and focused all of her magic on the metal, Fangface meanwhile held his friend. While she lifted the metal] , which took an incredible amount of energy, she noticed another uniformed pegasus standing near the tunnel entrance. Ignoring this, she set herself on her task and the metal began to glow blue. Soon it was lifted enough that the remains of the soldiers upper leg could be pulled out. 

"Pull him out," She ordered. 

The two pegasi immediately dragged him forward, and Tulle released a sigh of relief when she noted no blood coming from the soldiers leg. They quickly dressed the wound with a roll of bandages, and rolled him onto the stretcher, quickly running out with him, Tulle followed but was stopped by the mare at the tunnel entrance. She seemed rather distraught, and Tulle realized who she was.

"We can take it from here," She said.

"You're his mother," Tulle said.

She nodded. "I'm Captain Northstar, and yes, Flash Sentry is my son. When I heard Baltimare was under attack I made sure to come find him- I never expected this," she lamented.

She put a hoof on Tulle's shoulder and looked at her warmly. "I owe you my thanks miss, what's your name?"

"Lieutenant Tulle Gras, 48th Medsupport," Tulle replied.

Northstar nodded. "We're both lucky you happened to be here, isn't the 48th based in Canterlot?" She asked, and led Tulle up through the tunnel.

"I was on leave, was hoping for a peaceful few days watching the ships.." Tulle replied.

Northstar glanced back, "I'll write to Canterlot and see you get your leave extended," She offered.

Tulle shook her head. "No, I think it's clear now that I've got a job to do," She replied. 

The two came out of the tunnel and into the ruined subway line. The evening light streaming in through the dust. It took a moment for their eyes to adjust, and as soon as they did she found a stunning scene. They were standing in a floor of the hotel, which was now at a 90 degree angle, and with a subway car in it. Tulle finally got a good look at Northstar. Her uniform was capped with three stars on each shoulder, and a dozen or so medals on her chest. She had the same blue mane as her son, with a bright orange coat. Her face wore the wrinkles of a lifetime of service and worry. 

"It's like this all over, they're already calling it 'Black Friday.' Northstar said, gesturing upwards, and then turning to Tulle.

"Well, as trite as it might seem- hop on my back and let's get out of here," She offered, and flapped open her wings.

Tulle approached, but was unsure. It wasn't that she couldn't bear the load, it just felt... weird. She stopped sort and blushed, unsure what to say.

Northstar laughed. "Oh come on, y'know the Saddle Arabians ride horseback all the time, they call it a mounted cavalry." She said.

Tulle was still unsure, but at this point in her life she had seen, and done, stranger things. She leapt over Northstar's back, and just as she grabbed her mane she took flight upwards through what would have been the side window of the hotel. She held on tight, as they rose through and into what used to be the street. 

Tulle wanted to close her eyes, but the view from out here was astonishing. Smoke rose from dozens of different places all around, covering the sky in an orange haze. Northstar directed her flight up towards a giant silhouette in the distance, while Tulle swallowed her fear and peered back down at the city. Most of the roads, and quite a few buildings nearby, had fallen into sinkholes.

"We think they planted bombs in the subway, we haven't seen any Griffons though, only a few dozen armed ponies! Fleet took care of them!" Northstar shouted over the howl of the wind.

"Ponies?!" Tulle asked.

"I don't get it either, I'm sure the Night Guard will figure it out!" 

Northstar burst through the smoking shroud of the city into the cleaner air above, and for the first time in her life Tulle beheld the H.M.S Magnificent. Around it were plenty of airships that would have been sights on their own, but the flagship was amazing. There was more steel in it then most of the rest of the nation combined. 

"She really is a sight isn't she?!" Northstar shouted. Tulle was in such awe she didn't even hear her. 

Northstar pitched upwards, Tulle responding by holding her ever harder. She flew over the side and onto the deck, Tulle still clutching her when she landed amongst the city like structures of the ships superstructure.

Northstar closed her wings, and turned her head to look at Tulle. She burst out laughing when she saw her shivering form clutching her like a foal.

"We're uh, we're here," Northstar said.

Tulle quickly dismounted and glanced away, desperately trying to hide how awkward she felt. She trotted over to the edge and beheld the nation in a way she never had before, the view seemed to go on forever. If she squinted she could even see Canterlot gleaming in the far, far, distance.

"Enjoy the view, we'll be back in Canterlot by morning. If you need anything, I'll be in the medical bay checking on my son," Northstar said, and without pause flew off. 

Tulle didn't look back, totally mezmerized by the view. She considered that she must be the first unicorn in a very long time to view Equestria like this. Even the smoke rising from the city below seemed to have a strange beauty to it. Perhaps she could somehow find a transfer up here, the ship seemed more like a city then anything, and she supposed the pegasi would be relieved to have crew from the other races take up roles that didn't require flight. 

She made a note to find the Air Martial and speak to her about it, but for now she just enjoyed the view. The ship turned gently towards the gleaming capital in the distance, and Tulle sat to enjoy the voyage. Something buzzed past her and she glanced back to see the changeling friend of the soldiers frantically chasing after Captain Northstar, probably anxious to make sure his friend was okay. Tulle thought about checking on him herself, but the pegasi surely had it under control themselves. She was here if they needed her.

The Air Martial was in her quarters, going over her report of today's events. The situation today had proven one thing- The Wonderbolts needed some sort of ground force attached to them. When the signal had gone out calling an attack on Manehatten they had arrived first, and found to their surprise no enemy fleet. Their ships out patrolling the ocean had been hit by something unknown overnight, but it had long since left. Acting as usual they deployed around the city to protect it- but their only enemies had come from within. Ground fire took down a half dozen fliers before they realized what was going on, and surrounded a group of mysterious ponies in a warehouse. Before Spitfire could get down there, a dozen more were lost in a hasty assault on the building.

So they had leveled it from the air. Brutal, but effective. Five had been found in the ruins, with no signs of who they were or where they came from. 

The report outlined all this, concluding that a lack of training for this sort of attack, the thin armour of the Wonderbolts, and the lack of any real stopping power with their crossbows had made this an inevitability. 

She sighed, and stared out the window. It was her fault, in the end. She should have seen this coming, but it wasn't wise to dwell on the past. When she got back to Canterlot she would speak with the field martial and ensure this never happened again. Spitifire slipped the report in a folder, stamped it TOP SECRET, and sealed it. Tomorrow would be yet another security meeting. Celestia would naively suggest half measures, the Changeling Ambassador would offer nothing of any use, and General Massé would report another neighborhood secured in Baltimare. The usual. If she was lucky, Princess Luna would be there to negate her sisters naivete. 

Spitifire didn't disrespect Celestia, but she was a leader of peace. What they needed now was a leader that knew war, and Princess Luna knew war. There was a secret in the archives, buried under a thousand years of triviality. That secret was simple, and if you paid attention to what exactly had happened a thousand years ago there was only one conclusion- Luna had won. Her forces were superior to anything Celestia had, and she had routed them on the field a half dozen times before confronting her sister in the castle. Only the elements had saved her.

Leaving the folder on her desk beside the Saddle Arabian passport one of the wounded soldiers in the city had been found with- a curious item that she anxiously wanted to speak with the soldier about, but he was in no condition; she departed her quarters and entered the bridge. Northstar was with her son, so it was left to Spitfire to helm the great ship. Of course, she could always call up a replacement, but the feeling of power that came with controlling such a vast vehicle was unparalleled and, frankly, relaxing. The regular bridge crew was replaced with a group of cadets, after the battle Spitfire had ordered them to get some rest. A few of the stations, notable comms and flight control, remained empty unless they were in battle. Those functions could be served elsewhere on the ship, and they only served to relay to the bridge during battle. Grabbing the wheel, she gently turned the ship to the south west- towards Canterlot. As soon as it had settled she gently nudged the engine order telegraph forward to cruising speed. A few seconds later the ship smoothly moved forward, leaving the pickets behind as planned. They would watch it for a day or so until the legion arrived to take control. She sat back in the helm chair, and watched the country go by as the sun disappeared behind them. 

In a few weeks they would finally have the griffons off the continent, and then the real fighting would begin. This was, of course, assuming the Legion kept to the schedule.

Spitfire was smart enough to know that never happened. 
	
> Short: Ren Excavo
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Ren Excavo had been, until a month ago, the leading Professor of Archeology at Princess Celestia's School for Gifted Unicorns- they did more then just magic there, after all. Ren had studied for a decade to get his PhD at the school, he was respected and his work was published in dozens of journals across the nation. He had even traveled across the ocean, and in more peaceful times had seen the Griffon Kingdoms for himself. He was a stallion of science, culture, and he liked a good glass of wine. His magical speciality was levitation, which he used to great effect in digging up archeological sites. He earned his cutie mark, a trowel, when he dug up half the yard in one fell swoop of magic excavation to find an ancient arrowhead. At this point in his life his mane was spotted with white hairs that complemented the brown majority of it, which contrasted with his dark green coat. A pair of spectacles made his orange eyes appear larger than they actually were.

He did not expect to spend the last month of his life training in a camp at the edge of the badlands, and even more then that he did not expect to find himself, today, cutting through trees with a squad of soldiers to recover parts of a downed griffon attack ship. Apparently they had some sort of new weapon, and the brass was eager to find out how it worked. Surrounding him were all professional guardsmen, now part of the 'Legion'; and they seemed to look down upon Ren as a civilian, despite a month of hard training. He had been with these stallions for only a week, based out of Canterlot. Their unit designation was the 47th Field Engineers.

Ren always thought the reservist pay was a good way to get an extra bottle of wine every month, he greatly regretted that decision . Professor Ren Excavo, PhD; was now Private Excavo- THX1138. 

The squad leader, Ren wasn't sure of his name- something that would fit a man who's entire life revolved around hitting things and screaming at them, threw up a hoof and the unit halted. He was a large stallion with a dark yellow coat, mane and cutie mark obscured by his uniform and helmet.

"Private Excavo, front and centre!" He ordered. Ren adjusted his glasses and came forward, ducking through the dense foliage that had turned this outing into a grueling outdoor exercise. They had been marching since daybreak, and it was late in the afternoon now. The last time Ren had gone on an outing like this he was on a camping trip- as a colt.

Normally Ren was the one giving the orders, to undergrads that amounted to... exactly what he was right now- labour.

"Yes Sir!" He shouted, coming to face his superior. His salute was returned with a silent gesture. Following it Ren spotted what they had been looking for- a wrecked vessel standing in a clearing of fallen trees.

Curiously, it seemed to have no weapons. It was a barge looking craft with a flat topside. A large hole in the side revealed a rack of small cylinders inside. There was close to a dozen of them, whatever they were. The gold trim had melted all over the ship, revealing the steel underneath. The propellers had been torn off at some point, and lay to the side along with other assorted debris, including what looked like the cockpit. 

"Private, lift it."

Ren suppressed, with much effort, a sigh. Using magic for something as trivial as manual labour seemed almost heretical. Why couldn't they just have the Wonderbolts use one of their new aircraft?

"Sir, flash going around- another engagement on the coast," one of the soldiers said, heralded by the buzzing noise of a radiograph.

That was why.

They were at war now, and as much as he hated it Professor Ren Excavo had to do his part, just like the rest of them. He lit his alicorn and surrounded the ship with a hot pink (Ren was quite aware of this, and any pony that pointed it out was liable to loose a few teeth.) field of magic. With a discernible lack of effort that changed the others thoughts from finding the fields colour hilarious, to impressed by the ease of this action, the crashed ship raised into the air and quickly flew over the trees, hovering ahead. 

The trick with magic was to never try to do anything, but to just do it. Big, small, it doesn't matter. Ren had learned this early on, and he could excavate an entire field flawlessly in minutes. He glanced back and noticed something, a small island of black stone lay under where the ship had come down, it looked like a few dark stone bricks. 

"Private! Get a move on!" His commander shouted, startling him back to attention. 

"Yes sir!" Ren replied. He smiled as he noticed the others looking up in awe as the ship hovered over the trees, sending down a dim pink glow through the canopy.

"Don't let it get to your head, private- I've seen your marksmanship scores- Squad Forward!"

The others turned away, smirking to each other. Ren frowned and took the rear. It wasn't that they didn't respect him, or him them- he just didn't fit. How was he supposed to help fight a war? The biggest fight he had ever been in was when the dean had caught him signing tests using the faculties nickname for the school- P.U.

A dull buzz heralded another message, Ren hoped it was something positive. For less then a week Equestria had officially been at war, and the first objective was taking back the ruins of Baltimare. Only hours after the declaration the Legion had swarmed in, expecting to take it quickly.

That was three days ago, and if Celestia's morning radio broadcasts were true, the Night Guard and Legion had taken turns slowly driving the griffons back. Slowly. The only thing holding the nation together now was the knowledge that Celestia had seen them through worse. Industries were nationalized, bonds sold, taxes tripled in a day- alongside new sales tax levies. The nation was behind her, and Celestia "would see them through the dark into a brighter dawn".

She would, right?

"Looks like we better get out of here, there's a squadron moving for the changelings."

"Again!?" 

"Keep it together people, let's just get out of here."

Ren glanced up through the trees, suddenly very aware of the pink glow. With a sudden thought he simply tore a tree from the ground, and with a little bit of maneuvering, hovered it over the hovering ship. Nopony seemed to notice, but he was happy enough with it. 

The group was tight, and went back down the path they had carved through the thick forest. They had abandoned their heavy metal armour back at base, and wore instead thin uniforms of green. Earth ponies all, pegasi had been swept up by the Wonderbolts and most unicorns- most- were in leadership or special operations. Ren had been disqualified for the first because, quote 'unsuitable disrespect of vertical command structure', and for the second due to his terrible eyesight.

Ahead the leader shot a hoof into the air, and the group halted. The first thing the group noticed was a huge flock of birds, of all shapes and sizes, heading in the opposite direction. Once the cacophony of avian retreat had passed, a dull roar in the distance replaced it. 

Buzz

"It's them."

The group tensed up and crouched low to the ground- for as much good as it would do, if the griffons somehow saw them through the trees the game was up. Patrols that came across raiding parties like this, well...

They didn't come back.

The low rumble became an intense roar, the trees shook above and around them, raining down leaves. Ren hovered low over the ground, an encounter with the griffons was definitely not something he, or the others, wanted. The likelihood of the enemy seeing them, or even looking at the treeline, was slim to none- but the idea still sent shivers down his spine. Ren looked ahead and noticed two of the soldiers together, whispering something. He watched as they assembled some sort of launcher from their packs. Ren mostly slept through the weapons training, but he was pretty sure it was a mortar. What they were going to do with it against aircraft was a mystery. He also noticed the commander was silent instructing them with hoof gestures, finishing with a crossing of his arms and pumping the air three times. 

He really wished he had paid more attention in training, it was one thing to cower in fear- it was another thing to be powerless to even help. 

Glancing ahead the ships passed, shining golden outlines barely visible through the tree canopy. As expected they seemed totally uninterested in the ground. They roared off in the distance and the sound was quickly joined by the crackle of the changelings response. The Crystal Empire had been had pressed making new arms during the month long build up, and the changelings...

A load pop in the distance explained that well enough, they spent the last three days putting their own arms to use. After being caught off guard they had closed the border to civilians and purchased a significant amount of weapons from... somewhere.

"Alright people, let's get back out of here before something else comes this way."

The pair carrying the mortar quickly packed it up, and the group set back the way they came. Ren stole a glance back at the clearing, that structure was clearly pony made...

Or maybe, something else?

The walk back took until the evening, distant popping echoed throughout the sky keeping them tense all along. Coming out of the forest with the sun descending below the horizon, the ship still hovering in the air over them, the group finally came to the end of their mission. Ren was exhausted in body, but figured he could probably hover the thing for another day if he wanted to. Ahead of them in the clearing a large flat unarmed ship lay on the ground, a few armoured bat ponies milling around near it. Seeing the group they stood at attention, and one of them came forward. Ren didn't recall anything about the Night Guard in the briefing.

"Lieutenant Flintlock!" The approaching bat shouted, the group glanced at each other- unsure what was going on.

"That's me, what's all this about- I wasn't briefed on a-" A buzz heralded another message.

"Uh, message for you sir, Night Guard is taking over." The signals pony said, Lt. Flintlock dashed over and tore the thin paper off the machine.

"You can't do this! It's st-"

The sun set.

"Not anymore, now set it on the ship and go home," The bat ordered, pointing up at the hovering ship. 

The group of soldier ponies tensed up, a few of them reaching back for weapons. Before they could the bats had their own out in a flash, and they had firearms for the squads crossbows. The sqaud outnumbered them six to three, but were clearly outclassed. The bats glared at them with glowing eyes. A cold shiver of fear ran down Ren's spine- this was all too similar to a little bit of ancient history, from 1001 years go.

"Do it, private." Lt. Flintlock ordered, his men stood down. Ren took a deep breath, that was too close.

"Yes Sir," He said, and flew the ship over to the barge.

"Careful!" The lead bat shouted, cringing as it dropped down. One of the cylinders was disturbed as it fell heavily down on the deck, and rolled out through the hole.

"Get down!" He yelled, 

The group leapt for the ground, Ren included. They all had that response drilled into them.

Peering through his arms ahead, Ren watched as the cylinder rolled along the top of the barge. The field was filled with a tense silence, less the sound of metal rolling on metal. It rolled, and it rolled.

And then, with a roaring sound paired with a blinding flame, it flew forwards. Knocking against the side of the barge it few downwards, bounced of the ground, and then with a kick of dirt flew up into the sky in a spiral.

"Stay down, and stay apart! It's heat activated!" The bat warned.

"You're kidding, right? You realize we're the only warm thing in the field!" One of the soldiers shouted.

Realization dawned, and glances from fearful eyes shot around the field.

One of them was going to die.

Ren stood, the rest of them glancing up in horror. Not on his watch, he might be useless physically but he still had the most important thing Equestria itself had, the unifying factor between everypony- pegasus, unicorn, earth; even the bat ponies, and most recently, the changelings.

Magic.

A pink light sprung from his horn, bathing the field with it's glow. Ignoring the protests of his comrades he shot a fireball to the sky. The missile turned almost at a right angle to fly at it. Ren guided the fireball towards the ground some distance away. Just as the missile was about to follow it to the end he twitched, and brought the fire a few meters closer. The missile impacted with a huge force that threw him backwards, slamming against the ground. A wave of shrapnel followed.

Everything faded to a black silence.

The next thing he saw was his commanders head, specifically the back of it. His head hurt and he felt like he could use a warm bath. Lifting his head he flopped it back down with a groan, it really hurt, so did the rest of him. A burning pain filled every part of his being, he tried to scream but found he couldn't.

"Looks like he's awake Lt, should I message the medics?"

"Wouldn't do any difference, he'll just have to hold out."

The head infront of Ren glanced back at him, he couldn't feel any of limbs, and his vision was incredibly blurry- where was he?

"Hold on Private, I...."

His vision faded to black once again, in the abyss there was no pain- only blackness.

The darkness was... absolute. Ren looked around, and it stretched in every direction. He didn't seem to be standing on anything, and couldn't tell if he was or wasn't moving forward. He felt nothing, no emotions, no pain, no fear. Only absolute peace, and before him a white light blinked into existence. He swam through the abyss towards it, not sure if he was getting closer or it was expanding. On the other side he could hear dim conversation.

"...fractured, it'll be..."

"...Cordrazine! Right now!"

"...Private, I owe you...."

"...no you don't understand, if we don't..."

"...proud of you.."

Before he could reach the light, he was pulled away by some unknown force. It faded, and faded, and then vanished. Blackness overtook him once again and he felt the cold sting of fear.

He gingerly opened his eyes, seeing the white tiles of a hospital ceiling. Nearby he could hear something beeping, it's sound seemed to cut into his head.

Sure to be extra gentle this time he lifted his head, and looked down on his body. Covered in bandages from neck down he was very thankful to at least note all his limbs appeared to be there. Around him a bouquet of flowers and a few cards were on the table beside him, while wires ran from his body to several different machines along the walls. Beside him a bag of unknown liquid connected into his arm, another ran from under the sheets.

Fear overtook him, and he let out a muffled scream. In full panic mode now he thrashed around, but all that did was send arcs of incredible pain through his limbs. The beeping machine increased in pitch, and he could dimly see a red light blink near the door. It became more difficult to keep his eyes open, taking incredible effort just to continue to be aware.

"...Call Colgate!" A voice shouted outside, and once again his vision faded- but not to the abyss. 

The next time he opened his eyes he was relieved to see a pleasant blue coated mare looking down at him.

"Private Excavo, my name is Doctor Colgate. Just relax, you're going to be fine. Relax," She reached over and pushed something, sending an arc of pleasure through the privates battered body. He sighed with delight.

"There, isn't that better?" She said, smiling.

Ren lifted his head, greatly pleased that it no longer seemed to hurt to do so, and noticed a few things. Most of the bandages had been removed, he was no longer connected to any machines, and instead a blanket covered him. The only thing connecting to his body were a few wires into his arms, and thanks to those drugs he didn't care much.

He also saw his squad, most of whom he had never bothered to learn the names of, standing beside his bed. At the end was the lieutenant.

"He's not a private anymore, the papers went through- Corporal Excavo. Even got you a purple heart." He smiled warmly at his comrade, and reached forward to put a medal on the table, the others raised a series of mugs.

"To Corporal Excavo!" They cheered.

Ren felt something, something that even his drug addled mind understood. For the first time in his life he felt a part of something. As a professor he had always competed with the others for grants and tenure, as a student with the others for grades. Now, he was a part of something greater then himself- he was a soldier in the legion.

"Ah, not like it matters eh?" The Lt said as he pulled a document from his uniform, "You're clear to go home, Ren Excavo. I know you wanted this, and who can blame you? I sent for an honorable discharge and you got it, you can go back to being a professor."

All the stallions in the room smiled at him.

"It's our gift, for saving us. We saved you- from us.!"

They laughed together, clanking mugs together.

"Give it here," Ren ordered. Lt. Flintlock handed the paper to Colgate, who passed it down to Ren.

"Honorable Discharge: Ren Excavo. As your conduct has been 'good' and..."

He tore it up, to a shocked gasp from the room. 

"I'm just getting started, why stop now?"

Another series of cheers, another swishing of cider. 

"Alright, you've all had your fun. It's time for the corporal here to get his rest," Colgate said, waving towards the door. 

The group ignored her, instead crowding around Ren.

"I said out!" she shouted. 

The squad all cringed with fear, and then the six of them quickly filled out with Colgate at their tail, shoving them out the door. Sheh slammed it shut and then turned back to her patient.

"That was a brave thing you just did, if the rest of the legion is as brave as you we'll be in Wing's Reach by Hearths Warming," She said, trotting over to his side.

"It'll be a few days before I can discharge you, you took a nasty beating," She said. "Skull fracture, major lacerations, two broken legs, a broken rib, detached retina. If it wasn't for magic you would be blind- or dead. You've actually been in Canterlot General for three weeks."

"Three weeks!? How's the..." he paused, the question was something he had never in his life expected to ask, "... war going?"

She shrugged. "I don't pay too much attention, I'm so busy tending to the injured here- y'know I used to be a dentist. Guess I'm helping people more now. Anyway, Everfree News should be on soon, so I'll leave the radio on for you," she replied, and reached behind the flowers (Ren suspected they were from his mother, whom he should probably call when he wasn't bedridden.) to turn on a radio.

"I'll leave you be, don't try to stand or anything. Not yet." Colgate said, gingerly opening the door. With a warm smile she left Ren alone in the room.

He sighed, and lay back in his bed to listen to the radio, nearly a month had gone by and it would be nice to catch up. 

"Everfree Radio News Update. Evening Edition, Fifth of September. Brought to you by Applebucks

The Wonderbolt Fleet reported another victory today, the third victory in as many days. The battle took place near Manehatten, and the city can once again sleep at ease knowing there won't be a repeat of Black Friday. The fleet seems to be using some new weapon that has sent the griffons running, but they're remaining mum on the details. Spitfire hasn't been seen in public since Fleet Day, but her personal aircraft has been seen making stops all over the country. The specifics remain, as always, classified.

The city remains closed off to travelers without reason, but it's expected this will be lifted soon.

Turning our attention to the ongoing liberation of Baltimare, more good news: The Legion reports that the last major neighborhood has been cleared, and they are now turning their attention to the outlying island. One final push is all it will take before we can declare the continent free of the griffon menace. General Masse has said the troops are feeling 'confident'. 

In national news, Princess Celestia has still refused to clarify her position on the draft, only saying that she has 'taken it into consideration'. What this means, remains up to debate. Princess Luna has been more open, saying that she would impose it herself, but remains adamant that 'where the sun shines, Celestia will decide'. 

More strict rationing measures are due to go in force next week, and while Celestia was clear to point out that while stocks remain high, but we should 'prepare for the worst'. Whether this is an indication that the rumored plan for a full-scale invasion of the griffon home islands is true, is not known.

The Crystal Empire reports that ammunition production is finally up to expected levels, troops in the field will be happy to hear the tradition of 'shoot, and then throw the gun at them', will soon be joke of the past. The caveat, however, is that firearms production is down nearly fifty percent. A spokespony for Field Martial Armour released a statement alongside this, mentioning that "a focus on elite sharpshooters; rather than giving every soldier a rifle, would be better in the long run." This reporter would like to point out that there wasn't supposed to be a 'long run'.

The Changelings have been remaining quiet. the border remains closed to civilian traffic, but properly identified refugees of Baltimare remain able to come and go. We've spoken with a few, and they simply describe the Hive as 'quiet'.

Reports of unidentified flying objects near the southwest border remain unconfirmed, Government sources refuse to comment, saying only that 'we cannot comment on something that doesn't exist." In this reporters opinion, it's aliens.

In less serious news, Princess Twilight has announced that she will be touring the front, bringing some needed cheer alongside Pinkie Pie. The troops call her 'the pink wonder', and for good reason. Ms. Pie has already done a few such tours by herself, stating simply 'beat 'em with smiles', when asked why she goes through such great effort to entertain the troops. This will be the first time Princess Twilight will have left Ponyville, having taken charge of the civil defense committee some weeks ago. When asked about this she said simply 'it's time to do my part'.

This has been the Everfree Evening Edition, I'm Hertz F.M, and I'll be, as always, watching the airwaves."

Well, they hadn't lost. That in itself was good news. Three whole weeks... He could end it now, go home, let them continue the war without him. 

What did he have to go home to? He had his research, his students, but all his life he had always striven to get more for himself. He never had any real good friends because he was too busy competing with everyone he knew, he only had acquaintances, and contacts. When he found himself in the legion he kept everypony else at arms distance, thinking he would find a way to get out and then just leave, going back to competing for tenure, money, and academic fame. One day he would become Dean, and then from there he would...

He wasn't sure actually. What would he do when he was on the top? Keep it? Nobody knew the current dean very well, he was a powerful stallion but kept everyone else at arms distance, always playing the game of politics. Was that really any sort of life?

His mother, and his late father, had always criticized him for this singular focus. He remembered his father, shortly before he passed, saying one thing in particular.

"School is where a stallion goes to grow up, it's time to grow up and do something real."

He was right, it was time to do something real. He went to sleep with a smile on his face, and a warmth in his heart. 

Not from the drugs either.

When he awoke, after what he imagined was a few hours- it was difficult to tell time, he spent a few minutes looking through the cards.

His sister set him a 'get well card' with a picture of a well on it.

The faculty had, all together, sent him a single card. The same card.

His mother had sent a hand drawn card of a bone underground, captioned 'don't become a fossil."

That's paleontology!

Nonetheless, the thought was nice and, opening it, there was a hand written note. 

"Proud of you, good to know you're doing your part. Love you forever, Mom."

He held it close to his heart when the door opened. Doctor Colgate walked in with a small cardboard box and set it on the table.

"Morning doc, what's with the box?" Ren asked.

"Afternoon, actually, and I hate to do this- but I gotta kick you out," She said, and a nurse rolled a wheelchair in.

"You've got two weeks of sick leave, and then they expect you back at the front soldier."

Ren was lifted out of the bed with a magic field, and deposited somewhat heavily into the chair.

"Careful with your right leg by the way, there's a bit of shrapnel we had to leave in. We'll get it out in a few months after you've recovered, but for now I suspect you'll be walking with a limp. Stick with the chair for a week, and then start working on those muscles," She said, tossing the stuff on the table in the box, and tossing that in turn on Ren's lap.

The nurse quickly wheeled him out, Ren glanced back down the hallway as Colgate left the room.

"Do I get any more of those drugs?" He asked.

"Toughen up, you're in the legion now!" She shouted down the hall at him. 

In the blink of an eye he found himself outside, with two weeks of leave ahead of him and a box full of belongings. A few cards, some wilting flowers, and a medal. He held it, and gazed at it while in the background the city of Canterlot went through it's daily business. Putting it back in the box he felt something was off, and slowly wheeled himself down the street, listening intently.

Silence.

Canterlot was never silent, this was the city where the crown made it's home, this was the city that ran the country, this was the very beating heart of Equestria. Only a few ponies were in the street, and they were scattered and silent. None of the usual street vendors, heralds, or assorted hawkers of wares could be seen. The advertisements that often plastered walls and street lamps had been replaced by propaganda- Celestia Wants You! The city felt less like a city, and more like a bunker. All the citizens cowering, waiting for the danger to pass. Most of the smaller businesses were shuttered too, probably a result of all those reservists going off to war. A dull clanging in the distance piqued his curiosity, and he increased his pace down the street to investigate.

Following the source of the noise he went past block, after block, after block. The noise growing ever louder as he did. Eventually he rounded the last of the buildings to see the walls of the city. With some difficulty he managed to get the chair to the top of the stairs (levitation really is the best form of magic), and stretched his neck over the walls he saw the valley below, Ponyville barely visible in the distance.

Clang


He swung his head to find the source of the noise- an enormous structure jutting out from the mountain, the innards of an airship visible in the early stages. It was larger then the most he had seen, but not as large as the Magnificent. Visible on the hull was a name in massive lettering, running the entire length.

Marauder

If he was judging right, which would be a small miracle in itself considering archeology has been his career; and he had blown off most of his fleet courses in training (He wasn't even going on the fleet, what did it matter?), then the huge hollow area with what a series of holes in it meant it was designed to drop something. Probably bombs, and hopefully on the griffons. What did they need this for, the war would surely be over as soon as they kicked the griffons off...

The crystal heart.

It dawned on Ren that they were going to be at this for a very, very, long time.

He leaned against the wall and watched the ship builders go their task, a cloud of pegasi hovering around the skeleton of the vessel as it was slowly constructed. The clanging noise came from a large crane dropping a weight down on rivets that were probably larger then himself. It was fascinating to watch, more steel then he had ever seen in his life was being put together in a vessel larger than any he had ever known of, less the Magnificent. Down below in the valley the train passed through the drydocks shadow, giving perspective on it. The train itself was in total only as long as the dock, it was truly a spectacular sight.

After a while of watching he decided on a course of action he had been milling in his head since waking up. He still had his job at the school, it was just on hold until his tour was up. That clause was one of the reasons he had been so easily swayed into registering as a reservist. He wheeled himself to the edge of the wall and then flung himself right off, levitating the chair into the air. Personal levitation was incredibly difficult because of the way magic worked. Your horn basically cancelled itself out- it was like trying to float water on water. If you had something to stand- or sit, on though...

Ren sped the chair through the streets, thrilled to feel the air through his mane. It was a difficult thing to do, but he was one of the best physical mages in the land, and he wondered why he never had this idea before. The few passerby in the streets looked up in astonishment at the hot pink glowing wheelchair bearing it's unicorn passenger through the air, banking around corners and shooting down the streets.

Perhaps, if some sort of rapid firing weapon was attached...

He abandoned that idea. Even if it was this was way too shaky to ever hit anything, and he didn't have very good aim either. Finding his destination he put the thought to rest, and lowered to a fast landing along the road leading to the school. The tires screeched as they set down and he almost flew forwards as the friction of the ground stopped his momentum. 

He wheeled himself over to the bridge that crossed a small decorative moat that surrounded the school. Like the city itself, it was quiet. Coming over he noticed that the courtyard which was normally full of gossiping students, relaxing lecturers, and summer romance- was silent. The only sound was the water running from the fountain below the statue that represented the known star system. The silence was deafening, and he picked up the pace to do what he had to and get out of there, speeding across the courtyard into the school proper.

He sighed and relaxed, relieved, as soon as he was inside. The scene in the school was just as it had always been. Students milled around, trying to look like they had a purpose while they looked desperately for an excuse to skip lectures. Professors milling around, trying to look like they had a purpose while they looked desperately for an excuse to delay marking. Custodians milling around, trying to look like they had a purpose while they looked desperately for an excuse to not be in the cafeteria- there was always one kid that threw up, every day. This was his school, or well it was.

"Hey prof! They let you off already? Kick you out for digging your head in the dirt?" Somepony sneered. Ren quickly turned himself around, and levitated his wheelchair to look down on the pony that had said that- Val Dictoria. She was his best student, and they had a mutual respect that would seem from the outside like a constant feud. 

"That's Corporal Excavo to you, Val. Say, how was the last broadcast of 'Adventures in Space'?" He asked, grinning manically down at her.

"I told you not to mention that!" She grumbled through gritted teeth.

"I don't know what you mean, Sergeant Excavo!" She shouted, glancing around.

She quickly ran off. Ren's ace in the hole had always been her adoration of that show, she had even written a paper about it for a equinology class. What she saw in it was beyond him, but to each their own. He was anxious to get his work done here and follow up on what he had seen three weeks ago, perhaps the changeling ambassador would authorize a dig, it would help with the sudden spare time he had.

His office was in the rear of the building, crammed into the corner. Since it had no windows, and was probably a janitorial closest at some point in the schools long and storied past, he barely spent any time there. This was to the everlasting complaint of his students, whom had better luck bumping into their professor in the street then finding him during office hours. On the door was a plaque, which he tore off before entering.

"Professor Ren Excavo, PhD, Head of Archeology."

Inside he found the room just as he had left it, with thin plastic covering everything. He threw off the covering on his desk, and picked up the phone. 

Half a minute later he put it down, frowning. Either his mother had moved out of their old home in Manehatten, or the phone lines were down. There were other possibilities, but Ren had learned not to dwell on the worst. Putting the plaque in his box, he took one last look at his office. Nothing special really, a few books and his desk. He never really settled in despite being here for nearly a decade, it was a simple case of always striving for more. Perhaps it was time to stick to something, maybe even settle down when the war was over.  Grabbing one last thing- his PhD certificate, he left for the last time.

It felt good

A few minutes of wheeling, taking in the sounds, sights, and smells of the school going about it's business for what he assumed would be the last time, he stopped before the Dean's office. 

Nobody actually knew his name, everypony just called him 'Dean'. He was an ancient stallion, as near as Ren could tell he had been serving at his post nearly as long as Celestia had reigned. Nobody knew what sort of powerful magic allowed him to live so long. Perhaps he had some deal with the Princess, perhaps he had some special spell. Whatever the case, it was a secret he guarded closely. Ren barely knew the man, none of the faculty really did. The only time anyone saw him outside of his office was if they were about to find themselves outside with their desk in a box. 

Ren kicked the door open and wheeled himself right on in, at the far corner of the room behind a great desk an ancient looking stallion yelped in surprise.

"Professor Excavo! What is the meaning of this, you have no appointment!" The dean exclaimed.

Ren breezed right up to the desk, and tossed his door plaque on it.

"I resign."

The Dean chuckled, as the plaque lifted in the air and was enveloped by a purple-green flame.

"I figured you couldn't cut it forever, go live out your life with the rest- blowing away like dust in the wind when it's done," The dean said.

Ren glared back at the man. "Or be like you, mired in eternity, caring for nothing but yourself? How old are you, Dean?"

"Older then you can imagine. Now you accuse me of caring for nothing? I have seen lived through worse times then these, and I have seen worse enemies then those we know now. Empires have risen and fallen- but one thing persists."

"And what's that?" Ren asked.

"Me." 

A green-purple field forced Ren out the door with a surprising amount of force, and before he could protest the doors to the room slammed shut. Ren spun himself around and quickly left that life behind him. A few blocks away was the Canterlot Castle, and he quickly wheeled through the silent streets to get there. Hopefully the Ambassador would be sober, if Equestria Daily was anything to go by that was a rare thing indeed.

The castle guards let him through easily enough, he still had that box with him and simply flashed his shiny new medal to anypony that asked him his business. They probably assumed he was taking his sick leave to explore the castle, and left it at that. Asking around he had found out that the ambassadors office was on the second floor, and as he approached the sound of a lyre softly filled the hallway. Outside a changeling stood at attention, heavily armoured with an intimidating pike at his side. It was probably a good idea to have an appointment, but it was too late for that now.

Stopping beside the doorway Ren felt the glare of the guard on him.

"I'd like to uhh, see the Ambassador?" He asked awkwardly, the guard didn't reply- it just continued staring.

"Well the doors open isn't it!" Somepony shouted inside. Relieved, Ren rolled himself right on in.

"Nice box," A green mare commented. She sat at a desk, strumming at a lyre. Directed ahead the Ambassador sat behind his own, which he noted was quite a work of art.

"Don't mind Gamma out there, he's just doing his job." He pushed aside some papers on his desk and gestured in front of it.

"What can I do for you, friend?" he asked.

Ren felt oddly at home, and wheeled himself right up to the desk.

"Well, Ambassador, a few weeks ago I was out in the field- near the changeling hive, and I found something you might want to follow up on," Ren said.

"Oh did you?" The Ambassador asked, putting a hoof to his chin.

"Yes, I think we uncovered part of an old structure, long since buried. It appeared made of the same dark stone that the changelings have used for centuries,"

The ambassador sat back in his chair, and spun it to look out the window.

"Where was this?" he asked.

"About ten miles north of the Hive," Ren replied.

"And you think we built this, despite the fact that the hive has never expanded from it's current location- as far as I know anyway."

"That's correct, and with your permission I would like to organize a dig."

The ambassador spun back around, grinning.

"That's a fantastic idea, I haven't gotten out of this office in weeks and that would make a fine excuse, I'll arrange for a legion escort and we'll set out tomorrow," He said.

	That was surprisingly easy. 

"Wait a second, a legion escort? Shouldn't you have your own people on this?" Ren asked.

"What's your name, mysterious stranger?"

Ren was embarrassed to realize he hadn't introduced himself. "Ren Excavo," He replied.

"Well, Ren, you can call me Wildcard. If we're going to be working together I need to make one thing absolutely clear- never think about anything I do too much, it's dangerous to your health," He said, in a much lower voice than earlier.

Ren wasn't sure to take it as a threat, or what exactly the Ambassador was getting at. Still, he was the one that could get him into changeling territory without trouble, so he would have to run with it.

"Alright, Wildcard, consider it done. You're in charge." Ren said.

Wildcard rubbed his hooves together, and picked up his phone. "Excellent, meet me here at oh... 8AM sounds good, we'll set off  for this site and see what you found," 

Ren nodded and wheeled himself around. Leaving into the hallway with the sweet sound of a lyre behind him. 

To burn off the time before the evening he got some food, finding that apparently in his time in the hospital rationing had been put into effect, and while he was able to get enough to feed himself comfortably, it was a bad omen. The first place he had checked had provided him with a 'ration book' and registered him, explaining that if stocks ran low they would only have enough for registered customers. For now, thankfully, stocks were fine. His purple heart won him an extra apple. He also grabbed a newspaper, reading it would help pass the time.

He ate on the castle wall, watching the ship continued to be constructed. Down below the unceasing clanking continued into the evening, the buzzing of pegasi unceasing in their work. He noticed that there was actually a second, smaller, ship being constructed behind the larger one, almost impossible to see unless the light was just right. 

Three weeks, he had spent three weeks out. In that time everything had changed. When he set out that day Canterlot had been as busy as ever, rationing was an idea that only existed as historical fact, and the consensus was the war would be won by the end of the week- since when did any of our problems last longer than a day, or a few days, tops? But here they were, three weeks into it and they hadn't even taken back Baltimare. Down below the evidence that this was more then a crisis, but instead an enter chapter in Equestria's history was being put together. The griffons had taken the crystal heart, and if their current ferocity was any indication it would take an invasion of the griffon home islands to get it back. Nopony knew why they had taken it, but it didn't matter anyway. They had, and that was enough.

Taking the paper out of the box once he had finished eating the first thing that hit him was the cover- The shaky picture of a ship going down in flames. The title was a relief- 'Wonderbolts Victorious: Manehatten Safe Another Day', but there was a small article below it that sunk his heart.

"Todays Fleet Losses: H.M.S Salvo, lost with all hands. H.M.S Ironside, lost with all hands. H.M.S Fargo, lost with all hands. For names of crew, and further legion losses, turn to page 7."

Turning to page seven he memorized all thirty six names. Thirty six that had gone to their graves defending the country. His sadness turned to anger, and he looked towards the coast with a fire in his eyes. 

The griffons will pay.

He went to the barracks next, stuffing his meager belongings into his locker. His PhD certificate he taped to the inside. Except for a skeleton crew the barracks was more or less abandoned, and his squad was nowhere to be seen- probably on deployment somewhere. His home had been repossessed by the state for construction of a new defensive perimeter, so he had simply sold all of his possessions since this came on the same day he received his deployment orders. He had quite of lot of bits in the bank due to this, but nothing to spend them on. Parking his wheelchair before a bunk he lay himself down, with a significant amount of effort from his wobbly limbs, and went to sleep thinking on what he would do after the war. Full time academia was too demanding if he wanted to settle down, but perhaps he could teach at a lower levels, at a town school or something. There was a cute mare in Ponyville he met when he was doing some fieldwork in the Everfree....

He got up bright and early the next morning, taking a quick spin around town before coming to the Changeling Ambassadors office at 8AM, just like he had asked. Inside a group of four soldiers, in green armour, chatted amongst themselves while the ambassador sat at his desk. His secretary was nowhere to be seen. 

"Good, you're here!" The ambassador said, the soldiers all came to attention as he strode to the head of them.

"Centurions, this is Ren Excavo. He'll be leading us to the location, and you're going to make sure nothing touches us, got it?"

"Yes sir!" They replied. Ren was fascinated by the fact that the Changeling Ambassador was apparently commanding elite Equestrian troops.

"Alright then, let's get on that train and get moving. I'm rather anxious to see what you've got." He said, and pointed at Ren.

"Lead on," he ordered. Ren did as asked and spun around, leading the group down the hall. Wildcard came to his side with an almost total silence, startling Ren when he spoke.

"General owed me one, don't make me have used that favour needlessly," he threatened.

Ren swallowed, this was getting to be more than he bargained for.

Once on the train, specifically the rear car, the Ambassador sat beside him and asked for specifics about their mission that day, and what he had been doing since. Ren hesitated at first, but if the General trusted him enough to send a squad of centurions out under his command, then it probably didn't matter if anything he had to say was classified or not. The Ambassador seemed to have a strange relationship with the upper workings of Equestrian government, mentioning Celestia several times during his questioning. Ren remembered his early threat and didn't ask anything in return. 

"So this ship you found, the Night Guard took it?" The ambassador asked.

"Yes, they did. It almost started a fight, just like..." The ambassador interrupted him.

"A thousand odd years ago, interesting," Wildcard replied.

Suddenly he grabbed Ren and drew himself in close, staring intensely into his eyes.

"Ren. I need to make this perfectly clear. Nothing we discuss, and nothing you see today, can ever be known by anybody else. Do you understand?"

Ren swallowed. "I do, definitely, for sure."

Wildcard released him, and he quickly turned away.

"Good, there's factors at work you can't possibly begin to understand, so don't..."

"Who are you?!" Ren exclaimed, this was proving all too much for him to take.

Wildcard laughed, patting him on the back. "The only one you can trust, I'm quite thankful you came to me with this information and not my anybody else." 

The rest of the ride went by in an awkward silence. Ren couldn't help but think about what the Ambassador had said, just what exactly was going on around here? The answers would have to wait, the train stopped at the border as it had since the war started, changeling customs would check it thoroughly.

"This is our stop, let's get a move on," Wildcard ordered. The centurions all quickly filed out the back door, followed by him with Ren at the rear. 

"Two miles south right? We better get a move on then," Wildcard said. Their journey began.

The hike went much faster then it had three weeks ago. For one thing the centurions moved at a much faster pace, and adding to this was the fact they only had a firearm each, instead of the heavier crossbows or pikes the squad had gone in with. A small satchel was all the supplies each had needed to bring. The path his squad had carved in the jungle remained, giving them a clear path forwards. They moved with the grace of elite soldiers, taking a circle around the two unarmed members of the group. They constantly glanced around and sent wordless signals to each other as the group made their way forwards. By the time they neared the site of the crashed ship Ren was exhausted, even with magic propelling his chair forwards it had still been hours of pushing it. 

"This is it, just past the trees ahead," Ren said. 

"Good, mark it." Wildcard ordered one of the centurions. He nodded and took a map and compass out of his satchel, quickly circling an area on it. Wildcard grabbed the map and stuffed it in his satchel.

They entered the field and in the centre stood the dark rock outcropping, just as Ren had seen before. Wildcard ran up to it while the centurions scanned the edges of the clearing. 

"Incredible, it really is hivestone!" He exclaimed, and then turned to Ren.

"Now, you're a unicorn right? Since you didn't bring a shovel I'm assuming..."

Ren grinned, it was finally time for him to prove his worth to this expedition, and maybe impress those elite soldiers in the process.

"Stand out of the clearing and let me do my thing. "He said, Wildcard gestured to the centurions and they lined up behind him.

The ground shimmered as a pink field came over, and then slowly descended into the ground. The idea was simple- dirt was much less dense than stone, so find the less dense matter and levitate it out, leaving the denser material behind. He had done this dozens of times in the past, becoming quite expert at it. After a few moments of concentration a few thousand tonnes of dirt lifted into the air, followed by gasps of awe behind Ren. It floated a few hundred meters away and then he dropped it, crushing everything under it and shaking the ground. Ren turned to see the other five with their mouths agape.

"That was impressive, I'll give you that." Wildcard said, and pushed past him, jumping fluttering his wings down into the pit.

"It's huge!" He shouted, it echoed through. Ren turned back and his own jaw fell agape- it really was huge.

A gigantic stone structure stood from the floor, which was a dozen meters deep. A stairway ran the circumference, so clearly this was purposely dug into the ground at some point, and had been filled in on purpose. Before the structure a few dozen smaller stones jutted up from the ground, segregated into three lines that ran nearly to the edge. Ren slowly walked down the staircase, the soldiers stayed up top and took positions around. As he walked down he was able to get a better look of the place, noticing that a large statue of someone, whom looked like a changeling except moderately more muscular, stood out from above a gaping doorway in the larger structure.

"So what do you think this place is!" Wildcard shouted, standing in the middle and glancing around.

"I think... I think it's a cemetery," Ren replied.

"That doesn't make any sense, we cremate our dead." Wildcard replied, he stood before one of the stone outcroppings, and then dashed to another.

"Hold on a second! I think you're right!" He exclaimed, dashing quickly back and forth through them. 

Ren came to the bottom, and approached one. They each seemed to have an engraving on them, he dusted it off and read it, surprised to see it was in Old Equestrian- why would the changelings be engraving tombstones with a dead equestrian language?

"Fifth-Sixth. First known as Flint. Lost to us March 7th of the second year of our exile. May he know a greater light."

Exile? 'First known'? There was something fishy about all this. 

Wildcard tapped him on the shoulder, almost startling him to death.

"Remember what I said on the train? Nothing you see here leaves here." He said.

"But Ambassador! There's so many questions that this raises. Why would your people be using Old Equestrian? Why these strange names? What 'exile'? This place could some evidence for the origins of your people!" Ren argued

"Exactly, which is why this must remain a secret for the time being. This place isn't yours, and if you can't handle that you can go home, you've already fulfilled your duty here," Wildcard said.

"I'm an archeologist, my duty is to find the truth!"

"You're a soldier, your duty is to follow orders!" Wildcard snapped.

Ren was about to continue arguing, but the ambassador shot up a hoof and sniffed the air.

"Pack it up colts, everything you saw here is classified top level, take our friend here home!" Wildcard shouted up at the centurions.

They dashed down and surrounded Ren in the blink of an eye, one of them put a hoof on his shoulder. 

"What are you trying to hide, Ambassador?" Ren demanded.

"It's not what I'm hiding, but who I'm hiding it from that's important. Now get out of here!" He yelled. The soldiers pulled Ren back up the stairs, he glanced back to see the ambassador pacing amongst the stones before they disappeared back into the forest. 

Wildcard remained, alone, in that hole. If the Equestrians discovered this place existed it would prove to them that the changelings were once their kin, and there were so many ways that information could be taken. If it were to get out now, while Equestria was already facing external problems, it could lead to disaster. That was less important then what the Hive might do, the power structure relied on an understanding that there were different than the ponies, and that the caste structure was something that had existed forever. If the warriors found out there was no actual difference between them or the leaders- or even the queen- it would cause a second disaster.

This cemetery highlighted something else though, which made the trip worth it. Three grave sites which apparently marked the first people that had gone over alongside Crystal Star, along with their descendents. If he was correct in his translation then each section aligned with one of the castes, but they were equal in size. The Hive now was nearly 70% workers, they all had the minds of children and could barely see, being only useful for manual labour. This was a genetic thing, and if it wasn't always this way then there were vast implications for the future of the hive if things continued the way they did. 

He sniffed the air, the telltale pheromones of a changeling on it. Whoever was coming was coming fast, but he had a minute before they were here. Looking up at the larger building he trotted towards it. If these were the graves of the original exiles, then that must be the tomb of Crystal Star's mate. 

Standing outside the dark mouth of the building he found an inscription. As he began to read it a crossbow bolt slammed into it and ricocheted barely past his head, he stumbled back startled. When he looked back his heart sunk into his stomach, two griffons hovered over the hole with weapons pointed town at him.

Wildcard readied himself for the end, finding it oddly fitting he should die surrounded by his ancestors. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

The sound of familiar manic laughter filled the hole and he opened his eyes, seeing a pompous looking stallion riding a chariot behind the two griffons. He looked down on Wildcard with a smirk. 

If Pretense was here, how did he get past the changeling patrols? More then that, which one of them was the changeling he had detected? The smell of changeling pheromone was one of few things that set ponies and changelings apart, and it was as clear as day to them when a changeling was around. The only problem was it was difficult to ascertain who it was coming from without getting closer.

"Pretense? What the buck are you doing here? Don't you have some children to steal candy from?!" Wildcard shouted at at him.

He was met with laughter as the pony gestured the ground, his bodyguards taking the chariot in to land in the centre of the opening in the ground.

"Oh Wildcard, you really are stupid aren't you? You haven't figured it out, it's a shame really." He said, and hopped out of the chariot. Wildcard regretted not coming armed, and he regretted putting his faith in changeling border patrols even more.

"Figured what out?" Wildcard asked. 

Pretense grinned and approached, his four henchmen at his side. He gestured at Wildcard and two ran up to him, grabbing him by his arms. The scent grew stronger, clearly it was one of the four.

"If you're here to kill me just get on with it already you coward," Wildcard spat.

"Oh poor misguided Wildcard, you're worth so much more to me alive!" Pretense said, coming before him.

"You call me misguided while you literally commit treason, cute."

"Oh no, I'm not the one working against his own people. You're foolish and incompetent work as 'ambassador' has made my plans so much easier. I really should thank you.. Eta-Delta," Pretense said.

"You haven't figured out which one of us it is, have you?" He sneered.

"Which one of you is what, what are you talking about? Have you finally gone totally insane?"

Wildcard received a smack on the back of his head for that remark, Pretense snorting as he did.

"You really are stupid," he said, and began to shimmer green.

"It's me!" He shouted, now the familiar image of a changeling leader, with eyes of blue and a dark body filled with holes.

"Zeta?!" Wildcard exclaimed, flabbergasted.

"Now you're getting it!" Zeta shouted, pinching Wildcards cheek as he did. "You're adorable when you finally figure things out, it's too bad you're an idiot."

Wildcard glanced at the bodyguards, surprised that they didn't seem to care about this.

"You're the idiot here, don't you know we're at war?"

Zeta laughed, and so did the griffons. 

"No, you're at war. These fine griffons simply follow the money, and after disposing of that waste of skin Pretense I have quite a lot of it. Enough to have my own private army, enough to save the hive from this idiotic path you've decided we tread. Tell me, Wildcard, do you know what's in this tomb?"

"Yes," Wildcard lied.

Zeta pushed him to the side and lit his horn, outlining the inside of the structure. It was a large room with a central coffin, beside it a few vases and some trinkets made of gold. Probably worth quite a lot.

"Don't take me for a fool, I know you don't. I do," Zeta said, and trotted over to the coffin.

"And you know what? I don't think I'm going to tell you," He added, and clacked his hooves before pointing at Wildcard.

With a great thud his vision faded to darkness.

When he awoke he found himself on cold sand, the moon just barely over the horizon. He sat up and rubbed his aching head. A ways ahead the lights of a small town were dimly visible. Wildcards first thought was to contact the guard, but the less people that knew about what had happened the better. Buzzing his wings he headed for the town, probably Appleloosa. From there he could take the night train home.

Being ambassador was supposed to be simple. Since when did the job description include balancing the demands of your home country with what you knew to be right, all the while getting sucked into internal bickering and having to fight a war? Ambassadors didn't generally secretly take a squad of elite soldiers to uncover secrets of vast implication, and then get beaten up by traitors and dumped in a field. 

Next time he would be armed, and only one of them would leave. Before that however he would have to have a word with his queen, alone.

	

	
	

	

	
	

	
> Background: My Discontent
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

	CLASSIFIED: ABOVE TOP SECRET

Contained herein is a manifesto found in the basement of a small time publisher in Manehatten. The building was raided as part of an investigation into probable counterfeit bank notes, and the pony in charge was never caught. Found in the basement, along with three hundred thousand bits in counterfeit notes and the machines to produce them, was this. It's authenticity could not be determined, and it's suspected that many copies could have been made. However, we have, thus far, found none except the original. The implications if this were to spread, assuming citizens believe it, are huge. All efforts must be undertaken to track down and destroy any copies. 

-Archer, Night Guard Intelligence.


My Discontent: Samuel Pretense 

If you are reading this, then I have already met my doom. Whether it was at the hands of the great shapeshifting evil we now call an 'ally'; or at the hands of the great tyrant Celestia, or at the hands of her thugs- will be known by the reader. Whatever the case, I have written this so that my story may be told, and that I may fan the flames that will one day cleanse this land of the evils that inhabit it. Equestria will burn, and if you heed my words you may stand on it's ashes to build a greater nation, a nation of takers instead of givers. 

My name is Samuel Pretense. I had styled myself as 'Mr. Pretense" since I had come of age. I ran the mint, in Vanhoover. The mint was originally, and still was even if in it's double role, a private bank that my family had owned for generations. My ancestors made their fortune smithing gold, and used the profits to found a bank in Baltimare. It was that history that led the Crown to commission them as the Royal Mint. This meant that I, and my family, had double duty as both civil servants and private business people. A curious arrangement, but for the longest time it served both ourselves and the Crown well enough. They got their currency minted, and re-minted, cheaply. We worked an arrangement to pay no tax, and became part of the royal court. Recently, however, this changed. The Crown saw fit to impose a tax, of five percent, to all profits generated by private banks across the nation. Ostensibly this was to fund the Crystal Empire and get it up to modern standards, but I saw through this ruse- Celestia was merely proving whom was really in charge. The rest of them, those cowards, bowed low and accepted this tax. 

Tell me, what should a stallion such as myself owe to a government that has given him nothing? 

The answer is nothing. The Government of Equestria is nothing but a sham, extending it's tentacle like influence into the realm of private citizens in the name of 'progress' and 'justice'. The medical system of Equestria alone accounts for nearly ten million bits of tax dollars per year. Tell me, could an enterprising pony not turn this into a profitable business? What about the postal service, education, the rail line? The Government controls all of these, private competitors are illegal. 

Some of you might say that the government has a need to provide for it's citizens. They are wrong, the citizens have a need to provide for themselves. If they cannot work hard enough to compete in an open market, then they will die as they are not fit to live. The Griffons know this, which is why they are superior. While our government 'nationalizes' and takes out huge loans to pursue this idiotic war, the griffon High Martial rules through the force of a mighty iron claw, taking what he wants from whom he wants. Those that refuse to get in line, die. The griffons pay no tax, they fund themselves through spoils and plunder. The houses that are unable to do so, perish. Those that can, rise to the top. Survival and elevation of the fittest at it's finest.

I have seen, spoken, and spent time with the High Martial of the Griffons. At first it was at my own peril, having been captured by them some months before Equestria even know of the person. Through him I saw the light, and turned my cowardly fear of the alicorn oligarchy into a fiery anger. I made it my mission that they would be cast down, and in death I may do more for that cause than I ever could have in life. 

I imagine some of you reading this might be put off now, at the mention of our 'enemies' the Griffons. I say to you that the Griffons are not our enemies, they are our allies. They too see the injustice in the oligarchy of the alicorns- need I mention that Equestria has never had a vote? We should be running to them with open arms, as they will free youfrom the alicorn oppressors, liberating you to become the people you could be. 

Meanwhile, while we fight our friends- we extend an open hoof to our real enemies. The Changelings are a pack of ravenous, shapeshifting, lying, beasts. That Celestia has signed a 'treaty of friendship' with them is the most heinous sign of her crimes against the ponies of Equestria. To be quite honest I suspect she herself has been replaced, but she has been so cowardly in the past that it's quite possible she really is this stupid. Fight the changelings, openly, constantly. They are our true enemy here, and if a single life is lost defending them I would accuse Princess Celestia of treason. They seek to steal our very life force, and will stop at nothing to get it. We must destroy them with all of our force. If you wonder why I hate them so, ask Celestia. Have her explain to you the events of thirty years ago, and have her explain to you why she had covered this up, lied to her own people, and refused to do anything about it. I will never get my son back, but you can prevent it from ever happening again by crushing the hive and driving those creatures back into myth.

Princess Twilight Sparkle. Princess Mi Amore Cadenza. Who are these people? As near as I can tell the first is merely a talented student of the magical arts, and the second doesn't appear to have done anything of major import before the invasion of Canterlot. So, why then, are they raised superior to the average pony? Why then, do they get a vote on important issues- while the mayor of a city does not? This is yet another example of the alicorn oligarchy rearing it's ugly head and dominating everything. Raising the sun or the moon is respectable in it's own way, but what have these two done to earn even a modicum of respect? Drive them out first, they are the weakest. Their fall will herald a new beginning of equality for all. All will fall or rise on their own merits, not the will of immortals.

With regards to the alicorn oligarchy, be mindful of the past. They took command of the nation not because of a vote, by justice, or by force- they took command because nobody else would. For a time, this was just. For a time. Now, there are others that would lead by justice, and certainly others by force. The alicorns are just as weak as the rest of us were it not for their magic, but they are far too cowardly to use it to full effect. They oppress us by leading us forever, never allowing us to taste the sting of defeat or the thrill of victory. A stagnant future with no risk or reward is no life, it's merely going through the motions of living. 

To defeat oppressors do not strike at them openly, they expect this and will simply brand you as 'evil', and serve out 'justice'. Strike at the industries, burn the crops, attack the population. Revolt, riot, and protest. Use the freedom of speech and press against them, force them against the wall. They are cowards, and will not do anything they see as 'evil' to stop you. They will quit long before doing anything that would earn them the right to rule, and so their power should be taken from them. If they do fight, and we are defeated, then I lay defeated knowing I still improved the world, for a powerful leader that is willing to do what they must is worth of my respect. Celestia is not this ruler, nor her sister, nor the rest of them.

To live without risk of death is to not live at all. 

Overthrow the alicorn oligarchy, and live

Furthermore, I am offering through an agent in the field the price of 100,000 bits to the first pony, griffon, or even treacherous changeling to put an end to [REDACTED], and [REDACTED]. See it done.
> Intermission: Ponderings of a Night Princess
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------




 Princess Luna clearly enjoys power, and she means to do well with it. My greatest fear is that she will inevitably do something for the betterment of our nation that riles up the populace so vigorously, say a new tax levied, that they rise up against her. Princess Luna is not to be taken lightly, and she is quite probable to take such anger as a personal slight. What could follow is a spiraling descent into chaos as she and her fanatic "Night Guard" try to "contain the disturbance". 
Princess Celestia, when and if this time comes- do what is necessary. Do not hold back, for I know one thing for certain above all else.
She won't. 


Star Swirl the Bearded, 400 After Harmony. (Three weeks before 'The Lunar Treason')


Princess of the Night. This was more than Princess Luna's title, this was her very identity. She wore the dark, used it, controlled it. The dark was not her friend, it was her servant. She and the bat ponies shared these ideals, and ever since freeing them so many thousands of years ago they had followed her with a fanatic devotion. Prior to her exile they had unquestionably followed her even when the loyalty of the average Equestrian subject began to waver under her attempt to take the reigns of power from her sister, using her nominally equal status to pass laws to strengthen the nation. The bats had even fought for her, and were it not for the elements of harmony, Equestria would not have a Princess- it would have a Queen. Even during her lengthy exile they had kept watch over the night, and patiently awaited her return. When she did their leader for an entire generation immediately and unquestionably ceded power, something no other race could understand. 

Princess Luna and the Night Guard had long since protected Equestria from the things the average citizen, and her own sister, would rather not admit existed. Dragons found themselves at the end of a hundred pikes, other terrifying monsters at the ends of more powerful weapons, and even the occasional raid by the independent states was quickly routed. They kept a watch on everything, and more often than not struck long before a problem was obvious. All the people would hear was rumors of a dragon migration, or a group of bandits, and that was that. The bats paid a heavy price for their constant vigilance, but they knew their task was a righteous one, and would keep it to the last. 

When the war started they protested loudly about the 'loss' of the H.M.S Magnificent to the Wonderbolts. In their eyes, they were the rightful owners of it, and it was they who should be running the war. It took some time, but they begrudging accepted Luna's wisdom that the Equestrians needed to learn to fight for themselves, for the Night Guard was nowhere near large enough to fight an entire war on their own. The Wonderbolts would make mistakes, grave mistakes, mistakes that the Night Guard could possibly have averted- but it was part of the process. They would teach, but they could not lead. 

The Night Guard was not without it's own weaponry though, and Princess Luna was in the great armory inside the mountain behind Canterlot on this night, inspecting the wares. Beside her was the largest bat pony she had ever seen, his armour seemed like a second skin when on anypony else it would weigh them down. His name was Blackpowder, and he had been working on new weaponry designs for quite some time, although most had been kept in secret until the war. Now were they able to be mass produced, but first the designs needed to be perfected. The war was still less then a week in, and transitioning a nation that had known peace for millennia into an industrialized military power was going to be painful.

He gestured to a weapon lying on a workbench, surrounded by tools. It was a large barrel elevated by a metal scaffold on an armoured saddle, with holes in the sides assumedly for feeding ammunition.

"Twenty millimeter calibre, paired with a box of ammunition on either side. Three hundred rounds, with spent rounds ejecting through the back. It can feed high explosive, or armour piercing. Not even the armour of the griffons will stand a chance against this beauty," He said, clearly proud of his work. Luna levitated one before her and inspected it.

"Three hundred rounds, how fast does it fire?" She asked.

"I've been able to get a hundred twenty shots per minute, the problem is the material in the barrel overheats and melts if I push past that," He replied.

"The average time of engagement so far as been around five minutes, and only a tiny percentage of that does anypony get a shot off. Increase the calibre to thirty millimetres, and add a second barrel. Rapid, controlled, bursts will allow for maximum effectiveness," She said. Blackpowder nodded.

Luna put the machine on her back, and ducked her horn forward to allow it to go over her head.

"If anypony fires this as is, they will be deafened. I understand the accuracy of having the barrel over the head, but for practical reasons you will have to move the barrels to either side of the body. Put the ammunition on the back," Luna said, he nodded again.

"Wise as always, Highness," He said, and as Luna lay it back on the table he started to dismantle it.

"It's a good design Blackpowder, and there's potential in this idea. I want you to create a smaller version for use on the ground against unarmoured targets. Use a 5 millimeter calibre or so, with a focus on extreme high rates of fire. I feel the south might require an intervention by the Legion, and I want them to have an edge right out of the gate,"

He nodded again, and with a heavy clank the barrel came loose from the rest of the machine. 

"I could use a rotating series of smaller barrels, it would require power however, and I don't think we have the technology anything that small," He noted.

"Magic, a unicorn could power it. Get to work on this, and have at least a dozen made by the end of next week, along with a few thousand rounds. This takes priority- we've been doing well enough in the skies lately," She ordered.

"It will be done," Blackpowder replied, and Luna turned to leave.

She strode through the aisles of prototype weapons, most of which has a very obscure of niche use that required they keep one, or two, but not useful enough to produce en masse. Crossbows that fired a steel net, very useful if you wanted to capture something you didn't want to, or couldn't, touch. An enormous cannon lay across the entire room, separated into pieces. In it's day it had lobbed shells against pirates. A dozen long pikes, which had felled just as many dragons. There was even an enchanted sword, it's secret long since forgotten, that was used if the undead ever threatened Equestria. They tended to every October, more or less, for whatever reason. In this room you could find something to kill just about anything. 

The Guard was in the process of slowly cleaning out and archiving most of the ancient weapons, and it would soon become the centre of a massive research and development program. Today she had ordered Night Guard reclaim a few of those missiles the griffons used to such effect, and they would work hard to reverse engineer them. Finding out that they worked by sensing heat was a breakthrough that had saved dozens of ships so far, simply by attaching fireworks to the rear that could be launched when a missile was spotted. Half the time the missile would go for the fireworks, and then either detonate or get flung so far off course it would run out of fuel. 

Somehow the Griffons had gotten ahead of Equestria technologically, but the work that would be done here will hopefully close that gap. Perhaps they could even find a way to use that ore, the ore that powered the Magnificent, as a weapon. The math was simple enough: a mere kilogram of it produced enough energy to power the ship for a year, or destroy a city. As of yet however, they had no idea how to coax the pseudo-magical energy out all at once, it simply dissipated slowly as soon as it was activated. Alicornium it was called, and as near as anypony could tell the only place it could be mined was in the Crystal Empire. The Crystal Heart was made entirely of it. 

The question of just what the griffons wanted to do with the heart was a perpetual quandary, and as of yet there was no answer. The war didn't seem to make sense in other ways too: there was nothing for the Griffons to gain. There was the idea of simple imperial conquest, but that didn't seem to make sense, the griffons had no claim on Equestrian land, and had never made threats before. There was no resource shortage, and there had never been any major disputes between the two nations, the griffons had just suddenly decided to attack. Their strategy was strange too, they occupied only one city, and never tried to secure any more ground. All of these questions worried Luna, the worst enemy was one with an unclear plan. Everybody had a plan, and if you didn't know what the plan was you were liable to end up being a few steps behind when you did.

If you did, if you were that far behind it was likely you would only figure the plan out after it was completed, or never at all.

There were other problems too, such as the mystery of unknown flying craft being spotted in the south desert, the abductions of griffon citizens (Which had been covered up by the Night Guard so as to not allow any sort of civil problems within the griffon population of Equestria, which was thus far remaining neutral.), and the naivete of Celestia that would drag the war out endlessly. Luna had learned long ago not to the seize the reigns of the state herself, even if successful a coup would only destroy the nation. No, she would just have to wait until the other leaders decided to vote for a Queen Regent, something Luna would be careful not to call for herself. Once that happened she could run this war properly. She would do what she had to and save not only Equestria from war, but her sister. The griffons would face not Princess Celestia, nor Princess Luna, but they would face the wrath of Nightmare Moon, and they would know woe. 

With a wide grin on her face as she thought of bringing the power she had tempered for so long to the enemies of Equestria, she left the fortress-like armory into the vast cavern of the inner mountain. Thousands of years ago when Canterlot was being constructed the princesses were incredibly surprised to find the bat ponies down here, living under the harsh rule of a malevolent dictator. Luna overthrew him immediately, while Celestia wanted to consider 'negotiating'. What he did to the Crystal Empire aside, Luna never regretted freeing the bat ponies from his terrible reign, and ever since they had been ferociously loyal to her. Besides, he met his end eventually, at the hands of Princess Twilight Sparkle, then still a private citizen. 

Princess Luna had seen time after time proteges of her sister either fail, or be corrupted. Twilight Sparkle was the first to really succeed, and when she had saved the Crystal Empire, Luna knew that there would be another Princess. It was too bad that she was thrown into a war before she could even get her bearings on being a ruler, and only time would tell if she was up to the task. Luna saw only two ways her future could go; she would either succumb to pressure, or she would prove her right to rule by fire. Since she had actually defied her former mentor by voting for the war, Luna was confident she would succeed at this as she always has. Thus far her signature accomplishment was the creation of a 'Civil Defence Committee', and her efforts would go a long way to protecting civilians. It was something neither of the princesses had thought of- Celestia cringed at the very thought of continued warfare, and Luna admittedly always thought on the offensive. Princess Twilight was a sort of middle ground between the two, her name described it perfectly. 

Luna felt something approach, the tiny vibrations in the wind heralded her second in command, silently flying towards her from some distance above and behind. For a little over a year she had been trying to get the drop on her superior. She never succeeded.

"Mezza Luna," Luna addressed, not looking back.

Luna heard a soft groan on the wind, and managed to suppress a grin.

"Yes, your Highness, I have some news to deliver," Mezza Luna said, landing behind. Her name literally meant half moon, it was a name passed down by generations of leaders that had occupied Luna's role for a thousand years.

"What is it?" Luna asked as she came to her side.

"We've managed to secure those missiles, a Legionnaire was injured in the process, but he'll be fine," She replied.

"Good, get to work on it right away, the Wonderbolts could use their own missiles. I imagine Air Martial Spitfire will be quite pleased," Luna said.

"We're just going to give them to the Wonderbolts? What about our own forces?" Mezza Luna asked.

Luna nodded. "Yes, we have no need of anti-ship weapons at the moment, the Wonderbolts will get first priority when we've reverse engineered this weapon. Our focus will be to continue to harass the griffons, and allow them no rest. You know as well as I we can't fight them in the open, we lack the numbers," she said.

"What we lack in numbers we make up with training, one of u-" 

Luna stopped her with a hoof on her chest. "One of you is equal to one of them, it only takes one burst from those fire guns to kill, and we won't have our own firearms for some time yet. Don't make the mistake of underestimating our enemy, they spend their lives studying the martial arts just as you do," She said.

Mezza glanced at her, and then glanced away. "Wise as always, your Highness," She said. Luna sensed she wasn't entirely convinced- a foal could tell it was so obvious. 

"You're dissatisfied with your role in the war, I understand that. It's natural to want to find glory in ones life, but let me warn you right now," Luna pulled her face to gaze into her eyes, "Do not make the mistake of seeking personal glory over the needs of the whole," She growled.

"I won't," Mezza Luna replied. Luna released her.

"I also have some news from the south, the griffons appear to be trying to ally with a city state called 'Snowy Cove'. I suggest we utilize Agent Orange," Mezza Luna suggested.

"Perhaps, has he continued his relationship with Princess Celestia's assistant?" Luna asked.

Mezza Luna snickered. "Oh, he has all right. He's gotten her pregnant," She replied.

"Good, we've got him then. He'll do anything to protect his love. Collect what material we need, and I'll talk to him as soon as we're ready," Luna ordered. Her second nodded and flew off, leaving Luna to herself. 

Mezza Luna clearly still saw herself as the leader of the bat ponies, and if Luna didn't destroy that idea soon it could cause problems down the line. The Changeling Ambassador had made a career out of bending his orders to suit his own needs, and what he thought was right. If Mezza Luna were to take a similar approach to following the 'spirit' of her orders, and not the letter, then the stage was set for significant problems.

Luna was very careful to conceal any disagreements she had with her sister from anyone else for this reason, if Mezza Luna got the wrong impression; and used her authority to attempt something drastic, it would have consequences for not only them, but also Luna and Equestria as a whole. She had spent most of her time exiled dreamwalking, and wasn't eager to do it for another millennium. Granted the 'loss' of the elements meant that..

No.

With a yawn, Luna glanced up at the far ceiling of the cave. A faint ray of light meant that outside the sun was rising, and it was time for her to attend the daily security briefing before resting. Perhaps she could seed the idea of a regency vote somehow, maybe the nations misguided media could be useful for once in this regard...

	
	
> Arc: Setting of the Sun
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Ambassador Wildcard was, as he usually was, at his desk. Flash Sentry, and a changeling warrior that went by the name of Fangface were on the other side of the desk, and Lyra had stopped even trying to look busy as she watched the scene unfold.

"So let me get this straight," Wildcard said, his head held in a hoof as he inspected the short changeling before him. "You want to be decommissioned, and become a citizen of Equestria?" Wildcard asked.

Fangface nodded.

"You want me to go against everything the Hive has always stood for, bend my orders, potentially make the Queen even more angry, and use my position as Eta-Delta to make this happen?" 

Fangface nodded again.

Wildcard was taken by a fit of laughter and fell back in his chair. "You're the first honest person I've met in months!" He exclaimed.

"Consider it done. I'll talk to Celestia later, I'm sure she'll approve," He said, leaning back forward.

Fangface grinned ear to ear and leapt across the desk, embracing his savior in a tight hug. "Thank you!" he yelled.

"I think he likes you," Flash said. 

Wildcard peeled himself free, "I can tell," He said, and put the short warrior on the floor. 

"Why are you two together is what I'm wondering. A legion officer with three legs and a changeling that can't change, you two make quite a pair," Wildcard commented as Fangface returned to he position beside Flash, leaning on him. 

Flash was, indeed, trilegged. After losing his left leg in Manehatten it had been replaced with a basic prosthetic, with a little wheel at the bottom. He didn't seem to mind, in fact Wildcard had noticed Flash had seemed far more confident of himself lately.

"Why not? You're dating a pony after all," Flash said.

Wildcard nodded. "True, and it's got me in a whole lot of trouble. Be careful you two, there's more eyes watching you than you care to know about," Wildcard said. 

Flash nodded and patted his friend on the head. "Let's get going Fangface, I'll show you around the guard barracks," Flash offered. 

Fangface jumped to attention and Flash led him out of the room, just as they left Fangface glanced back, yelled another thanks, and disappeared down the hallway with his friend.

Lyra smiled at Wildcard. "They're absolutely adorable, you're a kind person Wildcard," She said, and turned back her to typewriter.

Wildcard sighed, and reached in his desk for a bottle of cider. "Maybe too kind," He mumbled.

His kindness with the ponies, and constant bending of his orders to suit himself, had meant he was constantly wary of some sort of backlash from home. He knew he was probably safe until the war was over, but nothing was certain- especially in war. Feeling under his desk he relaxed when he felt the cold steel of the crossbow taped underneath. Nobody was going to get the drop on him again. If Zeta showed his face again he was as good as dead, Wildcard would make sure of it. The Night Guard was fairly certain he was active in the south now, since a group of griffon mercenaries had been attacking any of the independent states that so much as uttered a kind word about Equestria. Zeta's goals were uncertain, but the one simple fact was he was a threat, and eventually he would have to be stopped.

Wildcard took a swig of the cider and turned his attention to a report on the desk, the latest 'intelligence report' from home. Two words: "Not Good". At this point home only sent these to keep up appearances, the folders were nice though.

He shook his head and crumbled it up, tossing it across the room into Lyra's bin. He smirked upon his accurate dunking.

"That's my bin, get your own," Lyra said.

"Lyra, how much money is in the account?" Wildcard asked.

She paused to consider it, and rummaged around on her desk for a sheet of paper.

"Ten thousand bits, finally going to do something with it?" She asked.

"I could use my own staff, dealing with these immigration papers is getting to be a job on it's own," She added.

Wildcard put his legs on the desk, and leaned back. "There's a few empty buildings around town now, maybe it's time to expand the operation," He said.

"Please," Lyra commented, and set back to her work. 

Wildcard smiled. Lyra had actually been doing most of the work for him, all he really did was settle complaints, deal with home in the rare occasion they bothered talking to him, sign stuff, and attend meetings. He also drank cider, and was getting to an almost pony-like tolerance for it. At this point he could down a whole bottle with only a minor buzz.

It also took a fairly linear path out of him, and he had to go make some cider of his own. He slipped out of his chair and tapped Lyra on the back.

"If anyone asks, I'm out on business," He said, and then left the room behind. 

He met the salute of his guard outside, which if was right was the one he had dubbed 'Yin'. The other was Yang, and together they had made sure there was always a guard at the door for the last month or so. He knew full well they were probably reporting home too, but he didn't care. Buck the Queen, buck Medulla, buck them all. He would cross that bridge when he came to it. Oh if he could travel back in time and have a laugh with himself about how he would become ambassador to a state that wanted to kill him at the earliest opportunity. 

Even so, Wildcard regretted nothing. His life was better now, better then he ever imagined he could be. Here he had found love, friends, and a nation worth fighting for. A nation founded on friendship, not class based separation and fanatic devotion to an insane overlord.

Wildcard had done what those in the business called 'going native', and he was happy he did. 

Finishing his work in the washroom, which was almost a castle in itself, Wildcard trotted down the hallway with a grin on his face, it was high time he put the gem in his desk he had bought to good use. Approaching his office he found something unusual- the guard was missing.

Wildcard shrugged it off, but as he stood in the doorway he noticed Lyra was gone too. His 'something is going to try and kill me' sense tingled, and he fell into the silent walk of a seasoned changeling spy, intently noting anything different in the room. He looked under Lyra's desk, under the couches, the carpet, and his chair for anything amiss. Satisfied that nothing in the room was wrong, he looked out the window.

Across the street a griffon was standing, grinning in an open window, with a great big tube held on his shoulder. 

"Sweet Celestia, he's got a rocket propelled grenade!" Wildcard exclaimed, and dove under his desk just as the griffon fired. Wildcard frantically tried to extend a magical field around himself, but was too slow. Only a moment after he had dived under the desk the rocket impacted on the window, shattering it with a deafening explosion and bathing all inside with fire and twisted shrapnel of the reinforced window. 

To Wildcard's surprise, he opened his eyes. He was alive, somehow. He lifted his head in astonishment and slammed it against the desk, falling back with laughter when he realized what had saved him. He was a little burnt, and his coat had turned to ashes on him, but other then minor burns and an aching head he was alive. Alive and he had his desk to thank for it.

"Applebloom, whoever you are, I'm going to give you a medal," Wildcard said to himself, and grabbed the crossbow. He spun around to the window, the griffon was gone. Strapping it to his leg with the tape, he looked outside. 

Apparently that griffon wasn't the only one, plumes of smoke and flame were rising from all over Canterlot, while in the sky the guard could be seen engaging other griffons. Bursts of fire here and there were replied with the rapid buzz of back mounted guns from the ponies, and the booming noise of ground based cannons filled the sky with clouds of flak. Down in the streets below it was total chaos as ponies ran to get to the emergency shelters, screaming with terror as they went. In the sky the garrisoned airships had their own problems, frantically firing flares as dozens of rockets approached from the ground. It was too late, and the sky was filled with fire as the frigates fell, pegasi leaping out like bees abandoning a flaming hive.

The emergency sirens weren't activated, which meant this attack must have been well thought out. It was probable that communications were cut too, the bulk of the fleet was currently staging in Baltimare for tomorrow, so help was a few hours away even if they could get a message out. Wildcard ducked his head inside and swept the debris on the floor away with a magic field- better to not tear up his hooves before leaving. 

Wildcard tapped his desk, and noted that it was perfectly fine less the stain being singed a slightly darker shade of brown, which looked rather nice actually. His poor typewriter had been tossed against the wall, which was a somewhat expensive loss. Quickly unlocking the top drawer, he grabbed a small heart shaped gem and stuffed it in the remains of a jacket pocket. Swallowing the loss of the room, he darted out the door, sparing one last glance at his office. Nothing but shrapnel, debris, and his desk standing as a bulwark. He felt it proper to find something clever to say, almost as eulogy to his fallen office.

	"You've burned out."
"It's been a blast."
"You're fired."
"It was getting too hot."

"Burn notice," he said to himself, satisfied.

Dashing down the hallway without bothering to remove the tattered remains of his coat, Wildcard was mindful of the crossbow at his hip. It wouldn't do much from a distance, but if he could get in close he could finish this. There was only one person on this planet capable of planning something like this, one person with the sheer lack of empathy and crazed hatred to do it. 

	Zeta.

Wildcard's mission was clear: Find him, kill him, save the ponies. He only hoped he wasn't too late, a murderous changeling could do a lot of damage. Setting down the hallway quickly, but quietly, Wildcard was mindful of every sound and smell- the entire palace smelt of changeling at this point and it was hard to tell if this was himself and the guards, or someone new. In the distance muffled explosions and screams echoed throughout, the sound of chaos. If Discord wasn't stone, he would probably be enjoying this.

Thankfully he was, a god of chaos running around would do a lot more then cover Ponyville in snow for an hour if he was running loose during open warfare, why Celestia even bothered trying was beyond him.

While he frantically ran for the meeting room, assuming that the delegates for today's meeting had been moved there, he ran into Flash Sentry.

Before he could say hello, Wildcard found a gun in his face, followed by a click that drove home the reality of the situation.

"Against the wall!" Flash barked, Wildcard did as asked, feeling the gun at his neck the whole time. Flash was not messing around.

"Flash, what the buck is going on?" Wildcard asked frantically.

"Drop the disguise or I'll shoot you right now," Flash ordered.

Wildcard swallowed, Zeta had apparently already gotten to work.

"A few weeks ago, cider, my office, you won a statue off me in a game of cards!" Wildcard tried.

Flash pressed the gun in harder. "Oh please, the guards were they too, now I'm not going to ask again."

"The tower, you used to sleep in the highest tower of the castle- while on duty I might add!"

A tense pause followed, and then Wildcard was relieved to feel the gun removed from his neck.

"Sweet Celestia we've got problems, we can't even get a message out, the fleets in ruins, and..." Flash paused, Wildcard turned to find him looking him over with a horrified look on his face.

"If you're here, then who's observing the meeting?" he asked.

Wildcard took off down the hallway with Flash in tow. "It's Zeta, and he's got them all in the same place!" Wildcard shouted.

"I'll get to the legion, we'll get the palace locked down!" Flash shouted behind him, and darted down a side passage. Wildcard let him go, as much as he needed the help- dealing with Zeta had become personal. Zeta represented everything wrong with the changelings, and it was up to Wildcard to correct this.

Sliding around the corner he saw the doorway to the meeting room ahead, no guards at the doors. Wildcard dashed over, threw them open, and before he could speak was held in a blue field- alongside his doppleganger across the room. The princesses rose startled, interrupted by the realization there was a shapeshifter murderer in their midst.

The question to them, of course, was if he was at the door or sitting with them.

"Treachery!" Luna yelled, lifting them both into the air. 

First Class stood beside Celestia and frantically glanced to and fro. She whispered something in her superiors ear.

"We'll just have to find out which one it is, and I know how," Celestia said, and beckoned her sister over. A quick explanation and she nodded, hovering the pair to the far side of the room while the leadership formed up to judge them intently. 

"We'l st-" Celestia was interrupted by Shining Armour, his Alicorn glowing.

"I have a better idea!" He shouted, and released two rapid blasts of energy at them. Wildcard felt a fire burn at his insides and dropped to the ground writhing in pain as the blue field dissipated. He soon felt a warm hoof on his back and rolled over to see First Class- Zeta still hanging in the air behind her.

"Crude but effective, and it appears the Ambassador is no worse for wear," Luna noted somewhere in the back.

His pain was soothed with a field of golden energy, and he stood to meet the gaze of his love. Events at hand, however, demanded his attention.

"So what are we going to do with him?" Twilight asked, staring up at the slowly spinning form.

Zeta glared down at her with a force enough that she backed up. "Nothing, you're all weak. You'll imprison me, or some other foolish nonsense, and I'll come back," He growled.

"I don't think so," Wildcard said, and the eyes in the room turned to him. "High treason, war crimes, and murder? You're not leaving here, not on my watch. You knew the risks."

"Oh please, like I don't have an escape plan," Zeta said, and for a moment he glowed before releasing a blast of green magic that threw Wildcard back. He quickly rolled over and took off after Zeta down the hallway, the others stunned by the release of magic. He waved a gun backward, firing wildly as he ran. Wildcard put up a green tinted shield before his face and gave chase. 

"Zeta!" Wildcard yelled, clutching his crossbow. He couldn't hit anything running this fast. "Come back here you coward!" 

Zeta glanced back and grinned, darting down a side hallway. Wildcard pursued and ran into the arms of a griffon soldier.

To that soldiers surprise a crossbow bolt found itself embedded in his belly and he collapsed to the side. Wildcard took his flame gun and prodded him, he would probably live. Noting that for later Wildcard hefted the weapon and took off down the hallway, Zeta had gotten ahead of him but was stopped short by a locked door, finding himself at a dead end. He frantically hammered at it while Wildcard approached, checking the weapon. As far as he could tell the fuel reserve was full, and it was fired by pushing down a lever at the back.

"It's not supposed to be locked!" Zeta yelled, he kicked at the door and rebounded off. 

Seeing Wildcard approached he aimed his gun, and with a series of clicks realized he had dumped the magazine. He growled and tossed it at Wildcard, who dodged it easily, trying at the door again.

"Zeta, you ever do cove watch?" Wildcard asked. Zeta turned back and, with fear in his eyes, answered. His horn buzzed with a green light, but his magic had been spent.

"For five years- now you can't possibly be serious with that thing can you?" He returned, glancing around for some escape.

"You ever hear the sailors? When they depart they always say 'dos vedunya', do you know what that means?" Wildcard asked, closing the distance slowly, savouring his victory.

"Well it means goodbye, obviously. Now put that thing down, we can work something out!" Zeta yelled, turning back to frantically hammer at the door.

"No, Zeta, it means 'until we meet again'."

"Zeta..." Wildcard was mere feet away, and the other changeling shuddered with fear as he turned to meet his doom. "... you knew the risks," he added.

"Dos vedunya," Wildcard said, and pushed the lever down just as Zeta took a final desperate leap of attack. He burst into flames and ran screaming past Wildcard, jumping out of a window. Wildcard threw the weapon down and darted to the window. When he looked down he was relieved to see that Zeta would threaten this world no longer, he lay in a charred heap on the ground five stories down. When he looked back up he saw Flash hovering over, who looked away in disgust and turned to Wildcard.

"So that's it then?" Flash asked.

Wildcard nodded. "That's it for him, how's the situation outside?" Wildcard asked. The explosions had long since stopped, and only the sporadic sound of gunfire broke the silence. 

"Once they ran out of ammunition they cut and ran, we sent a runner to contact the rest of the Legion- but they'll be too late. It looks to me like it was a cover, diverting us so your friend here could make a move," Flash explained.

Wildcard looked past him out to the city. Smoke filled the sky from a hundred fires, and quite a few buildings either had gaping holes in them or were gone completely. 

"Hey Flash, what happened to Lyra and my guards?" Wildcard asked. 

"Well you, or he," Flash gestured downwards, "Ordered them to escort her home, She lives in the government quarter, Legion kept it safe," Flash replied.

Wildcard was relieved to hear that and let Flash depart. Curious, he trotted over to that door and took a look at it. There was nothing unusual about it specifically, except these weren't normally locked. Putting a hoof to the knob, Wildcard opened it. Confused, he walked in to see Mezza Luna standing there with a collection of other night guards at her side.

"Mezza Luna, aren't you up past your bed time?" Wildcard asked.

She grinned, "Ambassador, really, you should be thanking me. You got your revenge, all thanks to me," She said.

"You.. knew he would come this way?" Wildcard asked. Something smelled in the state of Equestria.

"Knew? I planned it. We've been feeding that felon bad intelligence for weeks- he thought he was attacking ammo dumps in the city, all he got was a few abandoned stores!" She exclaimed, sticking out her chest with pride. "And those griffons? They'll never see Wing's Reach again," She added.

"You knew this was going to happen, and you allowed it? Are you insane?!" Wildcard shouted, "You let a murderer in with the Princess's, you let the griffons attack the very capital, and I almost got killed!" He ran up and prodded her chest, ignoring the sound of  weapons being unsheathed.

"How many died today, how may died for your recklessness? Does Lu-" She pushed him down, and he found himself surrounded by pikes.

"This is war, Ambassdor. Ponies die, I saved lives today! With Zeta out of the picture, I can start work on our final victory. Stay out of my way, or you'll lose more then your office," She threatened, and stepped over him. The guards stayed for a moment with their pikes, and then left after her. Together they disappeared down a hallway, Wildcard swallowed his rage and let them go. 

"There's going to be a reckoning, you can't get away with this!" Wildcard shouted after them.

---------
Luna leapt across the table for the door, stopping short as the crack of a gun heralded a bullet whizzing past. She put a hoof to her side and caught First Class, stopping her short of the hallway while a few more bullets went past, and then silences filled the hallway.

"Let him go," Luna ordered, turning to see Wildcards love, trembling with fear and adrenaline, her eyes intently looking out into the hallway.

"What if he gets hurt? I have to help him!" She yelled, and pressed against Luna's arm. Greater forces then her had tried and failed to move that arm.

"What if you get hurt?" Luna asked, closing the door magically.

"I can handle myself, Princess, wh-" 

A soft loud thud broke the silence, and she pressed against Luna with a renewed vigor.

"I have no doubt you can handle yourself, but you're responsible for more then yourself now," Luna said, mindful of the clearly visible bump in her sisters assistants midsection.

She looked up to the Princess of the Night, and received a warm smile. Luna put a hoof on her shoulder and led her back to the meeting table. 

"She's right, and he can handle himself," Celestia said from behind. "The Legion has things well in control out there, we'll be safest here," She added.

"You're not going to blast them with your horn, or something?" First Class suggested. Princess Twilight seemed to perk up at the suggestion, but Celestia shook her head as First Class took her place beside her.

"It's a slippery slope, using that kind of power has a way of changing you," She replied.

"This is a fact, such power is tempered for a reason. Perhaps, however..."

Celestia shot her sister a look that silenced her.

The door swung open, and they all rose with their glowing horns pointed at it, but were relieved to be greeted by Field Martial Armour.

"Shining!" Cadence shouted, and dashed to embrace him. He took her up, and looked past with the eyes of a season soldier towards the other alicorns.

"The griffons are in full retreat, and it doesn't look like they have reinforcements. This was a raid, not an invasion," He reported.

Celestia and Luna both sighed with relief, Canterlot could hold against a siege, but it would be painful.

"What about the changeling traitor?" Luna asked.

"Dead, he won't be bothering us anymore," Shining said, coming to take his place hoof and hoof with his wife.

"And Wildcard?" First Class asked.

"The Ambassador? He's fine, can't say the same for his office though," Shining replied, taking his seat.

"Oh thank Celestia," First Class sighed, relieved.

Celestia couldn't help but laugh, "Wasn't me."

A few minutes of talk about the damage to Canterlot, which was thankfully minimal, later Air Martial Spitfire arrived.

"Good Afternoon Air Martial, have you contacted the fleet?" Celestia addressed as she walked in.

"I sent a runner to Ponyville, the Magnificent is on it's way. It'll be too late to go after those griffons though, damned cowards will be long gone," she replied, and took her seat. She polished off the nameplate before settling in.

Only a moment later General Masse arrived, and with a nod to his superior took his seat beside Spitfire. Almost immediately they started having a hushed, but intense, argument. Celestia pointed this out to her sister, who shrugged it off.

Three seats remained empty, the next of which arrived at the doorway with the composure of a cat that had just been startled.

"Ambassador Pike- you look like you're expecting..." Luna paused, she was going to say 'war' but that seemed insensitive.

"The Legion only just started letting trains arrive, just what the buck is going on around here?!" He asked feverishly, glancing around for his place.

"Have a seat, an we'll explain everything," Celestia offered. He did so, glancing around as the situation was explained.

"It's really that bad?" He asked upon being caught up. His reply was a nod from Celestia.

"So what can I do, then?" He asked.

"Field Martial, General, Air Martial, Attention!" Luna ordered, and then nodded to her sister as the side conversation fell to silence.

"The Wonderbolts need a ground force, but the Legion refuses to let them be in direct control, this is where you come in- General," Celestia said.

"General?!" Pike exclaimed.

"General. You will be in charge of this new 'Marine Corps'. Members will be pulled from the Legion, and a wing of Wonderbolts will be attached. You will report both to the Air Martial and the Field Martial- if you accept," Celestia explained.

All eyes were on Ambassador Pike as he considered. "You're really that desperate huh? Well, I don't suppose I do much in the hive- they pretty much just keep me around because they like me," He said, and paused before pulling the trigger.

"I accept," General Pike finished.

"Good, the details can be worked out later," Celestia said, and seeing something at the door rose along with her sister.

"Ambassador Vizitane, I'm glad you could make it," She said, giving a slight curtsy. Twilight and Cadence followed with the same, exchanging an unsure glance. Neither of the had seen this zebra before.

"I apologize for the state of security, You weren't hurt were you?" Celestia asked.

Vizitane shook his head, and filled the second seat. "Oh no, no need to apologize. This was completely out of your control, and suits my needs rather well, actually,"

"Oh?" Luna asked.

"The griffons made a fatal mistake today- they attacked a zebra owned business. While it was empty, and none were hurt, it will be enough. Along with the situation in the south, this will be enough for the Emperor to justify intervention,"

"That's fantastic, news! With the south under control we can focus fully on the ocean," Luna noted.

"You can indeed, and we stand to make significant... gains.. in the south," Vizitane said, clacking his hooves together on the table.

Luna looked over the room, and satisfied with some inner question turned to her sister, "Before we get started, could we talk outside- in private?" Luna asked.

Celestia nodded, and silently followed her sister outside. The door shut behind them, and the two guards that had been standing watch went inside behind them. 

"I'm going to call the vote," Luna said.

"I suspected as much, you've been drumming up support for days now, " Celestia returned.

"It's no secret that I think it is I who should be in charge, that is true. I just want to... make sure this doesn't come between us," Luna said.

"You've ruled for as long as I have, and if you think it's the best thing to do, then so be it. At least this time you haven't torn down the castle," Celestia smirked, and continued. "I'll fight, don't think I won't. But if you win, then I won't stand in the way."

"I expect no less, I won't hold back," Luna warned,

"Neither will I," Celestia returned, and pushed open the door.

"Sister," She said, gesturing inside.

-------

Wildcard turned and departed back for the meeting room. He considered bursting in and accusing Mezza Luna of treason, but the Night Guard surely wouldn't be brought down that easy. There was nothing he could do right now, but perhaps they had wronged some of the others and a plan could be conceived. He would tell Luna on his own time, she trusted him enough to believe him, but she might well agree with their methods. They were successful, if reckless, and managed to remove the threat of Zeta and his mercenaries. It was a stupid plan though, and could have destroyed them all. 

That, and it had almost gotten himself killed. Himself and, gritting his teeth with rage at the thought, First Class. 

Mezza Luna was gonna pay, in time. For now Wildcard had a vote to observe. He obviously didn't have a vote in the regency election, but was entitled to observe. The idea was tossed around after yesterday's meeting, which lined up perfectly with the final liberation of Baltimare. The fleet was staging there, the Legion was ready, and a few hundred changeling warriors were even on standby. Tomorrow they would finally be rid of the griffon threat in the north.

Luna had asked him last night, intruding on his dreams, again, if the she would have the hives support. His answer was as simple as it was true: "No more or less then Celestia," 

Wildcard himself supported her, she was a pony that could get things done. Almost like Chrysalis, except her plans actually succeeded.

Wildcard came up on the meeting room, and was relieved to see it was guarded now. Nodding at him Wildcard passed inside, and closed the doors behind him as he entered into a fierce debate. He silently weaved behind the others and took a seat on the corner, exchanging a smile with First Class. 

"... Alright that's enough, we've all got our own ideas on how to fight this war, which means there's only one way to proceed. You all know the rules. Myself, Princess Luna, Princess Twilight Sparkle, Princess Cadence, and Prince Shining Armour can all run, and will be allowed opening arguments. All of you- less our friends here, can vote, agreed?" Celestia said, the 'nominees' nodded their approval.

Equestria had an odd form of governance, almost seemingly made up on the fly. The important part was those with the real power agreed with it, and thus it was barely written down if at all. 

"As you all know, the office of Queen Regent has existed only once before, taken by myself in the absence of my sister in order to better repair the fallout from that... dark period. For Nine hundred years there has been no Queen Regent, and the office represents the total faith of all of Equestria," Celestia explained.

Looking across the room he noticed the other 'friends'. Ambassador Vizitane of the Zebra's was here, and strangely so was Ambassador Pike, it had been a long time since Wildcard had seen the Equestrian Ambassador to the Changelings. They all exchanged nods.

"I won't be running, and neither will my husband," Princess Cadence said, Shining Armour nodded his agreement. 

"That leaves us then," Twilight said, seated in between Celestia and Luna.

Wildcard grinned to himself, and settled into his chair. Princess Twilight Sparkle was apparently going to try for it, this might be fun.

"Well, by all means then you can argue first, Princess," Luna suggested.

Twilight stood, looking proud in her royal regalia. Spitfire, sitting somewhat to the side beside the General, suppressed laughter.

"I, Princess Twilight Sparkle, may be Equestria's newest Princess, but I do have something to offer," She opened, and conjured up a glowing field of blue. "Magic," 

"I propose that we use our most powerful magic, and go on the offensive. Who needs a fleet, or armies, or even weapons when we can bend time and space? We could lift the griffon home islands into the air!" She exclaimed, and extinguished the effect.

Wildcard, and the rest, were horrified at the idea. 

"You have no idea what you're getting into Twilight Sparkle, such reckless use of powerful magic would destroy our world!" Luna shouted.

"What's the alternative, Princess? Hundreds have already died, and we have the power to end this all in one fell swoop!" Twilight returned, slamming the table.

"My sister is right, Twilight. Such power cannot be controlled even by the best of us, we live in dark times indeed, but what you propose is lighting the whole world on fire," Celestia argued.

"I can control it, let me help! I can save them!" Twilight argued bitterly, Wildcard saw a visible tear drop from her eye.

He felt sorry for her, all this chaos thrown at here mere months into her reign. She must feel powerless, yet everybody looked up to her to save them. Imagine a million people calling for help, and having so much power that you could only destroy them if you tried to save them.

She shook on the table, stammering. Shining Armour whispered something in his wife's ear and came to her side.

"Twilight, relax, you can't take the whole world on your shoulders," He said, softly.

"I'm a princess, that's what princess's do! Celestia raises the sun, Luna raises the moon, Cadence looks after the Crystal Empire- I have to..."

She fell into her brothers arms, crying. Hushed conversations ran through the room as he led her out the doors, closing them softly behind him.

Celestia sighed and shook her head. "This war is bringing out the worst in all of us, which is why I argue we must strive to take a defensive posture. Cooler heads will prevail eventually, with the griffons off the continent we can fortify our position," She said.

"Fortify, and wait for a repeat of today? Or Black Friday? Or Baltimare? Unless we remove their ability to fight, they will return. They will return and we still don't know what it is they want the crystal heart for- we must retrieve it before they use it for whatever end," Luna retorted.

"A repeat of today would cost far less lives then an invasion of the griffon home islands. Do you have any idea how many troops, how much supplies, and how much time that would take? I've gone over this Luna- ten thousand casualties. Ten thousand. That's assuming the griffons don't have any more surprises!" Celestia yelled.

"If we don't then we set ourselves up as a weak nation, unable to protect itself! The griffons won't be our only problems, every two bit warlord on the planet will be out to grab a piece of the Equestrian pie! If ten thousand valiant sacrifices is what it takes to ensure our freedom, then so be it!" Luna returned.

"May I remind you, sister, that the regency was originally created to fix your mistakes? How can we trust you with this power, considering you almost killed me trying to take it in the first place!" Celestia argued, staring her sister down.

Wildcard joined the gasps around the room. This was getting dirty. 

"My mistakes? I strengthened our nation! I founded our healthcare system, unified the guard, nationalized the trains, and created our school system- you never did repeal those acts!" Luna yelled, meeting her glare.

"You also made taxes nearly universal, created communal farms, conscripted thousands into your new guard, annexed a half dozen independent states, and nearly went to war with the zebras!" 

Wildcard noted the history lesson, fascinating.

"And I'll do it all again! Those measures are exactly what we need right now!" Luna shouted, and turned to the others. They all nodded their approval- except General Mass.

"I call the vote," Luna said, sitting.

Celestia did as well, she had spent her magazine.

"Second," Cadence added.

First Class sat up, finally able to do her job. "Vote is called, we'll start on the left," She said, banging a small gavel on the table (where she had been keeping it the whole time Wildcard hadn't the faintest idea.)

"Abstain," Celestia muttered.

Luna mulled it over for a moment, she couldn't vote for herself, and Cadence had dropped out.

"Abstain," She said.

"Prince Shining Armour and I will vote for Princess Luna," Cadence said. 

Wildcard glanced at Celestia as First Class noted this, she had basically lost at this point, and seemed utterly heartbroken. He couldn't help but feel sympathetic, Luna would surely see Equestria victorious, but the cost would be enormous to the nation. A nation founded on the ideas of friendship and harmony, launching an offensive and surely bloody military campaign. 

"I get a vote?" Pike asked.

"You do ,general, I have to admit we're basically making this up as we go," First Class replied.

Wildcard concealed a laugh. General. Equestria really must be desperate for leadership if they were calling up the pony that disobeyed his orders to save the changelings.

He rolled his head around, considering his options.

"Princess Twilight Sparkle," He said. Wildcard was taken aback, but the others just shrugged it off.

"Princess Celestia," General Masse said quickly after him.

"Princess Luna," Air Martial Spitfire added.

The door opened, and Shining Armour returned with his sister. Her eyes were damp with tears, but she seemed to have regained her composure.

"I vote for Princess Luna, and let's get this over with," She said. 

Luna grinned and rose from her position, First Class banged her gavel.

"I then, by whatever powers I have now, declare Princess Luna the second Queen Regent of Equestria. May she help us all," She announced.

Celestia quickly left, General Masse behind her. 

"Field Martial, start the draft," Luna ordered, Shining nodded and departed with Cadence behind him.

"Air Martial, have your fleet prepare for oceanic operations, and get General Pike set up. I'll give you twenty thousand from the Legion- make good use of it," Luna ordered her.

"Yes ma'am!" Spitfire replied with a sharp salute. She was grinning nearly ear to ear as she led Pike out, explaining something deeply rooted in military jargon to him.

"First Class, continue to assist my sister in whatever duties she sees fit to take, and Ambassador," Luna gestured to Wildcard.

"I believe you have something to say, so we will leave you two alone," Luna said, and left. Vizitane followed after her, with a wink to his counterpart.

First Class cocked an eyebrow and came to Wildcard, taking his hoof in hers.

"What's up, and why does Luna know?" She asked.

Wildcard sighed, he was dreaming of their wedding last night, Luna must have been there for some time.

He reached into his scorched pocket, and produced a heart shaped gem. It was blue, but if you looked at it at a certain angle a green hue was visible inside. Wildcard bent down and offered it to her.

"First Class, will y-"

She pulled him back up. "Yes, of course," She said, and took him in with a kiss that seemed, to Wildcard, like a perfect moment in time. 

	

	


	

	


	
> Arc: Rising of the Moon
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Princess Luna, or more properly now Queen Regent Luna strode out of the meeting room, glowing with pride. She was somewhat surprised to find her second outside, flanked by a few of the old elite guards. Each had an impressive combat record, and as a group had stopped a few dragons with nothing but pikes.

Dragons didn't migrate. They retreated. 

"Mezza Luna, such good timing. You'll be taking over the Night Guard duties for a while, while I get this nation in proper fighting shape," Luna ordered.

Her second bowed, along with the others. "It will be done, your highness. I assume the meeting went well?" 

Luna grinned as she rose, "it went perfectly. I'll see us through this dark time, as only I can. The Legion failed us today, for the last time. Protection of Canterlot is in your hands now," Luna said.

Mezza Luna nodded to one of her comrades, who trotted down the hall. "We'll make the city secure, you've no need to worry about that," She said.

Luna looked down on her, a slight frown visible. "Good, but remember who the enemy is here. We have laws for a reason, and I expect you to work within them," She warned.

"Of course, your highness," Mezza said, and with another quick bow led her comrades away.

Luna shook her head, something about her second seemed off, but she had been loyal thus far. The Night Guard had never failed Luna before, so she dismissed the idea and continued towards the throne room with the stride of a Queen. Normally she would tired around now, but she had delegated most of the Night Guard duties to her second in preparation of this. It took a thousand years, but she would finally prove to them all that she was equally as capable a ruler as her sister, if differently.

For a long time Celestia had seen them walk in the light, fearful of what the dark brought. Today that changed. Equestria would fight the dark head on, with all it's strength, and prevail into a brighter day beyond. Their would be sacrifice, there would be blood, but a greater nation would come out of it all. 

Luna came on the throne room, and nodded at the bat guards. Opening the door she found her sister at the throne, surrounded by the radio and television equipment that had been moved in here over the past few weeks. Every morning she addressed the nation, and every once in a while she had a press conference. CBC was the name given to the new television network, Canterlot Broadcast Service. Everfree Radio was required by law to yield to it on the radio ways as well. Equestria Daily remained the only truly free press, Luna would have to speak with their editors soon. 

Slightly below Celestia was Vizitane, the Zebra ambassador. A new face in Canterlot, his motivations were at least clear- Help the Equestrians, and in return the Empire would be allowed to annex a good chunk of the independent states. Luna didn't care what happened down there, so long as it didn't effect Equestria, so all the power to him. 

"Sister, Ambassador," Luna addressed, dodging around a dish pointed out a window. The floor was a maze of thick wiring she had to dance through to get to the throne. 

Vizitane gave a slight bow, and stepped aside. Celestia rose. "I suppose this is yours now, do take good care of it- Queen," She said, giving an exaggerated bow. 

Luna stepped up, and on passing her gave her reply. "I assure you, sister, that I'll see us through this. You can relax now, the war is in capable hooves," she said, plopping her dark blue flank on the, rather comfortable, throne. She sighed and allowed herself to relax into it.

Celestia shook her head. "That's not what I'm worried about, you can win the war and still use the nation- don't forget why we founded Equestria," She said.

"Friendship and harmony, I was there. Friends protect each other, sister, and friends fight for each other. So that's what we'll do, fight. ," Luna said in turn.

Celestia frowned, but nodded her acceptance. "You have the faith of us all, I'll be here if you need me," She said, and departed.

Vizitane watched her leave then turned to Luna. "Fascinating, thousands of years of ruling and you did what she couldn't in less then a year, I owe the Emperor a province," He said.

"You do?" Luna asked, intrigued.

"Oh yes, I had bet him that Celestia would declare herself Queen, in order to block you. He suspected that you would take that out from under her, well done," He explained.

"If you think this is a simple grab for power you are mistaken," Luna growled. "I will do what I must to end this, and then I will relinquish it," She added.

"Will you? You have the strength of will to take what you want. Equestria could use a leader such as yourself- permanently," He suggested.

Luna scowled at him. "Do you have business here, or are you just trying my patience?" She demanded.

He shook his head, "Not specifically no, I just wanted to congratulate you on a game well played," He said, giving a bow. "I suppose I should get back to my part," he said, giving a slight bow and turning to leave.

"This isn't a game Ambassador," Luna said after him as he left.

"Oh but it is, the most dangerous game we will ever play!" He shouted to the room, and vanished into the hallway.

Luna sat on the throne, alone. The ambassador was right, in a way, a great many would try and move up the ladder now that Luna was in charge. She would have to act quickly to placate the public too, who might very well see this as a coup. She would wait until tomorrow for the announcement, giving it with her sister in the morning address. News of the pending victory in Baltimare, along with her sisters blessing, would placate the masses.

Hopefully.

---------------------

Flash Sentry trotted into General Masse's office, finding him packing up.

"Going somewhere, sir?" Flash asked.

"Legion is moving south, we'll be helping the zebras down there- I imagine we won't do much.. Night Guard is taking up the home guard duties, and the 'marines' will be going out with the Wonderbolts. Luna ordered the entire garrison at Baltimare be given to the marines, we'll basically be starting over with conscripts," He explained, and hefted a box on top of his desk. 

"Made your decision yet?" He asked.

Flash nodded, "I have sir, I'll be heading to Baltimare tomorrow- for the marines," he replied.

The General nodded, "Ah, makes sense. Best of both worlds I guess. I'll miss having you around, you were a good officer," He said, patting his subordinates shoulder. 

"Thank you sir, I won't forget my time here," Flash said, saluting.

General Masse met it, "Brave of you, I imagine the heavy lifting will be out there, all we'll be doing is keeping the changelings protected. What a weird world we live in," He noted.

"Luna is Queen, we're at war, and the Changelings are getting citizenship. The world's gone backwards sir, but we'll put it right in the end," Flash said.

The General hefted a box under his arm and gestured out the door. Flash darted out of his way outside. 

"You see to it we do, you'll be doing more important work then me Sergeant, take care out there," He said, and with another pat on the shoulder left down the hallway. 

Flash went the other way, and found Fangface where he had left him. On spotting Flash he wagged his tail and came to his friends side.

"So you told him, we're going to be marines?" He asked.

"We sure are, but I don't know if we'll be able to stay together," Flash replied.

Fangface tugged at a tuft of fur. "I don't think I could fit in with the other ponies, you've got to find a way," he pleaded.

Flash tussled his hair. "I'll see what I can do, I used to work with the Field Martial, maybe we can have a chat," he said.

The sound of two people laughing echoed through the hallway, and as Flash and Fangface rounded the next corner they came upon Wildcard and First Class. They were entangled together, and she had an amulet hanging around her neck. 

"... So then she orders, like, a hundred out to get it. A hundred warriors for a cake. I swear I don't know how she's kept the hive together this long," Wildcard said.

First Class laughed, Flash and Fangface shared a bemused glance. "Oh that's nothing! Celestia ordered the entire guar-" She paused on noticed the two ahead.

"Well good afternoon Sergeant, and I see you've got your friend with you," First Class said, leaning down to smile at Fangface. He blushed in return.

"Hopefully I'll be a sergeant tomorrow, no idea if they'll bust me down to private or what," Flash said.

"So you've made your decision?" Wildcard asked. First Class was busy tickling Fangface. 

"Yeah, gonna go out with the Marines tomorrow, and he'll be coming too," Flash said, gesturing to his friend.

"Really? Isn't he a little short for a trooper?" She asked, Fangface put on his warface. The effect was less then he had hoped, and she giggled. 

"He'll be fine, I'll make sure of it. I can probably apprentice him or something, good for morale to see us together," Flash said.

"Good argument, if General Pike makes an issue of it tell me, and I'll set him straight," Wildcard offered. "In fact if I really threw my weight around I could pr-" Flash stuck out a hoof and cut him off.

"No, none of that patronage stuff. I'll take whatever they give me and work from there, just as long as my friend here comes with," he said, pulling Fangface close. 

Wildcard nodded. "Spoken like a true soldier. Best of luck out there, I doubt I'll see you tomorrow, but I'll be watching from above," Wildcard said. "You should see Luna, by the way, you're not officially a citizen yet," he added to Fangface. 

He nodded, and looked to his mentor. "Yeah, I guess we should," Flash said.

"We'll go together, I wanted to see the 'queen' too," Wildcard said.

Together they went, and the throne room wasn't far. Flash went to open the door when the walked up but found his arm briskly slammed down by a pike held by one of the night guards. His partner clashed his against it.

"Halt! Who are you that would just walk in on Her Highness?" He demanded.

Wildcard laughed at him while Flash glared, rubbing his arm. "What got up your plot? Step aside friend, we're here on official business," He said, and to his surprise found the pike prodding his chest. He glared at the bat, instinctual reaching for his naked leg.

First Class took his arm, which calmed the rage somewhat. "And what would that be?" The guard demanded.

"Classified," Wildcard said, staring hm down. It wasn't really, but buck this guy.

He leaned in, but the match of wits was interrupted when the the door opened, pulled by a blue field.

"It's the Ambassador you two, we've no need for that," Luna said from inside. Wildcard smirked and led the group inside. Fangface took it upon himself to growl at them.

Once inside the guards slammed the doors behind, a clear statement of disrespect.

"Don't mind them too much, they're just doing their job," She said, sitting over in the throne. 

Wildcard danced through the maze of wires. "I can understand security, but it's not like we're peasants your Highness- I'm an Ambassador for.. your sake," He said.

She nodded, "I agree, I'll make sure next time you have less of a hassle. There will be some adjustment for all us," She said, and adjusted her position to appear more 'regal',sitting upright and allowing the sun to shine off her crown. "Now, did you have business?" She asked.

Wildcard backed up, and nodded to Flash- whom took his place with a small bow.

"Yes, your Highness," he said, and pulled Fangface forward. His head was bowed down, as if cowering.

"My friend here would like to become a citizen of Equestria, Highness," Flash explained.

Luna sighed, and rolled her regal eyes. "Why would you see fit to bother me with such triviality?" She said, and pointed to First Class.

"You remain my sisters assistant, correct?" She asked.

"I do..." First Class replied.

"Fantastic, process our friends citizenship, and ensure trivial matters such as this are dealt with. Such matters are beneath me," Luna ordered.

"...trivial matters?" First Class asked, 

Luna rolled her eyes again. "If it doesn't concern the greater nation, or the lives of my subjects, it need not concern me directly," She explained. "Sergeant Sentry, take your friend here and get to your duty station, you two.." She looked at Wildcard and First Class.

"Stay," She ordered.

Wildcard and First Class shared an unsure glance as Flash bowed, and left with Fangface at his side. Too quickly, in Wildcard's opinion, they left him alone with the Princess, or rather Queen, of the Night.

"So uhh..." First Class wasn't sure what to say.

"I'm going to make something clear to you both right now- we're at war," Luna said, Wildcard noted a very faint glow in her eyes.

"With that said- did you accept his proposal?" Luna asked.

"I'm not sure what concern of yours it is, but yes," First Class said. 

"You're a high ranking government official; he's the ambassador of the changelings, and a trusted field agent. Your lives of great concern to me, which is why I hope you forgive me for this," She said, and stepped down from the throne. 

Wildcard shared another uneasy glance at his love, and tried desperately to figure out what was going through Luna's head.

"You're... going to deny our marriage?" He asked, fearful of the answer.

Luna shook her head, "No, no that would only make you two resentful. Instead, I'm going to marry you right now," She said.

First Class, and Wildcard, both released gasps, and their mouths hung agape.

"First Class, you're an orphan, correct?" Luna asked. First Class nodded.

"And you, ambassador, your 'family' is as likely to kill you as anything next you meet. So I think it would be wise to get this done, here and now, and you two can focus on the important issues- such as the war."

"So wait, doesn't that make me a citizen... how does this even work?" Wildcard asked.

"Citizen? Oh no, no you remember our agreement. You're more than just that. You are a Duke, your wife a Duchess," Luna said.

This was followed by pair of gasps. Luna snickered, amused at their reaction.

"You seem surprised, but you shouldn't be. Those that serve the state well- and you two certainly have- should be rewarded," She said.

"I have other reasons for this as well, but don't mind that now. Are you two ready?" She asked.

Wildcard looked to his love, whom looked to him. She shrugged.

"I guess, I never wanted a big wedding anyway," She said.

Wildcard turned to Luna. "Well, alright. Let's do it," He said.

Luna nodded. "Good, I was hoping you wouldn't object," She said, and cleared her throat.

"Do you, 'Eta-Delta', also known as 'Wildcard', take First Class to be your wife?" She asked.

Wildcard gazed into her eyes, and glowed like a green light bulb. "I do," Wildcard said, and took First Class's hoof in his own.

"Do you, First Class, take Wildcard to be your husband?" 

"I do," First Class said.

"You're married," Luna announced, and went back to the throne. 

"I have some business with the Ambassador, I'll make it quick so you two can.." She trailed off at the obvious.

First Class nodded, and with a kiss left Wildcard. "I'll wait in the hall," she said.

Thus Ambassador Wildcard was left with Queen Luna, and he approached her. It had only been hours, and already she seemed to sit on the throne as if she had forever.

"So what's the catch?" Wildcard asked.

"Oh, no 'catch', only your continued service to the crown as a subject," She said.

"That's a catch," Wildcard growled.

Luna sat upright, and glared down at him. "Do not take that tone with me. What I can give, I can take away," She warned. 

"Tomorrow, you are to observe the fighting in Baltimare, report to me your opinions on the changelings fighting- if they're giving it their best. Following this I want you to go home, and speak to your Queen," She ordered.

Wildcard was taken aback. "You're kidding right? She'll kill me!" He exclaimed fearfully.

Luna laughed. "She'll do no such thing against a Duke of Equestria, it would mean war. Plus, you will be travelling with a delegation from the Night Guard, a gesture of good will," She said.

"And these bats are going to case the place for another invasion, right?" Wildcard asked.

"Correct, as well as ensuring that the Baltimare refugees are being treated well. Dealing with the Queen is a bridge we will have to cross eventually, and I will make sure it crossed swiftly and painlessly," She replied.

"I trust you have no objections, Duke?" She asked, peering down on him from on that throne. 

Wildcard considered his answer, the trick with politics was to speak something without saying anything, to leave yourself contingency options. Wording such as "I am not committing any crimes at this time." "I am not a crook". Meaningless, but reassuring.

"I have no objections at this time, your Highness- although I am slightly unsure how to proceed as Ambassador," He said.

Luna snorted. "Spoken like a true noble. As for your role of ambassador- you didn't do much to begin with. Find a new office, and continue doing whatever it is you do during the day- keep up appearances for the public," She said.

Wildcard bowed. "As you wish," He said, and turned to leave.

"Ambassador..." Luna said, he glanced over his shoulder to see he sitting there, hooves tented together. 

"I'm watching you," She warned.

Wildcard suppressed a sigh at the cliche and opened the doors, outside First Class waited, and they slammed shut behind him.	

"Queen of the Cliches," Wildcard muttered, and strode up to her. 

She immediately slammed him against the wall and took him a deep kiss, When she withdrew she held Wildcard. "So, we're married now?" She asked.

"I suppose we are..." Wildcard replied, half dazed.

First Class winked. "Well then, Duke Wildcard, you know what we're supposed to do..." She said, and capped it with a coy wink. 

Wildcard's brain got off the train, and she tugged behind her what was once nothing more then a changeling spy, with no more ambition then to make his Queen happy. Now he was a Duke of Equestria, married, and with a child on the way. For the first time in his thirty year existence he was truly happy. 

They were not seen until the next morning.

-------------------------------------------------------

That morning Celestia did as she usually did, and raised the sun at 7:15AM. Control of the sun had meant a perfect 365 day year, with four perfectly aligned seasons every year for thousands of those. The sheer power in that meant that she could easily destroy the entire world if she wanted to, but there were higher authorities to answer to than herself. One did not gain this sort of power and remain unnoticed. 

Coming into the throne room still wearing her nightgown, holding a cup of coffee in a cup with the sun on it, along with the words "Praise the Sun"; she found her sister staring out the window, already lowering the moon. 

For a thousand years she had to do that herself, every day being reminded of the fact she had banished her own sister to the moon. Having her back was an emotional belief beyond words, but she worried what the new found power given to her might do. Luna had tried to make her name known once before, culminating in mass civil discontent and a coup launched by the Night Guard. If she hadn't used the elements of harmony...

Celestia didn't like to think about that.

"Good Morning sister," Celestia addressed, and came to the window. "Punctual as usual," She added, sipping her coffee.

"Good Morning indeed, the night has been calm and today the dawn brings a new age onto Equestria, the Magnificent will sail east soon, and our victory will begin," Luna said, stepping back from the window.

Celestia replaced her, and her alicorn shone bright as the horizon was bathed with the glow of the rising sun. "Confident as always, I always missed that; the confidence," She said.

Luna pointedly sat on what was now her throne. "For good reason sister. With the Zebras help we now outnumber the griffons. It's only a matter of time until we put this dark chapter behind us, and return to business as usual," She said.

Celestia finished her job, the sun peeking over the horizon, and flooding the room with it's golden glow. "I hope so, Luna, I fear we may never truly return to how Equestria was, the peace has been broken," She said, and hung her nightgown on a nearby rack. For a month she had broadcast the morning update from here, and had it down to a science. On cue a stallion holding a clipboard entered the room, followed by a dozen others that took up positions.

"You're on in five, we've got a camera out watching the fleet, just like you asked," he said, and took his seat behind the cameras.

Luna gestured her sister come over to her side. "I think it best you open sister, and explain for our subjects the new reality," She suggested.

Celestia knew it was an order, even if it was worded not to seem as such. Luna was in charge, and she would have to follow her lead. Celestia didn't think any ill of her for taking power, but took it upon as her own failure to lead. She had failed Equestria when it needed her most, but perhaps she could still help in some small way. 

"I suppose it would be best, last time you addressed the citizens..." Celestia trailed off, and took her seat beside the throne with a wink to her sister.

She took a deep breath. "THE NIGHT SHALL LAST SLIGHTLY LONGER THEN USUAL," She shouted, startling those below. 

Luna laughed, and Celestia did too. "It's been a long time since I felt this good, thank you," Luna said.

Celestia smiled and nodded.

"Thirty seconds, your Highness's," The director said, and settled into his chair. A small whine heralded the assorted broadcasting equipment coming to life. 

Thirty seconds later the Queen Regent Luna addressed the nation alongside her sister.

"Good Morning citizens of Equestria, I once again come before you to keep you informed during these dark times. Today will be a little different, as it is with deep regret that I must admit my failure to lead us through this chaos. Thus it has been decided that I will yield the throne to my sister. She has my total faith, and I hope she has yours too. I yield the floor to Queen Regent Luna now, may she help us all," Celestia announced to the camera, as regally as one could be. She nodded to her sister who sat up and, with a glimmer of fire in her eye, spoke.

"Good Morning subjects, today with the rising of the sun so does our nation rise to fight the evil that has plagued it for so long. For too long have we fought defensively like an injured animal, cowering in fear and hoping for help. There is no help, we must- and we will- help ourselves. Done are the days of this 'phoney war', done are the days of opulence while our guardians go to their end defending us. We will make sacrifices, we will pay a price, but from this dark chapter a stronger, bolder, more united Equestria will prevail," She boomed, the room shuddering as her speech echoed.

"Even now our brave defenders in the Wonderbolts and Legion prepare to wipe the threat off this continent, and take the fight to where the griffons live. Nobody will threaten this great nation every again once we're through, I assure you of that. We will meet them in battle on the islands, we will meet them in battle in the peaks of Wings Reach, and we will meet them in battle in vast seas in between. We will meet them, and we will prevail."

She paused, and took a breath. 

"Today, two things will happen. First, I have instructed Field Martial Armour to begin the draft, conscripts will receive their orders in the mail shortly. Refusal to serve is treason. Secondly the Equestrian Games are cancelled until further notice. The security costs- not to mention the frivolous spending on recreational sports, will be diverted back to the Legion," she announced.

The production crew gasped, and glanced around at one another. The Equestrian Games hadn't been cancelled in...

Ever.

"That is all for now. I will entertain questions by the media this evening," Luna said.

The director took the hint, and gestured to another member of the crew. The whine of the equipment settled, and a small light on the camera faded away.

Luna sighed, and slumped into the throne. She looked... pleased.

"Sister, that was a great experience. To know that the entire nation was hearing me, all at once. Our subjects should be addressed like this more often," She said.

Celestia suppressed a sigh, and nodded to the director who took his colleagues out. They left muttering to each other about this and that, Celestia catching the words "too far" and "is it worth it?"

"Careful 'queen' Luna, you don't want to become a cliche- we already have one living next door," She warned.

Luna frowned, but nodded her acceptance. "So then make sure I don't; be my Royal Advisor on Cliches," she said.

Celestia smiled, and patted her sister, her little sister, on the head. 

"As you wish, Queen Luna," Celestia said, and stepped down from the throne. Below she took an exaggerated bow.

"I'll leave you to the first day of your reign, may it last..." She paused, the traditional 'a thousand years' seemed inappropriate.

"As short as possible," Luna finished for her, smiling down at her sister.

"May your reign be the shortest in history, Queen Luna," Celestia said, and left her sister alone in the throne room. The throne room doors shut behind her.

"May it be the shortest in history indeed," Luna mumbled to herself, and looked on the throne room with a grin on her face.

She would do her duty, and hand a stronger Equestria to her sister. Perhaps she would retain more power in civil affairs, and certainly the people would finally respect her. They always said she was harsh, demanding, sometimes even 'scary'. She was what they needed now though, Equestria had grown fat and needed to go through boot camp- literally as well as metaphorically- if it had any chance of invading and occupying the griffon home islands.

Luna clacked her hooves together and pondered her next move. Today had been planned well in advance by the military, but what about beyond that. The farms could be made more efficient, collectivized and rationed by the state. Something flew into her mind derailing that line of thought.

With the elements gone... our reign need not be so short.

	No. Never again.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Celestia strode out into the hallway, and the throne room doors shut behind her, followed by the clash bat pony polearms.

She glanced back and smirked at the two bat pony guards. "Do show some respect, the moon is quite cold this time of year," She hissed, and left them glancing at each other fearfully.The Night Guard would have to be shown it's place, Luna didn't seem to notice it was getting out of hand. She knew them as the devoted fanatic followers of herself from a thousand years ago, and placed her faith in them utterly. Celestia knew better then that, and had been sure they knew their place in her time. Luna had enough to worry about now though, taking the entire war on her shoulders. 

Celestia grinned to herself, glad to have an objective- a purpose. Show them their place, so that Luna doesn't have to. She might balk at the idea of warfare, but Celestia was quite good at the more subtle arts of ruling.

Quite good.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Wildcard awoke, sore all over. Opening his eyes he rolled his head and smiled on seeing First Class there beside him. Careful not to disturb her he got out of bed, and noticed that he looked absolutely terrible. His fur was singed all over, his mane was blackened, and his fetlocks were unshorn like some commoner. With a sigh of dissatisfaction he made his way to the washroom and took a shower. Warm water, one of life's greatest pleasures.

It turned out that was a somewhat poor idea, and the singed fur fell off leaving him with pink patches all over. Thankfully there was a trench coat in the rarely used wardrobe, kept around just in case he had to go out on 'business'.  Putting it on, he looked himself over.

It would have to do, while his hooves were still unfashionable, at least he didn't look like a rat.

First Class sighed, and rolled over to see her husband looking himself over at the mirror.

"You look like crap..." She said softly.

Wildcard grinned back at her, "You didn't mind much last night," He said.

She held her head in her hooves, and met his gaze. "You broke the treaty last night," she said coyly.

Wildcard looked back to the mirror, and adjusted his coat. "I'm a duke now, that doesn't apply- I think," He said, and turned back.

"Time to get back to work, see you when I'm back.. Duchess First Class," He said, giving an exaggerated bow. His head shot up when he finished, having an idea. 

"Buy us a house," He suggested.

"Y'know, generally people move in together first, and then get married," she said, sliding out of the bed. 

"Generally ponies don't marry shapeshifters either, we're blazing a new trail," Wildcard said, and found himself interrupted by a knock at the door. Opening it, he found Lyra standing in the hallway, quite distraught.

"Wildcard, they blew up our office!" She exclaimed, frantically trotting in place.

"Lyra..." Wildcard said, grasping her shoulders, "... the desk is fine, so it's no real loss," he continued.

"Plus, I'm fine, so there's that, he added.

Lyra finally noticed Wildcard's rather... unkempt look.

She snorted, "you look like crap," She noted, to a holler of a laughter from First Class.

Wildcard smirked. "You should see the other guy."

Lyra shuddered. "Papers called it 'a dagger in Equestria's back'. Equestria Daily wants Chrysalis to pay for the whole thing," She said.

Wildcard snorted at that. "Good luck, they're as likely to..." He trailed off, and realized changing the topic from 'the hive is going to invade you eventually'

"Nevermind that, where's the guards?" Wildcard asked.

Lyra gestured behind, Wildcard stuck his head out the door. Sure enough, one of them was standing at attention a ways down.

Wildcard squinted at him. "... Yin?" he guessed.

"Yang, you can tell by the way he blinks," Lyra said.

He watched the guard, and shortly he blinked twice in rapid succession, his eyes darting around alert for threats.

"Yin has a habit of staring at his hooves when he gets bored," Lyra added, and prodded her boss for attention.

"Right, noted. Go out with our friend here and get us a new office, and salvage what you can from the old one. I'll leave the whole account at your disposal," Wildcard ordered.

Lyra gave a little noise best described as a 'squee' and grinned widely. "The whole thing?!" she asked.

"The whole thing," Wildcard replied, meeting her smile.

There was close to 15,000 bits in that account, and more beyond that tied up in investments and bonds. When the war was over Wildcard was going to be very wealthy indeed. He was even titled now, families had certainly started with less.

He grinned while he thought to himself, Lyra going down the hallway mumbling something about a street corner. He wasn't starting a family, he was starting a dynasty. Heck, if he played his cards right he might even have a dominion. Found a town in the Badlands with some of the other changelings, live to be a ripe old stallion. 

All assuming, of course, that he didn't end up dead or exiled before he got the chance. He was stuck between a million griffons and a hard place.

Glancing back at First Class, who was preening herself by the mirror, he said farewell before starting out for the day. Today he was supposed to go with Spitfire south to Baltimare to observe the battle, as the official representative of the Hive. Just another showing in public to prove to the Equestrians they were allies. Plus, a hundred of the most elite changeling warriors were lined up for this assault, each of them had proven themselves in combat. The century was known as Borealia's Bane, as it was they that had razed that place to the ground. Their leader had no nickname, as was traditional, and retained the rank of Eta-Gamma. Wildcard actually outranked him, although he wasn't sure how kindly he would take to any orders.

Outside, taking a deep breath of the crisp morning air (albeit with a hint of cinder from the day before) Wildcard found the city eerily silent. Understandable, given the situation. High in the sky the Magnificent loomed high over it all, standing as a bulkwark against anything that could threaten it. Wasting no time, he buzzed his wings and took off upwards.With a glance back at the city he gasped despite himself.

	No wonder it smelt like cinders

The griffons had apparently done more damage then was visible from the castle. Here and there buildings were entirely laid to ruin, and the palisade wall was beset with multiple huge holes. The drydock that had been built to provide more airships was, thankfully, intact. Mezza Luna had at the very least managed to prevent the griffons from destroying anything strategic- although Celestia's School for Gifted Unicorns was apparently on the list, having a wide gash in the side. So did the National Police Headquarters, for whatever reason. A few fires burnt here and there within the ruins, still waiting to be put down by the civil defense ponies. Canterlot, like Equestria itself, was wounded. It would come back though, it had weathered worst history then a simple raid. The griffons were nothing, the ponies would beat them in the end, he was sure of that. Whether Equestria would survive the sacrifice, only time would tell. 

Setting himself back to the task at hand he powered his wings a little more, enjoying the increased thrust his recent lack of holes gave him, grinning as he flew up in the morning sun. Flight was a gift that he savoured ever second of. 

Interestingly, as he flew up through the Wonderbolt patrol lines, he was never approached- instead he was met by a few shouts, and even a salute here and there. Wildcard snickered and put it in the back of his mind, he had a job to do. 

He flew over the deck, and landed near the bridge tower. Before arriving he had gotten himself acquainted with the layout, but being there for himself was another thing entirely. The bridge tower was a sight in itself, several stories high. 

"Ey Wildcard!" Somepony shouted, Wildcard glanced back to see a pegasus hovering a ways away. A rainbow pegasus.

"I couldn't have done it better myself... well I could have but that was still pretty cool, lighting that guy up and stuff," She said, swooping over to hover over him.

He cocked his head, taking this in. "Wait, you all know about that?" He asked.

"Of course we do!" Rainbow Dash exclaimed, looking rather proud of her uniform. WING COMMANDER DASH emblazoned on the chest. "Who hasn't heard of Wildcard, 'the only changeling you can trust'?"

Wildcard snickered, opening the door with his rear hoof. "Wasn't it just a month ago you called me 'evil'?" He asked.

"Well.. you might be evil.. but your evil on our side, and that's what counts," She said, crossing her arms.

Wildcard grinned, as evilly as he thought possible. "Good, good! My plan is coming together perfectly! Now that I have gained 
your trust, Equestria will be mine- and then THE WORLD!" He screamed, following with a practiced evil cackle. 

Cackling 102 was one of his best classes back in school. The trick was to just let it flow.

Rainbow Dash stared down at him, seemingly unimpressed. "I've seen better, we fought a guy once that just yelled about crystals for a whole day, you've got nothing on that," she said.

Wildcard sighed, slumping back down in defeat. "Fine, I'll just practice a bit before I take over the government through mind control, or something," He said, with a cocky grin back upwards. 

"I've got business upstairs, don't you have a wing to command?" Wildcard asked.

She stuck out her chest with pride. "Second Interception, we've got the best CAP score in the whole fleet," She said, close to bursting with that pride.

Wildcard paused for a second. "You seem to be taking this well, I didn't expect to see a pony take so naturally to war," He noted.

She just looked down at him. "Why not? They came for us, we're sending them back. They knew the risks- as you say," She said.

Wildcard nodded. "If the rest of you can understand that, you'll have no trouble at all out there. I'll see you later- Wing Commander," Wildcard said. With a sharp salute Rainbow Dash flew off, and Wildcard entered the bridge tower.

It had a lot of stairs, and upon reaching the top he paused for breath. He hadn't realized it, but all that cider and sitting around- not to mention government meals, had put him out of shape- except for his wings. Flying across the continent had kept those strong, but the rest of him...

He sucked in his gut, noticing that he couldn't, and made a mental note to start jogging or something. Putting that to the back of his mind, he adjusted his coat and opened the steel door that led to the bridge.

"Amba- Duke Wildcard!" Spitfire addressed as he closed the door.

"Air Martial, you seem oddly pleased to see me," Wildcard said on seeing her smiling figure in the captains seat.

"I keep up with the news, Wildcard. You killed one of your own yesterday to protect Canterlot, you've earned my respect," She said, offering a salute.

Wildcard returned it. 

"That's good to hear, but I'm still a civilian as far as I know- I didn't see any guards on the way up, security seems a little lax up here," He noted, gesturing back at the door.

Spitfire laughed. "No less then a dozen squadrons saw you come up, and Rainbow Dash reported your arrival too. I see everything, it's just not obvious," She said.

"I like it that way," She added, and pointed over to what Wildcard assumed was the communication station. A pegasus sat at a teletype with a headset on them, babbling away in the language of military jargon.

"Have a seat, and we'll get underway. They're all ready in the south, it's going to be a big day," She said, and spun the chair back around.

Wildcard took his place, and as Spitfire got the ship underway he settled in. She was right, it was going to be a big day. The full force of Equestria would be unleashed today, the real war would begin. 

"Baltimare in three hours Air Martial," The helm announced.

Three hours.

	
	
> Arc: Trial By Fire
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Baltimare, August 23rd. The greatest city in Equestria, as far as its natives thought. A city of peace, tranquility, and easy living by the ocean. Supported a bustling fishing business, a busy dockyard, and a thriving entertainment industry. It was said that in the bay, when the moon was just right, you could see mermares dancing in the calm waters. Thanks to pegasi and alicorn weather/tide management, the city never even saw major storms. 

Two months of continual warfare, however had changed the city from its former; beautiful, self. Baltimare was now little more then a ruin; a dozen kilometer wide mess of burned out and collapsed buildings. The pristine parks that dotted the city were full of wrecked airships and the detritus of war. The trees had long since burnt, and the grasses had shared their fate. It was a grey, desolate, nightmare of warfare. In this setting twenty thousand of the finest ponies Equestria had ever seen had slowly driven back the griffons, block by block, week by week. The fighting was a vicious brawl made all the more so by the fact the city was devoid of civilian life, and so it was a no-holds-barred fight building to building. Griffon missiles rained down for the first couple of weeks, doing little more then shift piles of rubble around, until being silenced by the Wonderbolt Phoenix bombers. That had given way to a hammering from the Magnificent's cannons, before being ordered to halt so that 'some semblance of the city's former self may be salvaged from this ruin'. Hundreds had lost their lives on both sides, which only steeled the remainder to their duties even harder. While the leadership had deliberated, and held meetings behind closed doors that sought to plan the future, it was here that the war itself was being fought. 

Today, overlooking the dockyards that remained the last holdout of griffon solders, these twenty thousand formed up and prepared to go in. They knew not what they would encounter, they only knew that whatever it was- it was going to die. Each and every single one of them had a rifle- along with the traditional pike on their back. The unicorn squads wore Gatling guns on their backs to compliment their already powerful magic, and the Wonderbolt fleet hung overheard ready to call down the hammer on any fortified positions, although they had orders not to do so unless there was no other option. Today, Celestia willing, would be the first and greatest victory of the newly founded Marine Corps.

Flash Sentry arrived at this ruin, early in the morning, with his new friend 'Fang'. Celestia had decided that was a better formal name when she had him sworn in as a citizen yesterday. So it was then, that the second changeling citizen of Equestria went to war for that country, while the first did his own duty in the background. Unbeknownst to him a hundred of his fellows would be fighting today, eager to settle a score with the griffons.

Standing at the 'rail station', which was actually just a legion checkpoint on the outskirts the city. Flash beheld the scene. A sea of tents in a field, with the city itself covered by a thick fog of dust beyond. In the distance a storm was brewing- bad weather was another result of the war, with weather pegasi only focusing on stopping extreme weather. Anything less then a tornado was declared 'safe', and ignored. 

"Sweet Celestia, what have we gotten ourselves into?" He mumbled, staring at the 'city', and hefting a bag of belongings over his shoulder. All he had to his name was a few hundred bits and a change of clothes, along with some identification.

His partner, Fang, had his citizenship papers with him stuffed in the pocket of the smallest uniform they could find. It fit him well enough, hoof stitched too, lucky. Flash's was machine stitched, and a little itchy. He really missed the armour, it felt a lot safer to have a skeleton of steel around yourself. The logic of abandoning it was obvious- good luck trying to move around quickly in heavy armour, but still. They had shifted from being burnt in their armour, to being cut up by gunfire or griffon claws. 

Flash shuddered, leading his friend down the empty lines of tents while he glanced around. They had come with the resupply train, and Flash had done some reading. It was not a pretty situation out here, griffons put up an incredibly tough fight on the ground, attacking in groups with nothing but their claws. They had long since run out of fuel for their flamethrowers, but that didn't make them any less deadly. When the brass realized this, they ordered a return to the armour. The problem? Griffon claws can cut through it.

Other then the sound of the workers unloading supplies, which slowly faded into the distance, there was a eery silence over everything. A gentle breeze brew through from the coast, and the low rumbling of a distant late-summers storm echoed through, but no sign of life. Flash knew he was safe here, but an intense feeling of unease came over him nonetheless.

Fang apparently felt the same, shuddering and meeting his friends side. "It's creepy out here, like a graveyard," He said.

Flash shuddered, his friend was more correct then he knew. Every day a few dozen had lost their lives, their names relayed through the papers as a stark reminder of the situation they found themselves in. Gone were the days when Celestia or some magical power could solve their problems bloodlessly, gone were the days of the easy victory and gluttonous peace. Equestria fought for its survival now, and it was a gruesome fight. "Wing's Reach by Hearths Warming" was the official line, but given the forces aligned against them, even with Zebra help, that seemed like a naive hope. 

He sighed and shook his head. Whatever happened to the worst problem being local, quick, and wrapped up neatly by the end of the week?

Onward they walked, coming out of the tents and into the houses outlying the city itself. They remained silent, with eyes glancing around for any threat in the empty houses. The only sound was the gentle breeze, and the squeak of Flash's wheeled prosthetic leg. The windows seemed to leer at them, and Flash was relieved to find a heavily armed checkpoint before the entrance to the city centre, armed with a large anti-air cannon behind sandbags. The apparent leader sat with his hooves up in a small guardpost, while his comrade sat idly at the gun. Flash waved and shouted hello, which was apparently a mistake as the guards came to attention and swung the twin barreled cannon at him. It did not look very friendly from this angle.

"Halt! This is a restricted area, who are you and what is your purpose?!" The lead guard demanded, a terrifying scraping sound coming from the gun as it leveled with Flash's head.

"Sergeant Sentry sir, I'm a transfer!" Flash said. unable to hide his nerves. Fang clutching his leg and shaking didn't help.

The lead guard looked at his comrade at the gun, who shrugged in return.

"Transfer? We don't get any transfers soldier, under who's orders is this?" He asked.

"General Masse, sir! I was given the option of going south or going east- I went east!" Flash returned.

The gunner peeked to the side of his gun and cocked his head at them.

"You actually chose to come out here?" The lead asked incredulously. 

"Son you're either stupid or brave, and we need both," He said, and nodded to his partner. The gun pointed back at the air, and Flash let out a breath of relief. He pulled Fang out from behind him and regained his composure, trotting towards the checkpoint down the road.

The gunner silently watched him from his post, looking at them the same way one might look at a pony walking into hell.

"I suggest you find General Pike and talk to him, he's running the show now," The lead guard said, offering a salute. "Good luck out there son, you're gonna need it," He added.

Flash met his salute. "Thank you sir, I've come a long way to be here, I'll see the griffons back home myself," Flash said.

The guard laughed, and then looked over Flash more closely, noticing his lost leg. 

"What happened to your leg son?" He asked.

"Lost it in Manehattan sir, black friday," Flash replied. The guard nodded.

"I see, must be itching to get back at those mules then. Give em hell," the guard said.

"Yes sir!" Flash replied, and left the checkpoint with Fang at his side into the city. The guards didn't seem to notice or care about him, probably thinking he was some sort of courier. Flash didn't have the heart to tell him his uniform was that of a colt scout courier, blue and white instead of the dull green and brown of the regular legion. He didn't seem to notice, and had commented he thought it looked 'good', so that was that.

Once again silence descended on the pair like a fog of unease. The morning sun came through the thick smoke of war, bathing everything in a soft orange light. The tall buildings of the city had mostly been toppled, leaving them to trot through a maze of debris and war detritus. The ruin was so total that one could barely tell whether they were standing in a street or what had once been a building, or if one could- which had come first. Flash was fairly certain they stood inside a ruined toystore when he decided to take a break and snack on an apple or two. It was a surreal setting, but about the only relative shelter they had seen. Outside the wreck of a small airship was embedded in the ground, a rusted gun turret marking its grave. 

How could anything recover from such total annihilation? Baltimare was dead, its corpse would remind them forever of this dark time- there was no way Equestria, or its people, could ever return to the naive peace they had before. The innocence was lost.

Fang sat looking out as well, both of them eating their share (Fang had brought a bag of Hive Mushrooms he managed to find in Canterlot), in silence. It was an interesting thing, members of two races that had been in a perpetual un-declared war for as long as either could remember, sharing a meal in silence as they faced a greater evil together. Flash looked at the little changeling, and patted his head. They savored their peaceful meal, both knowing in their hearts it would be the last they would have in a very, very, long time. 	

Once they had finished, with one last savouring of the silent peace provided, they set out on the last leg of their journey. The closer they got to the docks, the more they noticed discarded weapons and round casings. Overturned makeshift barricades and sandbags were strewn about, the walls etched with bullet holes. Flash wasn't stupid, and it painted an ugly picture of the griffons fighting harder and harder as they fell back. Today was the final offensive, and not even Celestia could know what awaited them in the docks. 

Why the docks anyway? Flash pondered, Fang under his wing as they walked through the cratered streets, wind howling through buildings looming over as skeletons of a once a great city. The docks weren't of any major strategic interest, there had been no griffon reinforcements or any sightings of surface fleets, and Equestria didn't do too much trade on this side of the continent. Fillydelphia filled that role now, and quite a few of the refugees had started moving there. Equestria didn't care about the docks themselves, but rather the fact that the griffons happened to be holding out there. Why hold out, why not retreat? There was no hope to survive the massed force against them, but they stayed all the same. They were either suicidally bent on fighting to the last, or it was a trap. Neither was a nice thought, and the marines had to go in regardless. 

Perhaps high command knew something he didn't, or else the griffons knew something neither did. They had a way of surprising them all, nobody had expected this in the first place after all.

He held Fang close, and finally they could hear the sounds of ponies in the distance. Soon they came upon another checkpoint- It was unmanned, which was rather disconcerting. Apparently the brass really had massed everything. As he trotted past Flash took a glance at the mean looking anti air gun. Two months ago nothing like this even existed, yet here it was. Here it was, and it wasn't even the biggest gun Flash had seen.

Past the checkpoint they finally were relieved to see the some sign of life, marines here and there chatting idly to themselves in the shadows of ominous buildings. The sea was visible through them, the storm in the distance drawing closer. Flash had been to the academy, and he knew it was far too late to stop that storm even if the pegasi wanted to. Weather control was as much an art as a science, with the trick always being to act early.

A flash of lightning said that it was anything but early. It was far enough out that it would probably fade before making landfall, but it was still an ominous sign. It wouldn't effect the Wonderbolts at all, thankfully- they could simply head above the clouds. Losing the support of the fleet...

Actually thinking on it, it wouldn't matter. They had been ordered not to use their artillery on the ground for whatever reason, and were only here to scare off any griffon reinforcements as well as pick up the marines as soon as the all clear was given. From then on the city was in the hands of the legion, and the marines would head east with the Wonderbolts. 

"You hear that?" Fang asked, startling Flash from his introspection.

"Hear what?" Flash asked, pausing to look around. All he heard was the idle chatter of a few ponies, and the sound of the sea.

"Sounds like music, coming from that way," Fang said, pointing down the debris littered road. A ways down Flash could see a wooden palisade.

"Well let's check it out then, maybe we can figure out where the General is there," Flash said, and led his friend towards it.

On the way Flash did notice the music, there was the faint but growing sound of what seemed to be classical music coming out from behind the wooden fence. Arriving at it Flash found a gate, and with an uneasy glance to Fang whom was still glued to his side, pushed it open. 

Inside he was shocked to find a spotless building- from the first floor down- behind a clean street and sidewalk. It was like in this ten meter square nothing had ever happened. Around the pavement of the street a few tables were set up, decorated officers relaxing and talking amongst themselves. One of them- a rather ancient looking unicorn mare- noticed Flash, and glared at him over her shoulder.

"Officers only kid, unless you got business- beat it," She growled.

"I'm here to see the General, along with my partner, sir," Flash said, pulling Fang reluctantly forward. 

"Name and rank," She ordered.

"Sergeant Flash Sentry, my partner has no rank- we're both transferring in, sir," Flash said.

She snorted, and whispered something in a nearby colleagues ear. He looked back at them, with a familiar look of both slight respect and wondering if they were insane.

"General's inside, " She said, gesturing towards the entrance to the building. Flash noticed a banner- UNDER NEW MANAGEMENT- over the glass doors. 

"Thank you sir," Flash said, and gave a sharp salute before pulling leading Fang to the doors. What they found inside was what looked to be a hotel lobby, with rows of chairs assembled in front of the lobby desk, which had a large board installed behind it. An enormous Equestrian flag hung from the rafters and reflected off the marble floor, filling Flash with a sense of patriotic pride. He was here, finally, to do his part for his nation. 

"It's.. really clean," Fang noted, glancing around. 

"Officers must be using this place for themselves," Flash said, and noticed a board over a door to his right marked 'management'. He gestured over.

"Seems a good place to start," he said, and led Fang over.

A rather heated conversation appeared to be taking place inside, and they did their best to be quiet so they could hear. The loudest voice was a young mare, Flash knew it but couldn't quite place it. She appeared to be arguing with the general.

"... I can't let you do that! The risk of-"

"... General it's not up to you. Luna might be the Queen, but I'm still a princess. I'm going down there to help, and I'll have you court martialed if you get in the way," She threatened.

They paused outside the door and shared an uneasy glance, entry seemed a poor idea at the time. Flash gestured to the door, Fang refused.

They didn't have to fight about it for long, as it swung open into Flash, knocking him against the wall. The Twilight Princess strode out, her head held high as she departed with two armored centurions on either flank. 

Peeling himself out from behind the door Flash watched as she slammed the lobby door behind her and took wing outside, Fang struggling to contain his laughter. Flash sighed, the universe seemed hell bent on having him always look a fool when he met her. It's not like he expected to ever get anywhere with a member of royalty, savior of Equestria multiple times, and a semi-divine alicorn. It's just that he would really appreciate not looking like a total idiot.

With a glare that silenced Fang, he shuffled around the door and peeked inside. The general was at a desk covered in papers, with a map behind him and a teletype plus radio on a desk beside. His uniform hung on a rack beside the doorway. Flash knocked on the doorway to get his attention. The general himself was an older stallion, with an orange coat that might have at one point been the same colour of Flash's at one point, and a short grey mane that had a few of its original green hairs here and there. 

"Better be important, we're moving out in less then an hour," The general said, not looking up from his work. 

"Sir, Sergeant Flash Sentry reporting for assignment, Sir!" Flash addressed, saluting smartly. Fang repeated this at his side. 

Now he looked up, tenting his hooves as he looked over the two. 

"Legion? I'll take what I can get- I don't need any couriers though," He said, peering down at Fang.

Before Flash could explain, Fang pushed forward and put his forehooved on the desk, staring at the general. 

"I'm not a courier! I'm a changeling warrior, and I'm here to fight!" He shouted, the general looking at him with a bemused expression.

"Changeling warrior huh? I think I got a memo about that earlier- shouldn't you be in special operations or something, with the shapeshifting and all?" He suggested. Fang fell back and stared at the floor, seemingly ashamed of himself. 

"He can't shapeshift, Sir," Flash explained. 

General Pike sat back in his chair, leaning his head back as he put the pieces together. 

"I get it now," He said, leaning back forward. "The hive kicked him out because he can't shapeshift, and you want to make a name for yourself on the front. Thus I get the only two volunteers I've ever seen- granted I've only been here a day," He said, and glanced at his watch.

"Alright, here's the deal: you're going to keep your rank, he's a private. I have no time to assign you to a squad, so just find yourselves equipment and make yourselves useful out there today," He said, slipping out of his chair. 

"Yes Sir, thank you sir!" Flash said, raising a sharp salute. Fang repeated all this, but markedly quieter then the trained soldier beside him.

General Pike met the salute. "Good luck out there, Sergeant," He said. 

With Fang at his side, Flash strode out of the office. 

"We're in," Flash said, glancing down at the grinning changeling. "Now let's show them what a three legged pegasus and a changeling can do. 

Fang buzzed his wings in excitement, as a roaring sound from above rose over the rumbling of the distant storm. 

The Magnificent had arrived.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Wildcard anxiously sat through the journey. Battle itself was a terrible cacophony of horror and destruction, but it was the periods in between battle that filled the majority of a war's time, and the anxiety ran deep. He went over the possibilities of what was coming, having paid attention to the comms officer beside him. Her name was Leftenant Morse, and she was incredibly good at her job. She was like a machine, capable of relaying huge amounts of information though military jargon verbally while also deftly managing the teletype. 

From what Wildcard could gather the griffons had a force of around 500 remaining in the docks. If this tenacity could be expected from all the griffon forces, the Equestrians were in for a rough ride indeed. 500 of them, with no hope of reinforcement or supplies, were holding out against a massively larger, better armed, force backed by exceptional firepower and nearly unlimited supplies. Suicidal loyalty was something Wildcard knew well- it's how all warriors were trained. This seemed to accomplish nothing though, they would be swept aside like nothing. They were willing to die despite knowing it was ultimately frivolous, Wildcard didn't know whether to admire the loyalty or feel bad for them. 

"Thirty minutes out, You can see the city on the horizon," Captain Northstar said. 

Wildcard and Spitfire both left their chairs to stand in front of the large window. Thick glass subsected by steel, it was as nearly as strong as the steel armour- nearly.

Wildcard whistled as he looked at the city. It looked almost like a toy model that somebody had stepped on, and a thin smoke hung over it. Griffons really had done a number to the place, if it was up to Wildcard he would have the whole place abandoned to nature.

He also noticed a storm on the horizon, and turned his head to Spitfire as he pointed at it.

"I wouldn't worry," She said, staring forwards herself. "Weather patrol says it'll die down before reaching the coast, worst storm I've seen in years though." 

Wildcard nodded and turned back to staring out the window. It was amazing how high they were. It was so high that your mind almost abstracted it, and the silent smooth movement of the ship added to the surreal feel. It was less like flying, and more like looking down at a map of the world. It made you feel like a god. 

While Wildcard pondered this, staring out the window intently, Spitfire turned and cleared her throat.

"Alright everypony, geography lesson. Griffons live on islands, islands to the far east of where we are now. Can anyone name the closest island to Baltimare?" 

"Waylay ma'am, 500 kilometers east," Captain Northstar said.

"Correct, Waylay. Waylay is where we're going to be tonight, and no force great or small will stand in our way. Make sure all of our weapons are ready, and keep the Phoenixes on alert status. Load for anti-ship, Queen Luna has ordered no ground bombardment," Spitfire ordered.

"Aye Aye," The weapons officer replied, rising from his seat beside a machine where he could keep track of which guns were loaded, and with what. "But why no bombardment?" He asked.

"General Pike wants a surface fleet, and Baltimare has the only remaining major docks after Black Friday. We're going to be babysitting until they're done down there, just gotta keep the griffons off them," she explained.

"You got it air martial, I'll inspect the guns personally," He said, and left the bridge with the door clanking behind him. 

"Wildcard, could you come see me in my quarters?" Spitfire asked. Wildcard cocked an eyebrow as he turned from staring out the window, his ears perked up at the suggestion- along with his tail.

She glared back at him. "Didn't you just get married wise guy? Besides, I can do better," Spitfire sneered coyly.

Wildcard frowned, his tail drooping likewise, quite aware of the muted chuckling of the bridge crew as he followed Spitfire past them to her quarters attached to the bridge. Closing the door behind them, Wildcard took a quick look around, the room was mostly bare except for Spitifires neatly organized desk, with a hat rack beside it. Behind her chair was a portrait of a historical figure- Commander Hurricane. Wildcard had thought the last one had been destroyed long ago, it must be priceless. Elsewhere a display case of the many medals Spitfire had collected over her career was the only other adornment. 

"Last one in existence, been in my family for a long time. I like to think we're doing him proud," Spitfire said, settling into her seat and gesturing to the chair across.

"I'm sure you've got some wisdom to share before we go in, so share it," Spitfire ordered as Wildcard sat himself.

"Well, I haven't been on assignment on the griffon islands myself, but I do my homework. Their society is organized into several different houses, ranging from size and power from tiny village holdings to houses that control whole islands and thousands of soldiers. The largest and most powerful of the houses can declare its head to be the High King, and at any time any of the others can challenge this. They believe that whoever is able to head the strongest house has the support of their god, and that god rules them through him. This 'high martial' then has the near total loyalty of everyone, even if he is breaking with tradition by uniting the military of all the houses. I suspect his own house, or those allied with him, gave the others little choice," Wildcard said.

Spitfire nodded along. "We knew some of that, but not all of it. I'm especially interested by the idea some of the houses might not be as... fervent," She said.

"I'm sure if given the chance some of them would pack it in and go home- but with their military forces out here they would just be killed by, what I highly suspect, is some sort of secret police keeping watch at home," Wildcard said. "Imagine having everyone that could possibly hurt you hostage, with anybody that could possibly help them an ocean away stuck in a war," he added.

Spitfire considered this. "This isn't painting a pretty picture, if all this is right then we're facing an almost suicidally determined enemy," She said.

"You are, those 500 left down there prove it. It's going to get bad Spitfire, it's going to get to a point where everybody under you is going to scream for mercy and demand to go home. Don't give in," Wildcard warned.

"I won't, you have my word on that. This is do or die for all of us, I realize that as much as anyone else. We fall back, they return in greater numbers with a better fleet- and they won't stop with just razing a single city. They're leading us out over the ocean so they'll be fighting on fair terms, whoever wins out here takes the pot," She said.

Wildcard nodded, happy they were on the same page. "Good, If you can remember this, I'm confident you can beat them," Wildcard said, and had an idea.

"Hold on, remember what I said about great houses?" He asked. Spitfire nodded.

"If we can find a way to figure out which griffon units are parts of which house, we could target them specifically and sap their will to fight- if they risk losing their houses army it means that even if they win the war as a nation, their position at home would be weaker," Wildcard suggested.

Spitfire shot upright in her chair. "That's brilliant, if we pick on the right houses we might even get them to pull right out and lick their wounds, afraid that the others might take advantage of their weakness- we just need to figure out how," She said, filled with the frantic excitement of somebody that found their salvation.

Wildcard grinned. "Signals Intelligence- you've got an entire company up here. Find a way to crack into their communications, and harass certain houses specifically. I imagine they'll eventually get wise to this, but it could do a lot of good for us," he said.

Spitifire grinned as well, flipping on her shades. "They are going to rue the day they decided to fight us. They pushed us down, but we're back up- and we're going to do a hell of a lot more then just push them down," she said, slamming the desk with a wide grin and- to Wildcard's shock and awe- visible flames in her eyes. 

Wildcard sat there, stunned, and for the first time he felt bad for the Griffons. They had stirred a sleeping dragon from its slumber, and it was coming for them. 

She was also unbelievably attractive when in a fury like this, but he had enough will power to shove that to the back of his mind. Still, a part of him wished he hadn't been so hasty in getting married...

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Down below, Flash Sentry and Fang waited, having found their supplies. It wasn't very hard, a nearby warehouse had been converted to storage and Flash simply walked in and got himself a rifle and some ammo, and his partner a smaller sidearm. He also had some assorted supplies, rope and medical stuff, in his pack, and a pair of binoculars hung around his neck. Flash figured that since they were out of the main loop, they would do some lone wolf scouting and report anything they found. Getting stuck in the mainline fighting as a pair without a squad was suicide. He also made sure they both had boots, if it was going to rain then it seemed wise. He had left his bag in the logistics warehouse, shoving in a crate marked 'ship to Magnificent'. 

So they waited, sitting on a somewhat burnt bench at the edge of a square where, apparently, the forces aligned were to form up. At the far end was a hastily assembled wooden podium. with a flagpole hoisting an Equestrian flag above it that fluttered in the wind. It was rather torn, and had probably been moved around since day one. It had its back to the ocean, the approaching storm visible behind. It was dying down, but every once and a while a flash of lightning echoed its thunder across the bay. Which was odd, considering it didn't appear to be raining- and thunderstorms generally lasted not nearly as long. Squinting at it, Flash wasn't actually sure if it was approaching or somehow getting bigger while holding in place. This was neither here nor there though, and he put it to the back of his mind.

Twenty thousand ponies were assembling themselves in the square, all of them were like Flash- the original guard. They weren't drafted, they weren't reservists, they had volunteered long ago to serve their country in peace, and now at war. They were the most seasoned and expert professional soldiers the nation had, and every single one of them was going to be thrown at the griffons. The Magnificent was quite a sight, but the real force of Equestria was here, in all of them. Flash felt the feeling of being a part of something, something bigger then himself with a single solitary goal.

Make them pay.

They wouldn't settle just for defeating the griffons on the ocean, oh no. The griffons had destroyed two cities, attacked Canterlot, and stolen a precious relic. They wouldn't settle until Wing's Reach was occupied, and a total surrender given. They were in this for either total victory, or total defeat. 

Flash poked his partner and gestured towards the flag flapping in the wind.

"See that?" Flash asked.

"It's a pretty nice flag, what's the golden border for?" Fang asked.

"That means it's the flag of war, and we're going to put stick it on the griffon High Martial's grave," He said, grinning madly.

"You've gotten more serious over the last few weeks, Flash," Fang noted.

"I've come a long way to be here Fang, and they've done things to this country nobody else has. They took my leg, I'm gonna take their head," He said, and paused.

"You're right, I am getting too dark," He said, patting his colleague on the head.

"It's just how we were trained I guess, do you know what my instructor said on the first day of training?" Flash asked.

Fang shook his head.

"If you want to do well in battle, accept that you're already dead, and fight knowing that. No fear," Flash explained.

Fang shuddered. "That is dark, I had no idea ponies thought like that,' He said.

Flash pulled him close. "Normally we don't, but the last year hasn't exactly been normal," he said.

Near the podium a figure was barely visible, and as he came into view the collective army started to settle. A surge of high voltage anxiety went through the crowd, and all conversations gave way to the silence of the wind. As he came to to the podium, with that officer Flash had seen earlier at his side.

"Attention!" She shouted over them, and as one their training overrode their minds and they stood to attention.

She saluted the General, and fell behind him. A low rumble came from the storm, Flash noticed that it seemed to both be holding position and weirdly perpetually powerful, it should have moved to the city by now. 

This thought was cut off by the General starting his speech.

"Goood morning fillies and colts! A few of you know me from the old guard, and it's now fallen to me to lead you out there," He shouted over them, gesturing back at the ocean.

"We've got a new Queen everyone, and new orders coming from on high. Those orders are, to paraphrase for the less educated of you: send 'em home, and then burn their home down. We're not going to accept anything less then an unconditional and total surrender after what they've done to us, and does anyone know what that means?"

He paused, and then continued with a slightly harsher tone. "That means Equestria is counting on us to go all the way, and I expect the best from all of you. The new plan is to fight fire with fire, and we are the fire!" 

"Now, I want all of you to look down and find those lines in the square, form up," He ordered. Flash hadn't noticed it, but there indeed two lines that separated the square into thirds. The troops shuffled off the lines, forming three sections.

"The idea is simple folks. Left line, march up the 75th street bridge. Kill everything with two legs. Middle line, 60th street. Right line, secure this side, you're forming up the rear," He ordered.

There was a sigh throughout the right line as the others perked up.

"Attention!" The general yelled towards the right, angrily. "You will follow my orders to the letter, understood?" He asked, clearly threatening.

"Yes Sir!" The group shouted back.

The General turned to the other two groups, pointing at them. "Get moving, get it done, understood?!"

"Yes Sir!" Both groups shouted back, and started to move off. The general backed off and spoke with his second.

Flash turned to Fang. "So, where do you want to go?" He asked. 

Fang seemed to be staring ahead vacantly, not noticing. Flash prodded him and shot up startled. 

Flash pulled him down, "Didn't mean to startle you, scared?" He asked, concerned. 

Fang shook his head, "No, I'm just... anxious," He said. 

Flash wasn't convinced. "You sure? We could stay back here with the rear line, they've got it well in hand down there," Flash suggested. He spared a longing glance at the departing forces, but swallowed his pride. The chances of actually seeing one of the griffons was pretty low anyway.

"Could we?" Fang pleaded, doing his best to seem unafraid.

"Yeah, don't worry about it. We'll find something to do over here," Flash said, and came to all four, glancing around for something to do.

"I got it, they must have a communications station here, and I've got experience. We can help them, and get in the loop too," Flash said, and felt the faint flutter of wind as his comrades wings buzzed.

"You can teach me!" Fang exclaimed, excited at the prospect

Flash smiled, and led him off to begin their search. Glory on the field could wait another day, for now he had a friend to take care of. 

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"And they're off," Spitfire said from her chair, a commanding view of the city below. 

Thousands of ponies streamed out of a square a few hundred meters below, barely visible as a mass through the thin smoke. Wildcard stood before the glass, and felt a pang of guilt. Here he was, seasoned fieldman, standing above these brave soldiers and doing no more then watch them. A hundred of his own were down there, having entered the docks a few hours ago to do 'aggressive reconnaissance'- search and destroy anybody not on guard. He glanced back at the bridge crew- they all had a mission, and they each had a job. Was this what it meant to be a noble, stand around and look good, getting fat while they died?

If it was, he was having none of it.

"I'm going down there," He said, turning from the window. Spitfire looked at him with a raised eyebrow.

"You sure about that? I'm sure they've got it under control- but the griffons have thrown us curveballs before, it's bound to get dicey down there, and you aren't exactly in fighting shape," She warned.

"Then it's time for me to get back in fighting shape, I'm not going to become a fat, lazy, noble, not yet," Wildcard said, and steeled himself to his decision.

Spitfire smirked. "Fine, I won't stop you. Head to the armory first though and get suited up, I won't have you running around down there in a trenchcoat unarmed," She ordered.

Wildcard snapped a salute. "Aye Aye, Air Martial!" 

He left the bridge, the crew watching him with moderate respect, and with a fire in his heart. Maybe today he would bag another griffon. 

He paused and thought for a moment. What had happened to that one he stunned in the castle? In fact, what had Mezza Luna meant when she said they 'wouldn't see Wing's Reach again'? He had thought nothing of it at the time, figuring they would just... meet their end... but what if there was something deeper going on here?

He shook his head and added it to the pile of conspiracies, threats, war plans, and plots in the back of his mind. It was starting to get rather crowded back there, at this rate the entire world was going to end before the year was over. He wouldn't be surprised to find the gates of Tartarus had been opened, beings from another world were visiting, or maybe a crazed alicorn out of the independent states with god like powers would come and take over. Somepony with a name like "Inferno" or "Shadowmane". 

He laughed and pushed open the lower bridge door, leaving into the breezy air on the deck. It was pretty chilly this high up, and so close to the ocean, but he had a coat. Apparently this wouldn't do, and he strode along looking for whichever building was the armory. 

It didn't take long for him to find it, the armory was a bunker looking structure built into the deck, the door marked AUTHORIZED PERSONNEL ONLY. The image of two clashing swords embedded in the door was the universal symbol for such a place. Outside a lone, bored looking, guard sat on a stool contemplating the finer things in life.

"Hold on, what's your authorization?" He asked, looking over Wildcard. 

Wildcard paused, thinking. "Top," He bluffed.

"Top?" The guard said, staring into Wildcards deep blue eyes. 

"Top,"  he repeated, leaning in with an edge in his voice.

"Well... you are a duke I guess, so go right in. Sir," The guard said, stepping aside. 

Wildcard nodded at him and pushed open the door, making a mental note that he was going to have to impress upon the Wonderbolts the need for better security. The griffons weren't given to infiltration, but they weren't the only enemies Equestria had. Their trusting nature would be their downfall. 

At the bottom of a short flight of stairs was a vast dark room. Once Wildcard's eyes adjusted his jaw dropped with awe at the sight of it.

Racks of weapons lined the walls, mostly old style pikes or other basic pole arms and swords. The majority of the rooms volume was taken by vast shelves, lined with assorted weapons less then months old. Back mounted cannons, rifles, ammunition for days. They even had a good stockpile of grenades and other explosives. Wildcard strode down the aisles and looked along it all like a filly in a candy store. Taken by one of the cylindrical guns he had heard the unicorns using, he tried to pick it up.

That ended in failure, it seemed to weigh a good couple hundred pounds. With a sigh, and a prodding of his moderately enlarged gut, he looked further down the aisles and selected an officers sidearm with a holster that would fit to his leg. It was small, and much like the basic revolvers used down south (probably taking its design from them), but it would do. In any case he didn't expect to see any actual combat. He also quickly selected a uniform and helmet before departing. The changeling that walked out was indistinguishable from any other officer on the ground, his horn poking out of the brown helmet that matched the dark green/brown fatigues. A pair of grenades hung from a pocket, he figured he might drop them on a griffon head if he saw anything on the way down. In the pocket was a few dozen rounds for the gun, and he left his trenchcoat behind. 

Quickly striding to the edge of the ship, he looked towards the city dockyard below. As expected the ant-like mass of ponies was working their way in, sporadic gunfire and flashes of explosive grenades here and there. Their march forward was relentless, and every building was being thoroughly- and quickly- covered. The dockyards itself was mostly intact too, with luck they would have it ready to build surface ships almost immediately. 

To think, Chrysalis tried to invade this people once with a force a hundredth the size of what the griffons had. Had Shining Armour and his wife not used their magic the way they did, the changelings would be all but extinct. She was as foolish as she was arrogant, Wildcard would have to do something about that one day; they were still his people even if they were ruled by an idiot. Wildcard was gaining friends, prestige, and influence. Perhaps he could do the ultimate good for his people, and kill the fool before she led them all to their own deaths.

One war at a time, one war at a time, he reminded himself. 

As he looked down he saw something that horrified him- an arc of fire streaming out of one of the buildings below that send dozens of charging ponies running back (and a few not as lucky). When they formed back up the building itself exploded outwards in a huge fiery explosion that took everything with it.

"This was supposed to be a cakewalk, what the hell is going on down there?" Wildcard shouted to the air, vaulting the railing and swooping downwards. He flew directly towards the calamity unfolding below, but a volley of fire from below forced him to break off and reconsider. Glancing downwards he noticed a gleaming silver dish outside a tent near where the troops had formed up, and shot off towards it. Something terrible was happening down there, and he was going to find out what.

-------------------------------------------------------------------

Corporal Ren Excavo was down there, stuck in between a rock and a griffon flamethrower. He was cut off from his comrades by a pile of debris that had rained down on them, while ahead of him a griffon with a terrifying grin on his face was advancing with a flamethrower. He dove to the side into a doorway, and felt the heat of the flames shoot past. Checking his rifle, he only had two in the magazine. 

"You can't win!" Ren shouted out, hoping for logic to win the day.

Another arc of flame shot past, Ren tried the door. Locked, just his luck. 

"You misunderstand us little pony, we already have won. I can smell your fear!" The griffon soldier shouted down at him.

Ren had little choice, and aimed his rifle at the doorhandle. Closing his eyes and bracing, he pulled the trigger and with a deafening noise the wood shattered, allowing him to kick the door open and dive inside. Quickly putting his back against the wall, he chambered the last round and listened to the approaching footfalls. 

"Hey guys? I'm kinda stuck in here!" Ren shouted out, to no response. 

Then he turned his attention to the room, and his heart sank. It was stacked floor to ceiling with explosives. That explained what had brought the other building down, how many of these were there?

Ren glanced around the edge of the wall, and seeing the approaching shadow of the griffon soldier he swallowed his fear, gripping his rifle tight. Closing his eyes and taking a deep breath, he listened closely, and just as the griffon stepped into the doorway he spun around the edge, and fired. 

Clank

Ren's face turned a mixture of surprise and horror as the barrel of his rifle exploded outwards with a great noise, and he stumbled backwards with the force of it. The thick steel of the griffons armour was apparently too much for the small round. This, apparently, was why he had been told never to engage point blank. His face turned white, and he looked upwards into the devilishly grinning griffons eyes.

He shoved Ren backwards with his flamethrower, and leveled it at his head as Ren desperately crawled backwards.

"Time to die, little pony," The griffon said, and steadied himself to unleash a stream of fire. 

"Buck you," Ren spat, steeling himself to his end. He closed his eyes, and to his surprise the next thing he experienced was a heavy weight falling on him following the crackle of a half dozen shots.

Opening his eyes, the first thing Ren saw was the dead eyes of the griffon, whom he quickly pushed off himself. Behind him, was the greatest thing he ever saw- was Lieutenant Flintlock, his commander. Ren sighed with relief, happy to notice that he still had his back mounted gun, nothing could stop one of those.

"Thank you sir, I thought I was dead," Ren said, and noticed a wet feeling in his midsection. Looking down, he figured out where the round he had shot the griffon with went.

"Oh,"  he muttered.

"I won't let anything happen to anybody under my com-" Lieutenant Flintlock began to saw, and then noticed his comrades injury. His concern turned to horror when he looked past him.

"Ren, don't look now but I think we've got a bigger problem," He said, and stared past.

Ren rolled over on his back, and saw what his superior did. Each of the explosives had some sort of timer attached, and they had all activated at once. Ren quickly threw a timelock spell around them, and then noticed the time on each.

Two seconds.

"Ren, hold on, I'll get you out of here and we're all going to be fine," Lieutenant Flintlock said, reaching down to pick up his comrade.

Ren sighed, and pushed him away. "I can't keep this spell up unless I can see them, leave me," He said, his vision beginning to fade. 

"I can't just leave you here!" Lieutenant Flintlock shouted at him, but began to realize the hopelessness.

"Sir, run. Run and don't look back. I spent my whole life trampling on others trying to make my life better for myself, and now I'm going to give back what I owe. I'm going to make my father proud sir, " Ren said weakly, a tear falling from his eye to mix with the pool of his blood on the floor. 

"Ren, you're the bravest person I've ever met, I'll make them pay for this!" Lieutenant Flintlock shouted, and darted out the door. 

Ren closed his eyes, and felt the darkness closing in. It was a familiar feeling, and it was nearly painless this time. 

Returning to the infinite darkness Ren knew there was no going back, Once again he saw the emerging light, and felt himself approach.  A half minute later his strength gave out, and then a flash of pain and fire heralded the end.

What he saw was beautiful. 

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Flash Sentry had found himself the command tent, and inside was welcomed by utter chaos. Explosions in the distance echoed around, and screams of terror followed most of them. General Pike stood beside his communications officer frantically trying to figure out what was going on. His second stood outside, watching across to the dockyard island with a pair of binoculars, buffeted by the great wind.

"What do you mean they've got explosives, I was told they hadn't been reinforced! What the hell is going on out there?" He shouted. The comms officer looked up at him, and it dawned on him that this purple unicorn wasn't a comms officer at all. 

"I don't know general, it's total chaos over there," She said, and rose from the communications machine, shaking off the headset.  A burst of wind slammed into the tent, nearly knocking it flat.

She turned, and Flash was startled to be pointed out. "You, come with me," She ordered, and turned her gaze back to the general. 

"General, order a retreat," She ordered, and quickly strode out before he could argue. 

Flash saluted as she walked out before him, and tailed her to the edge of the waterfront. 

"We're going across. This is a trap, and we're going to make sure nobody else get's hurt, understood?" She ordered, looking across the bay.

The mare with the binoculars dropped them for a second and looked over. 

"That's suicide ma'am, intelligence really dropped the ball on this one, it's hell on earth out there," She warned, and returned to her watch.

"I am not going to stand around and do nothing, you two, on me, let's go," She ordered, and with her head held high marched towards the water. The ocean was stirred into a frenzy by the wind, slamming into the coast.

"Yes ma'am!" Flash said, and spared a glance at Fang. He seemed a little nervous, but otherwise okay.

Then Flash glanced up, and did a double take. They had been paying so much attention to the chaos across the bay they had neglected to notice the storm had moved right over top of them, but there was no rain- something was off.

"Your highness!" He shouted over the wind.

"What is it soldier?" She shouted back. Flash simply gestured upwards. 

She looked up, and halted so abruptly the others bumped into her. A flash of lightning heightened their distress as it slammed into the bridge, cracking it in half.

"This storm isn't natural!" Twilight shouted.

"Your highness!" Somebody shouted behind them. They all turned to see Wildcard struggling through the wind to approach them. "You have to get to safety! The griffons are creating this storm!" He shouted, and his warning was made all the more clear as another bolt slamming into a building a ways behind.

"How do you know that, they can't do that!" Twilight shouted, staring up at the sky. 

"Out there, in the bay!" Wildcard yelled over the cacophony of explosions and wind. 

When they looked out, sure enough there was a large vessel, around a kilometer or two out, somewhat concealed by fog. With the Wonderbolts forced above the storm, there was nothing they could do against it.

"We have to retreat!" Flash shouted, grasping Fang close. 

"I agree, if we stay we're as good as dead!" Wildcard added, coming behind them.

Twilight shook her head, and glanced back at them. "Protect yourselves, I have no idea what's going to happen!" She ordered, and her horn began to glow brilliantly. 

"Get down!" Wildcard ordered, and conjured a green shield around the trio. Ahead of them Twilight braced herself and leveled her horn out at the bay. Flash and Fang both hit the deck, covering their heads with their hooves. 

Wildcard chose to stand and watch, amazed at the power he was seeing concentrated. Her horn glowed bright and brighter, the energy so incredible that his fur began to stand on end. Apparently whoever was in charge of that vessel noticed this, and a lightning bolt flew directly at her. Wildcards horror faded instantly, as it seemed to only add to the power. After a good half minute had passed Wildcard saw the fog fade and the vessel try desperately to flee, but it was too late. 

Her Royal Highness Princess Twilight Sparkle unleashed a surge of energy that tore through the air with such power that the air itself burnt around it, and after only a second slammed into the griffon ship in the bay. The explosion that followed blinded Wildcard, and was swiftly followed by a magnificent shockwave that blew past, kicking up a wave of dust and debris that for several seconds pummeled his shield. Once it had passed, there was nothing remaining in the bay. Nothing except a column of steam and smoke rising into the sky, through a hole torn in the low clouds. 

Their attention turned to Twilight, whom didn't even seem tired by all this. She stood there staring out at the bay as the skies cleared, while they all stared at her with a mix of respect and horror. Behind her, across the bay, the marines had gotten the signal to retreat and ran across the bridges in a chaotic jumble as the rest of the buildings exploded, one after the other.

"I never meant for that to happen," she said. 

Wildcard had nothing to say: there were no words to express his awe.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Spitfire sat on the edge of her chair, trying to get a hold on the situation. The storm had moved impossibly fast, and had forced them to head above it for safety. A few dozen kilometers away the gleaming hulls of a griffon fleet stared at them.

"What's going on down there? Comms, give me a report!" She ordered, staring out the window intently.

"Griffons are armed ma'am, they're taking the docks down with them, and the General has ordered a retreat," Leftenant Morse replied. 

"They can't retreat! We can't let them have a foothold here, send a m-" Spitfire was interrupted in her order as a blinding light streaming into the ship, and was followed instantly by a calamitous shock and noise that shattered the windows of the bridge, throwing her off her seat. She grabbed onto it to avoid being flung around as the Magnificent swayed to its side. 

"Keep her steady!" Spitfire shouted, craning her head to watch Captain Northstar struggling with the controls. What she did was less of piloting, and more a graceful dance of knobs, throttles, and the great wheel. 

"I've got it ma'am, just give me a second..." She said, and the ship softly returned to stability. 

Spitfire pulled herself back into her chair, and with a quick glance was happy to see the bridge crew was fine, less a few bruises. 

"Damage report!" She ordered, keenly aware of the freezing air streaming in through the open window.

Leftenant Stiff Wing quickly looked over the ranks of lights at his station. "Only minor damage, a few broken windows," He replied.

"Good," Spitfire said, and looked forward out the window. The clouds below were dissipating, while a colossal tower of steam rose through a hole in them.

"What happened down there?" She asked, spinning to direct her attention to the communications officer.

He looked rather confused as he listened to the feed. "Uh... sounds like Princess Twilight Sparkle happened, ma'am,"  he replied.

Spitifire grinned and spun back to look forward. Finally, somepony started showing the griffons the real power ponies had. She peered ahead at the griffon fleet, and saw it turning to retreat.

"Oh no you don't!" She shouted, standing from her seat. 

"Doppler, are the Phoenix's ready?" She asked the flight control officer.

"Yes ma'am, a little battered but they report ready," She replied after a moments pause.

Spitfire sat back in her chair, and clacked her hoofs together. "Flank speed, Launch everything we have and order the fleet to engage at will.

"Aye aye!" Northstar and Doppler replied at once. Nearly immediately a wave of roaring missiles took off from beside them towards the retreating enemy.

Five minutes later the griffons found themselves at the bottom of the ocean.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Princess Luna grinned on the throne, reading the report she had just received from Baltimare. It detailed their victory, but at a heavy cost. They had lost thousands in the trap set in the docks, and would be without those dockyards for quite some time. However, the griffons lost an entire squadron of a dozen airships, as well as some sort of weather control device. The fleet was setting out, with its marine compliment, for Waylay island now, and would be there within a few days. 

The only thing that worried her was Twilight Sparkles reckless use of magic. She had potentially averted a military disaster, but it was a path that could lead to an even greater disaster if she wasn't careful.

Spitfire also mentioned a need for more of those missiles, which was highly odd. The Night Guard had produced dozens before they ran out of the materials needed, having been stockpiling rare minerals 'just in case' for some time. The report mentioned it had only taken fifteen to take down the griffon fleet, so where were the others?

She sighed, and whisked away the letter in a green flame. Down to her quarters it went, deep within the mountain.

Vizitane was waiting below, eager to hear the results of Equestria's first promised victory.

"Ambassador, you're correct- they did have a surprise for us. We won the day nonetheless," Luna said.

"Ah, very good. I'll be happy to report that to the Emperor, and we will begin military operations in the south immediately. With the griffons attention split in twine, we should win this quickly," He said.

"I have something to add however, and I'm afraid it will add a damper to your positive spirits. Our intelligence is rather certain the Saddle Arabians are going to be making an attempt to use the chaos currently to take a prized bit of land from us, and we cannot allow that. Thus I must decrease the promised force by half, for now," He added.

Luna frowned at him. "Very well, you do what you need to do. Bear in mind that the less help we receive, the less we may be willing to negotiate certain boundaries in the future," she warned.

Vizitane laughed. "Don't try and hide your threats behind meaningless words, your highness. If you want to tell me that any less force on our part will result in less land in the south, just say so. I've been at this a long time you know," he said. 

Luna's frown turned to a glare. "I have too, ambassador. I remember when your 'empire' was a single city on the coast with delusions of grandeur. I will outlive you, and everything you build or hold dear. I will see your empire crumble into dust, so don't toy with me, ambassador," She warned again.

Vizitane looked at her, respectfully. "Well spoken, and understood. You're much better at this then your sister, you should really consider staying in power," He suggested. 

Before Luna could hurl more fire at him for daring suggest that, the door opened, and in strode her sister. Just behind her, not matching the smile of Celestia, was Mezza Luna.

Vizitane bade a hasty exit and a hastier bow, leaving the trio in the room. 

"Good afternoon sister, I assume you got my message?" Luna addressed, smiling warmly down at her sister. 

"I did indeed, you said you 'wanted my presence as you announce our great victory to the people'," Celestia said, weaving through the cables on the floor. 

"Good! And Mezza Luna, such good timing! You should be here as well, watch and learn," Luna said, gesturing her sister sit beside her. 

Celestia did so, while Luna's second took her place off to the side a bit, silently watching. Luna noticed this, and was rather amused.

"You don't need to act so serious all the time, you're even starting to make me worry," Luna said.

Mezza Luna remained silent, Luna rolled her eyes and turned to her sister. 

"Was she always this dark?" Luna asked.

Celestia nodded. "She takes after you, or at least she thinks she does," Celestia replied.

Luna sighed, and turned her attention again to her second. "Learn to come out from the dark once and a while, or it will consume you," she warned.

Mezza Luna made a greatly exaggerated bow. "As you wish, your highness," She said. 

Luna scowled down at her. "Remember your place! I will tolerate this sort of thing no longer!" She shouted.

Mezza Luna backed into the corner. "Yes, your highness," She said, markedly more respectfully.

Celestia turned to her sister, looking remarkably serious. "Did you read the note about Spitfires... logistical problem? There's something not on the level here sister, don't let your love of the Night Guard make you blind to the truth," She whispered.

Luna sighed. "Fine, I'll look into it. For now, let's focus on the positive shall we?" She suggested, and gestured to the crew below. 

Celestia smiled. "As you wish, your highness," she said. 

A few minutes of preparation later, Luna started her speech. 

"Good evening subjects, it is with great pride that I come before you to announce our first major victory. As of today, Equestria itself is free of the griffon threat, and our brave defenders are taking the fight to our enemy. This victory was not without cost however, as a great many heroes made the ultimate sacrifice for Equestria. Rest assured that we will see the griffons face justice for the crimes they have committed against us. I will not rest until their war machine lay in ruin and this 'high martial' faces justice for his actions. Today marks the first day of true war, and I expect the best from all of you. We will charge into the darkness that has kept us in fear for so long, and we will destroy it utterly. Together, as Equestrians, we will prevail."

Spitfire sat up her desk, flicked off the radio, and looked out the window. There in the distance, with the setting sun behind it, was Waylay island. Tomorrow they would begin assault operations. It was going to be a long, long, day. Down in the hull of the ship Flash Sentry and his mother re-united over a bit of cider, and shared stories of their adventures that day. Tomorrow he would be part of that assault, there was no escaping it. 

Meanwhile Wildcard arrived back at Canterlot, and found Lyra had managed to get a rather nice building in the centre of town, which appeared to have been a library at some point in its life. This worked well enough for him, and he settled in the back room with his desk. Lyra even hired a few staff of her own, and managed to rescue most of their work from the wreckage of Wildcard's old office. There was barely a hiccup in their operation, and they were shortly back to settling petty complaints while Wildcard tried to find some solid proof of Night Guard wrongdoing. Celestia did her own digging, helped closely by Wildcard's new wife First Class. 


Twilight Sparkle found herself in contact with one of the Night Guards, soon being given an 'offer' to come help them with a 'problem', intrigued, although a little suspicious, she decided she would follow up when she got a chance. She also had an idea that came to her that day, and spent most of her time at her home in Ponyville experimenting with a radio. If she was right, she finally found a way to make her mark. 

The time of peace and tranquility was now truly over, and Equestria was in open war. What the future held was uncertain to all involved.
> Background: T.M.S Magnificent
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------


Magnificent Carrier Class

BACKGROUND
The design was originally commissioned in secret by Night Guard Commander Mezza Luna in 965. It had the original purpose to eradicate the Hive Collective to the south. It and its collection of heavier-than-air fighters/bombers never saw action, and was mothballed in 972, after Princess Celestia discovered and vetoed the plan. Originally christened the H.M.S Magificent, the name was later changed to T.M.S shortly after Princess Luna re-activated it. However the original name stuck, and common parlance referred to it as H.M.S. The ascent of Princess Luna to the position of Queen Regent further confused this. Air Martial Spitfire notably referred to it as the H.M.S, and never changed the designation officially. 
Government: Principality of Equestria
Ship Type: Prototype aerobattle flagship
Class: Magnificent
Manufacturer: Classified
Crew: 2,038 total permanent, room for 500 additional.

		Command Tower: 30, Plus eight bridge officers
Pilots: 300
Wonderbolt Flyers: 500
Wonderbolt Auxiliary: 500
Non-Pegasi Crew: 200
Marine Contingent: 500

Notable Ships of Class:
T.M.S. Magnificent: It served as the command and control centre in most military situations during the Great War, leading the charge toward the home islands of the Griffin Empire.

SPEEDS:
Full thrust: 135 km/h.
Maximum Range: 3,547,800 km over 3 years (estimated 3 month supply load)

STATISTICAL DATA:
Length: 560 meters
Girth: 200 meter diameter
Weight: 355,000 metric tons (core weight) / 860,000 metric tons (standard)
Armor: 10 meter thick laminated titanium
Propulsion:25 steering propellers, 5 combined drive propellers
Power System: Alicornium-based Pressurized Water Reactor
Auxiliary Power System: Petrol engine on each propeller. 
Radar System: TRS I (Twilight Radar System I)

WEAPON SYSTEMS:
LUNAR-CLASS CANNONS (16): [two at bow and stern, six along each broadside]

PRIMARY PURPOSE: anti-ship warfare
SECONDARY PURPOSE: fortification bombardment
RANGE: 6.5 km
DAMAGE CLASS: capital/physical
RATE OF FIRE: 3 rounds/minute
PAYLOAD: 50,000 rounds (3,125 shells/cannon)


RETRACTABLE ANTI-AIR GUN TURRETS (50): [5 at bow and stern, 10 along each broadside, 10 along top and bottom]

PRIMARY PURPOSE: self-defense
SECONDARY PURPOSE: anti-fighter warship support
RANGE: 840 meters
DAMAGE: medium low/physical
RATE OF FIRE: 100 rounds/second
PAYLOAD: 2 million shells (40,000 shells/turret)


SYSTEMS OF NOTE:
MULTI-DECK LAUNCHER AND STORAGE SYSTEM: This is the reason there is such a large mecha compliment aboard the Magnificent Class vessels on average. This system allows for the storage of 500 units at a time and can launch 100 units a given moment and have another 100 ready in less than a minute if already on standby. It is this system along with the slew of armaments that make this class one of the most feared in history.
CORE EJECTION SYSTEM: The core ejection system is for the explicit purpose of salvaging the alicornium core. If the ship is close to critical, the reactor can be jettisoned to keep the precious element intact.
RADIO COMMUNICATIONS: The standard communications array can communicate with multiple craft simultaneously at ranges of up to 32 km. This range can be boosted indefinitely by using radio-ready craft to relay communications.
RADAR: The radar array, a new technology created by Princess Twilight Sparkle, was not in the original design, but incorporated during the beginning stages of the Great War. Has a range of 30 km

COMPLEMENT (STANDARD):
Note: Complement during the war was vastly less then designed for, due to a resource shortage.
Transports: 100 (50 practical) 
W01 Phoenix: 70 (10 practical)
> Dialogue: The Meaning of Sunlight
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------




Celestia is an enigma wrapped in a puzzle. Where did she come from, who is her ancestor? How is it that a pony could get a talent mark of the sun, how would one discover that sort of destiny? I have lived on this earth for many hundreds of years, I have solved a great many mysteries and dispelled thousands of myths; but until now I have been blind to the question before me, the largest question of them all.
Who is Celestia?





Star Swirl the Bearded, 402 After Harmony. 


Celestia, Princess of the Sun; and millennial ruler of Equestria, powerful mage nearly beyond measure, keeper of the elements, bringer of harmony, founder of Princess Celestia's School for Gifted Unicorns, honored guest of The Emperor Of Zebranca, and last but not least: mare. 

The white, with a dabbing of pink, coated mare sat on a purple pillow, surrounded by books as the sun streamed into her 'office'. Her sparkling mane danced in the gentle breeze, this along with her height it was representative of her extreme age and magic power. Unlike most ponies of state she had no desk, nor any chairs or any sort of table. Instead she merely had that pillow, and a stack of smaller ones in the corner. Traditionally this was how all ponies had met, the 'bipedal fad' as she called it was only a recent development. A fad that she had seen before, back when the Crystal Empire was a separate state and ruled by it's own monarch. Celestia had seen empires rise and fall, Equestria bloom and wither, and a great many talented ponies come and go. She even had a few loves, and sired a few children lost to time- but not to her. She remembered it all, and would continue to remember into a time when the castle she lay in crumbled to dust, and every drop of water in the ocean filtered through the rain a dozen times. 

A thousand or so years ago she sought to change the patterns of history she had seen replay time, and time again, through putting her efforts towards the mentoring of a protege. Dozens of these had come and gone, either through terrible tragedy or giving in to their own power hunger. Twilight Sparkle was the first to truly succeed, but along her ascension had come a period of incredible chaos. Nightmare Moon had returned, to be saved from her own insanity and returned to being Princess Luna. Discord had risen, only to fall once more. The Crystal Empire had returned with it's evil tyrant, only for him to be cast down into the depths of eternity. Star Swirls spell had even finally been completed, and shortly after the elements of harmony returned to their former home. 

The connection between all of these events was Twilight Sparkle, repeatedly rising to save the nation. They faced a bigger threat now, one that could not be stopped by any single person. Whether she would prove herself, or ultimately fail, only time would tell. 

Mare

That too Twilight and Celestia shared in common. Deep down they were both only ordinary mares, born to ordinary parents and had led ordinary lives until destiny took them in its grasp. Once it had you there was no escaping, but sometimes, especially now, Celestia yearned to experience life as that which she truly is: just another mare.

She sat on that pillow, reading over one of Star Swirl's histories. She knew it almost by heart- she was there after all, but it was sometimes amusing to see his take on things. Always philosophizing, he wrote chapters and chapters on a meeting between herself and Princess Luna- declaring that it be representative of the struggle between the universal constants of order and chaos.

They merely had an argument over what to eat for supper. 

Celestia smiled and closed the book, putting it on the floor beside her amongst a dozen or so of it's brethren. Soon, as expected, there was a gentle knock on the door. 

"It's unlocked, come in First Class," She said, and a second later the door opened. 

She had often been asked why her assistant was a pegasus, and not a unicorn. The answer was that it was good to have a fresh take on things, and it was a reminder to all that the races were equal- even alicorns made mistakes. 

First Class trotted in, a stuffed saddlebag covering her blue coat. It did not however manage to distract the observer from a larger bump in the mid-section, she was nearly three months pregnant now. 

"I brought those books you wanted, had to go all the way to the Crystal Empire," She said, closing the door with a rear hoof. 

As she trotted onward, she glanced up and seemed to contemplate something.

"Celestia, why's it called "The Crystal Empire" if it has no emperor, and isn't even separate from Equestria?" She asked.

"That, my dear, is history. It was once a proper empire, with an emperor and even colonies- all of which are lost to time. So now it falls to us to protect it's citizens," Celestia explained, gesturing to an empty spot on the floor beside the other books.

First Class nodded, and trotted over to start unloading her delivery. 

"So, it's a province of ours, just like that?" She asked.

"For now, until they decide otherwise," Celestia said.

When she was finished unloading, First Class took out a small notepad from the same bag.

"Time for tea, what will you have?" She inquired.

Celestia considered it for a second, and an idea sprang to her mind. 

"Black, no sugar. Bring something for yourself, I want to talk to you about something." She said.

First Class nodded. "Sure, I'll get us some scones too," she said.

Celestia smiled. "You read my mind."

Fifteen minutes later exactly, First Class returned and served her sovereign tea, pulling up a short pillow for herself. Beside them was a plate of scones, and she eagerly awaited whatever her Princess had to say. This wasn't the first time she had a talk with Celestia, and it was always nice to know she cared.

"My dear, if you don't mind the imposition: what is it that brought you and the changeling ambassador together? I must say I was quite surprised at the development, and greatly pleased such love could bloom between you," Celestia asked.

First Class considered for a moment.

"He didn't treat me like I was royalty, just somepony special to him. He never tried to use me to get something from the government either, and believe me I've had stallions- and a few mares- try," She said.

Celestia nodded. "It must be nice to have somebody you can open up to. Just drop the act and relax, no political games, just two ponies," she said.

"It really is nice. He can joke about his Queen, and I can j-" First Class paused, and put on a face as if she had just admitted to a murder.

"And you can joke about your Princess, I understand," Celestia said.

She noted a slight flutter in her assistants wings, she was frightened.

"I mean no disrespect, and I.. uh..." She trailed off, hoping she didn't insult the Princess of the Sun.

Celestia gently covered her with a wing, and calmed her worried glance with a disarmingly warm smile. 

"Don't worry about it, nopony's perfect, we all make mistakes- which make for good humour" Celestia said.

"Except you," First Class added.

Celestia shook her head. "No. Princess Celestia is perfect- but I am not," She said. Now the real talk began, and Celestia hoped she could make it all clear.

"But... you are Princess Celestia..." First Class remarked, obviously confused.

"I am Celestia, just an ordinary mare that's been around longer than most. Princess Celestia however is a perfect bastion of wisdom and authority. Kind and caring, compassionate and always helping those in need. She, I'm afraid, is gone," Celestia said.

First Class was still confused. "Gone?" She asked.

Celestia levitated a scone up, and ate it.

"Gone," She said as she did, dusting herself with crumbs.

"When you think of Princess Celestia, who is that?" Celestia asked.

Still confused, but going along for the ride, First Class responded after a moment. "Just like you said, perfect. An authority, somepony we can all look up to. I kind of think of you as like, everyponies grandmother," She said.

"Now, if this Princess Celestia were to, say, hang a pony for treason- then what?" Celestia asked.

First Class considered, and then shook her head.

"She wouldn't."

Now we're getting somewhere.

"Not even if she had to, in order to save somepony else?" Celestia asked.

Another shake of her assistants head. "She would find some other way."

"So, Princess Celestia is unable to kill in order to save, but simultaneously unable to fail to save that pony. She's stuck, either way she fails. Princess Celestia however cannot fail, because she is perfect. So as soon as she fails, she dies," Celestia said.

First Class had a glimmer of realization in her eye. "The war..."

Celestia nodded. "Exactly. I'm not stupid dear- I could run this war the same way my sister is if I wanted to. If I did though, I would cease to be what I am- everyponies grandmother," She said.

"But by letting your sister run Equestria..."

Celestia's face turned to a frown. "Now you understand my position. If I become the warrior Equestria needs, then I lose what I am. If I fail to become the warrior Equestria needs, then I also lose what I am  I was unwittingly released from my prison of perfection by an impossible dilemma " She said. 

"You seem like you didn't like your 'prison'" First Class noted.

Celestia nodded once again, and took another scone. "It's a prison of my own design. I had long sought to create an image of perfection around myself so my subjects could have somepony to look up to, and a good many ponies such as yourself kept up this charade. In the end though, I am nothing more then a mare- and I make mistakes," she said.

"Do you know how we defeated Sombra?" She asked, and took a sip of tea.

First Class nodded. "You simply defeated him with magic after routing his army with the support of the Night Guard, whom were rather angry at his treatment of them before Princess Luna freed them," She said.

"Not exactly," Celestia said, putting the cup back down.

"Nightmare Moon is the alter-ego my sister uses when she wants to put the fear of herself into somepony. Most of you think of it as the reason she tried to seize power- but it's the result of, not the cause of, that idea. It was Nightmare Moon and Solar Flare that defeated Sombra, and it's why the Empire was lost," She added.

"Solar Flare?" First Class asked.

"Solar Flare, my own alter ego. I made the mistake of giving in to my hatred of that vile stallion, and through my own hubris thought I could use my power to seal him away. Instead he used us, and bent that power to his own ends- disappearing for a thousand years. I made a pact with myself never to make that mistake again, but that doesn't mean I didn't make it in the first place," Celestia explained.

"Doesn't your sister have the same problem?" First Class asked, noting with a frown she had lost the scone race.

"No, she's a different person then I. She is able to control her power for the most part, Nightmare Moon is just a parlour trick. Even she knows not to go too far, even if our definition of "too far" varies," Celestia replied.

"If sunshine burns, is it still sunshine?" She asked.

First Class merely cocked her head.

"No, it's sunfire," Celestia said.

"If I had chosen to fight this war, Princess Celestia would be replaced by Solar Flare, and the sunshine would become fire. I chose instead to admit my failure and allow my sister to lead, and now I am free from my prison, able to do whatever I want. The sunshine has faded, but it will return. Until then I am free to live my own life, and help Equestria in my own ways," She added.

"How will you help Equestria now?" First Class asked.

"You brought me those science fiction novels, right?" Celestia said, levitating one from the pile First Class had brought.

"I did, but why?" First Class asked.

"Sometimes you need to tell an incredible lie to find the truth. I've dabbled in writing for tabloids you know, as C. Sunspot," Celestia said, grinning at the mention of her alias.

"I don't think I understand, why would you write for.. tabloids?" She said, disgusted at the word.

"The Night Guard needs to be brought to account for what they're doing, my sister remains blind to it without tangible proof. With the Night Guard controlling the 'respectable media', I need to have a way to get somepony new, a nobody, interested. I'm going to cast a wide net, and see what I catch." Celestia said.

"You'll just end up with a nut that thinks the Earth revolves around the Sun, why not use the centurions?" First Class suggested.

"As soon as the Night Guard gets even a whiff of my suspicions, they'll be able to hide everything. If a nut is what it takes, then a nut is what I need. Somepony that nopony would suspect as a threat," She said.

"How can I help?" First Class asked.

Celestia levitated a small sealed letter to her. 

"You can mail this, my latest editorial, to the editors of Equestrian Weekly News," She said.

First Class grasped it as if it was plague-ridden. "What's it about?" She asked.

"It's a rant about myself, accusing me of secretly being controlled by an alien force- from outer space," She said, laughing at the idea.

First Class smiled, and put it in her satchel. "I'll mail it off right away, your highness," She said.

"Use your local mailbox, don't want the Night Guard catching on," Celestia warned.

First Class nodded. "Good idea, I'll see you when I get back," She said.

Celestia watched her depart, and then lay her head on the pillow. She was free from her confining role now, and it felt fantastic to confide her thoughts and problems, but there was still a war on. 

What would Equestria be like after the war, and what her role in it be? 

For this, she had no answer. Only time could tell. 

	


	
> Intermission: Welcome Home
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------




 Home is where the heart is, and probably where you keep your boots.



Star Swirl the Bearded, Undated.


Wildcard. Changeling ambassador by day, Equestrian duke by day, husband by night. Most of his problems in his life came from the obvious contradiction in the first two- how exactly was he supposed to represent a nation that he had more or less declared his allegiance against? He was no more a member of the hive then any other Equestrian pony, and he hated his 'queen' more then anyone else. She, he knew, was more then just their monarch- she was their originator. It was she whom had decided to create the hive entirely to fuel her own vain aspirations for power some five hundred years ago, rejected by Celestia in her tutorship. None of his fellows knew this, and only the ancient alicorn rulers of Equestria did on that side. He did, and he was able to see her with a clarity that no other changeling could. She was greedy beyond measure, and if she wasn't stopped she would lead them all to their certain doom. Wildcard still loved his race, even if he despised the one on top, and sought a way to somehow rescue them from her thrall. 

That was a challenge in itself. How would he convince them that their demi-god ruler; that had brainwashed them all into servitude, was evil? More then that, how could he even convince them that she was mortal? Even the defeat at Canterlot had been seen as not a failure of her, but a failure of the changelings themselves. She was perfect, and how could you hope to fight perfection? if he released the truth- that 500 some years she, as Crystal Star, had broken away from Equestria to artificially create the 'hive- would they believe him, or think he had gone rogue just like Zeta had not long ago?

These questions were what he pondered far more then his actual job in his new office, Lyra Heartstrings took care of most of the real work- alongside her new staff. He paid her very well, since his investments and dealings since coming to Equestria had made him quite wealthy. So long as the entire nation didn't collapse during the war, he would come out of it at the head of a new dynasty. 

That thought calmed his nerves, and brought a grin to his face. He was standing outside his new office, formerly a small library home to an assortment of modern literature that had been sent to the Crystal Empire as a gift, and beheld the city he called home in the evening light. 

Canterlot was bruised, perhaps even scarred, but it persisted. Here and there you could still see scorchmarks, or the outline of a patched hole on the street, and there was still rubble waiting to be cleaned up in some of the alleys. A good deal of damaged buildings had been cleared away, making room for what promised to be a significant boost to their industrial capacity. The Crystal Empire had a vast chain of foundries created by their ancient king in his rule, but even that was barely able to feed the demand of a full scale war. Luna had been rather quick in her decrees, taking most of the estates from, quote 'the upper corpulent class', and selling the assets. Those nobles she disliked found themselves at the front. She had also sent their private yachts to the Wonderbolts. The nobles grumbled, but they were few in number and with no real power, so they had to accept it. 

Wildcard now resided in one of these estates, paid for by his wife using his accounts. Luna made sure those that served her were rewarded, and this also had the effect of giving her leverage if you ever stopped serving her. She was a good leader, and Wildcard respected her greatly- he also feared her a little. She reminded him of his own queen, with the exception that Luna did what she did for the betterment of Equestria- Chrysalis only for herself. 

Now trotting down the chilly streets, with a trenchcoat over his body and scarf around his neck, he took some time to admire the falling leaves. It was September now, and the winter would surely be harsh. The pegasi were all busy fighting an actual war, which left their normal weather control duties vacant. They only worried about extreme weather, and maintaining the growing season in Middle Equestria for as long as possible.The rest of them were left to nature, and nature was a harsh mistress. Wildcard was used to the cold of winter, it gets rather cold in the valley The Hive resides in during the colder months, but the ponies had been used to a perfect three month winter, with only mild chills, for a thousand or so years. Luna had once been asked why she wouldn't just extend the day, her response was thus: "We are not the only inhabitants of this planet, nor are the griffons. I will not bend nature itself so we can have a slightly milder winter. My advice to you, dear sir, is to stock up on firewood."

Canterlot itself had a network of natural gas that could heat the buildings in the winter, and had in the past, but only the large cities in Equestria had such a thing. The smaller towns would have a tough time indeed, but they would survive. They would survive and go on to tell the tale, stronger through their hardship. The Equestria that rose from this would be a newer, stronger, Equestria.

And I'll be a Duke, with ties to it's leaders. Rich, a war hero, and with land holdings. 

Wildcard grinned. The future was bright indeed. 

He came out of the buildings of Canterlot out into the flat plain of the mountain behind Canterlot proper where most of the nobles had made their home. His was 118 Starswirl Lane, and it had recently belonged to...

He had actually forgotten, but it was no matter- it was his home now. His old room in the castle was nice, but out here he could truly be alone with his new wife, and soon they would have a child along with them. This thought turned his grin into a great beaming smile, he had come so far in only a matter of months. 

Trotting down the cobblestone road of the estates he glanced at them, most of which were empty with large "RE-POSSESED BY ORDER OF THE CROWN" sign hanging from iron gates. The police, thankfully not the Night Guard, patrolled the street here and there. They only cared about the "important" places in town. The Night Guard still came out at night though, and it was inadvisable to be out after sundown. Streetlights were posted here and there, but hadn't been turned on for a month due to gas rationing. He had replaced his own with a magic candle he lit every evening. It was a tiny gesture of defiance, but one nonetheless.

Soon enough he was at, to the delight of himself to think of it, the gate of his estate. Pushing it open with a quiet creak, and closing it behind, he saw his wife clearing the leaves with her wings a ways away. The area around the house itself was almost bare, he would have to plant a few trees in time. Not now of course, far too late in the year. Eventually he would build a home by that lake in the south, but for now this was his roost. A rather large roost too- three stories and nearly a dozen rooms. It even had a walled off swimming pool in the back. It was empty now, too cold for that.

He shouted a greeting and First Class paused in her work. 

"Well good evening, Duke Wildcard. What a pleasure this is!" She addressed, giving a curtsy in the air.

His heart sighed inwardly, and a familiar tingle of what can only be described as pure love ran down his spine. 

"The pleasure is all mine, Duchess First Class," He said, giving a practiced bow.

"You don't need to do that you know," Wildcard added, gesturing to the pile of leaves she had collected.

"Why?" She asked, flapping her winds at a hover. The chill dusty wing was stirred up, creating a swirling pattern around her.

"Well, for one thing the leaves rot and feed the grass in spring, and secondly..." 

With a flash First Class flew towards him, forcing him to squint his eyes through the dusty onslaught. The fact she was nearly three months pregnant didn't even phase her- a wonderbolt trained pegasus was incredibly strong.

"If you say 'pregnant'..." She said, angrily gesturing down from above. "... I'm going to find a rake and shove it right up your plot," she threatened.

"Alright, alright! Point taken!" Wildcard exclaimed, flailing his hooves above his head in a display of submission.

This was a stallion that had killed people. He had been an agent of the Hive for decades, used by Princess Luna not too long back to complete her own dirty work. Here he was, cowed by a hovering pegasus slightly shorter then he was.

Around her he wasn't an agent, nor a state official, nor any of those things. He was just a... pony.

Just another pony.

"I'm going to finish up out here, you go make us some of those mushroom sandwiches, and toss a pie in the oven," First Class ordered.

Wildcard nodded. "Sure, anything for you," he said, and trotted away to his task, while his wife continued cleaning the yard.

"Oh, and Wildcard!" First Class shouted, and he craned his neck back. "We're going to be having company, so use the good plates!" 

Wildcard chuckled to himself. That he even had 'good plates' was endlessly amusing. A plates a plate, you put food on it and eat it. Who cares how many craftsponies took how many hours labouring over it in what village?

Opening the door to his home, and shutting it behind he took off his coat to reveal the gun strapped to his leg. A grim reminder of the fact his life had been threatened more then once. That he put in a lockbox inside the closet, while his coat hung alongside a few others. He really wished he didn't need that gun, but facts were facts- they were at war.


________


Around a half hour later he had completed dinner, and lay it out on the table. A dozen hive mushroom sandwiches with a few apples, some carrots, and pear juice. It seemed to him somewhat improper to drink cider with their unknown 'company', so that was his replacement. A pair of apple pies cooked in the oven. He had never been able to shake his old instructions on how to make them, a very utilitarian recipe that maximized nutritional value- but made the flavour rather bland. 

He sighed and prodded his flank, noting about an inch that wasn't there two months ago. His stomach wasn't getting off any better, so maybe it was best he didn't try and fix his pie recipe. 

Maybe it was best he pass on the pie altogether.

In any case, he went about his work with the relaxed demeanor of someone at peace, a peace he had never known before he had come to Equestria. Back in the Hive you were always alert, ready for orders or for any possible attack. You didn't have friends, you had comrades at arms. Here, he had friends. He was surrounded by an entire nation of ponies that had his back, not just in war- but in peace too. 

As he lay out the 'good plates' he heard some chatter outside, and trotted out of the dining hall into the main hallway, seeing the door open just as he did, two mares entering.

"Lyra Heartstrings?!" Wildcard exclaimed, shocked to see his secretary alongside his wife.

"That's right Wildcard, she lives a bit down the block," First Class said, taking her coat.

"Sh... here?!" Wildcard stammered.

"Is there some reason I shouldn't?" Lyra asked, an eyebrow raised at her incredulous host.

Wildcard awkwardly rubbed the back of his head.

"Well... no... it's just..." He pointed towards her, "how can you possibly afford to live out here?" He asked.

"Well, with what you've been paying me, and investing in the same things you are- I've become rather rich myself. There's also the million bits Bon-Bon has- we live together after all," she said, not a hint of irony at the mention of 'a million bits'

"A million bits?!" Wildcard exclaimed, and finding his footing suddenly shaky he leaned against the wall.

"Well she had a shop in Ponyville, and her parents were rather wealthy. She had to sell the shop, which was apparently prime real estate for a cider chain," She explained.

First Class just sort of stood to the side, enjoying her husbands response to having been one-upped in the game of wealth.

"Well... that's fantastic then, it's a pleasure to have such nice neighbors already," Wildcard said, regaining his composure.

"I thought you lived in the political quarter in town though, or at least you did a few weeks ago," he noted.

"My place burnt down when the Griffons came, so we moved out here," Lyra explained.

Wildcard shrugged, as good an explanation as any- and he certainly didn't mind having a friend for a neighbor.

He bid them follow him into the kitchen, and they ate alongside smalltalk. Wildcard had little to offer, but his wife and Lyra got on like... like two mares. All the time one thought pressed itself into his mind- a million bits. Lyra had been loaded the entire time but never used it to do anything unsavory, and went at her work as if she needed her pay to put food on the table. If Wildcard had that money, and that job, he wasn't sure he had it in him to do as she did. She, maybe, was a little better then he was. She didn't care about wealth, politics, power- none of this. She just wanted to do the best she could, and make the world a better place in what ways she could. 

She was the best representation of Equestria there was. Kind, curious, smart, and somewhat powerful with magic. Yet she never used any of this to get her own way ahead of others, a better friend a person couldn't ask for.

His Queen has to be stopped, for their sakes as well as the changelings. Thinking of the fact that he still officially represented her sent a shiver down his spine. 

"You alright?" First Class asked, interrupting their chatter.

"I'm fine, don't worry about it," He said, alleviating her worry.

They continued on as he dug into a sandwich, and heard the ding of the oven. 

"That would be the pies, w-" Wildcard said, but Lyra cleared her throat and pushed back her chair.

"Sorry, but I have to go- the curfew you know, I almost got arrested last time I was out this late," She said.

Wildcard nodded. "I almost forget, it is getting to be that time isn't it?" He said.

"I'll walk you out, it's been a pleasure seeing you Lyra," First Class said, rising herself.

"It really has, maybe we can do this again soon," Lyra said, following her out.

That left Wildcard to clean up, and he did. A short time later a tap on his rear heralded his wife entering the kitchen. 

"So how was your day?" she asked, starting to dry the clean dishes.

"Busy, I got a half dozen reports of missing workers. Something is going on out there, but I'm at my wits end to figure out just what it is exactly. I tried going out myself, but the Night Guard followed me. They're everywhere." Wildcard said, and leaned over to kiss her on the cheek.

"Really? Celestia says she's been looking into something similar, maybe you should talk to her," She suggested, returning the gesture.

"Speaking of which, what has she had you doing lately? Hasn't Luna basically started doing... everything?" Wildcard asked.

"Not much right now, you're right there. Don't count her out yet though, I've seen her plotting before- it always goes her way," First Class replied.

"I would imagine so, one doesn't get to rule a nation for thousands of years without picking up a few tricks," Wildcard said, and finished his duty. 

First Class quickly finished hers, the dishes in a neat stack before her.

"You've picked up a few tricks of your own," She said, winking coyly.

Wildcard sighed, and grasped her hoof in his own.

"I really, really, love you. I hope you know that," he said.

"Actions speak louder than words..." She said, releasing his hoof and strutting out.

While his body itself began to glow a brilliant green, Wildcards higher brain functions struggled to guide his body after her, with two things going through his mind. One of which was worded.

	"Just another pony,"


	

	

	
	
> Short: The Manehatten Project I
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------




 It becomes apparent to me that the twin sisters ruling our nation cannot do so forever. The world changes, we change, technology moves ahead. One day they will have to accept this, or else it will be for the detriment of our society as a whole. Immortality can be a curse not only to yourself, but the potential for stagnation by a populace that has all their problems solved for them is huge. The extreme opposite, of course, is no better. Without the two we would surely still be under the thrall of Discord or any number of other monstrosities this world has conjured for us to endure. No, what we need is somepony that has come from the bottom, to rise to the top. This person, let's assume for thematical reasons their name is "Twilight", as the bridge between the Sun and the Moon, should allow for democracy to slowly take hold, as the two sisters themselves retire. Thus the population can take the reigns for themselves without being forced into it, which would have dire consequences for us all. In conclusion, I suggest openly to the two sisters ruling us all, Princess Celestia and Princess Luna, to find a protege- lest we succumb to a stagnant reliance on them to solve our problems. For, what will become of us if we find a problem that they cannot solve?


Star Swirl the Bearded, 365 After Harmony. 


Twilight Sparkle paced in the library, deeply concerned about recent events. Not the war, no that had been going on for so long that it had become almost normal. No it was something else, and that something lay on the floor amongst dozens of books and designs. 

For the past few weeks she had kept up a correspondence with one of the Night Guard researchers in the mountain, whom was greatly interested in her idea of "RADAR". She got the idea back in Baltimare- noticing how the storms thunder echoed back from distant mountains after it passed you. If you could use a radio beam to do something similar, it was theoretically possibly to detect distant objects. Possibly, with enough time and practice, even their size and height. Hopefully, hopefully, this would finally be her true contribution to the war effort. 

Four months a Princess, and already at war. 

She sighed, and stopped trotting. Noticing that she had actually managed to create a dark mark on the floor, she giggled, maybe it would be good to get out for a while. Ponyville was nice, but with most of her friends out around the nation doing their part, there wasn't much holding her here. Mayor Mare had taken her role... rather seriously as of late as well. Every few days she held an emergency drill, and checked the sirens. Twilight knew that the likelihood of another griffon attack on the continent was slim, but preparedness was still key.

The school had been closed, Cheerliee was a drill sergeant to the south of town in charge of getting the conscripts up to scratch, and Applejack was constantly working at the farm, harder than ever. The demands of Luna were huge, but Applejack was up to the task. So was the town itself, with a stallion named Trotsky establishing a factory to churn out dozens of motorized vehicles. The smog it belched out was matched only by the foundries of the Crystal Empire, but these were the sacrifices they needed to endure. The Wonderbolts were bogged down in ocean warfare, the Marines slogged through one island at a time eastward, and the Legion dug in the south fending off repeated assaults from the "Confederacy of Independent States". The rest of the world was quickly joining them in chaos, with the Saddle Arabians escalating tension with the Zebra Empire over a port, which they claimed was theirs by historical right.

Twilight had learned quite a bit about international politics over the last month, and it both terrified and fascinated her. The never ending game of power, fought by leaders with delusions of grandeur that sent armies to their end like they were no more then pawns for their own vain glory. It was stupid, it was evil, and it was reality. If had the power she would put all the leaders in a room and refuse to let them leave until they agreed on peace. This wasn't the first time Equestria had been at war, but this proved to to be the largest, and the worst. If only there was a way to stop it instantly. 

She made up her mind, and set off up the stairs to pack her bag. A note was in her hoof:


	


Spike, I have to go on urgent business. Don't worry about me, I'll be alright. Keep the library clean, and I'll be back in a few days.

Don't worry.





A short while later, with a saddlebag stuffed with a few days change of clothing- as requested, and clad in her proper Princess attire, she strode out of the library and, glancing around to make sure nopony noticed her, quickly stuck the note to the door and shimmered with a magenta light.

Teleportation was hard, but she was the element of magic after all. 


	______



"No, I don't get it. It's alicornium- you hit it with magic to activate it, and it gives out magic. If I knew how it did that I would be rolling on a pile of awards," Dr. Flankenstein said, at his wits end trying to explain to this 'Archer' that he wasn't holding some secret from him. 

He had barely been at this two weeks, in a facility deep underneath Manehatten. The Night Guard had offered him a huge salary for his work, and he knew it was worthwhile, but management was starting to get overbearing.

"So that's two weeks, and nothing? You realize we're at war here right?" The bat pony said, leaning up on his desk with an angry look on his face. 

Black coat, red eyes, Flankenstein had started to wonder if they had evolved to be terrifying. This one choose to always wear his armour, night and day, to add to the effect. 

"Yes, Archer, I realize that. Science doesn't work on a schedule," Flankenstein argued.

"Well you do, so get out of my office and come back with some results," Archer ordered, and gestured at the door behind Flankenstein.

Suppressing a sigh Flankenstein turned and quickly left, slamming the door behind him. Out in the corridor it was apparent how new this facility was, it was so clean you could eat off the floor. White lights kept it in a perpetual light, and the halls went on for hundreds of meters in any direction. Magic worked wonders when nobody was paying attention to you, and the Night Guard had built this place in a matter of weeks after Black Friday. Flankenstein had helped, in part because of the pay, and in part because he believed as they did.

The griffons need to be stopped, permanently. Anything less then total retaliation will invite others to try as they did- harder. If they succeeded in their work here, Equestria's first war would be it's last. 

Trotting down the hallway, clad in his lab coat, he nodded at the passing scientists. There was around a hundred of them down here, working on assorted things for the Night Guard. There was a division for rockets- specifically improving that Griffon design they had reverse-engineered. That was their first major victory, and the breakthrough had taken place while they still worked out of the Canterlot mountain.

The trick was a small magically tuned device at the head of the griffon rocket. They had thought it was heat seeking- but it wasn't.

It was magic seeking.

Once they understood how it worked, it was easy enough to make a replication that actually did seek heat. Their horror on realizing the griffons had literally made a pony seeking missile had steeled all of them there to their task.

We are going to wipe them out, all of them.

Flankenstein was head of the Alicornium division, and his task was simple: crack it. If they could get Alicornium to release it's energy in a burst, instead of a slow stream, they could turn the Griffon Home Islands into glass. 

Nobody would dare threaten them again.


__________






Princess Twilight Sparkle, I hope this letter finds you well. We have started work on your 'RADAR' design, and expect to have a prototype for your inspection by the end of the week. I would like to request that you come here personally to help construct it, and inspect the final product before we start low-yield production. The Wonderbolt Air Martial is quite excited at the prospect of being able to see the enemy over the horizon, and has been pressuring us to advance our timetable. 

I also request that, assuming you have the time to come here, that you bring suitable dress to stay for a few days. I expect you will find out work fascinating and want to stay for a while. I can't explain on unsecured mail, but I think you will be quite excited to find out what we've been doing down here. 

If you do come, don't tell anybody. It's a matter of national security that our work down here remains secret. Come to Manhatten. You can find a contact at the intersection of Capital and Majestic street, apartment 304. Ask for my comrade: Cast Iron. I hope you can find the time to come visit us, the staff would be greatly boosted by your appearance, and surely your legendary intelligence can help crack a few eggs. 

May the Queen's reign last a thousand years.

-Archer, Night Guard Intelligence.





Twilight pocketed the letter, and knocked on the door with a golden shoe clad hoof. Apartment 304. Teleporting had saved her half a day of travel, she wondered if it was odd to appear only an hour after receiving the letter. 

	Would he think she was strange for being so enthused?

Wait, hold on. I'm a Princess, if he thinks I'm strange he can blow it ou...

"Who is it?" A voice asked from within. Sounded like an older stallion, probably around fourty.

Twilight cleared her throat, collected herself, and announced herself in the most regal way she felt she could.

"Princess Twilight Sparkle, I'm here to see a 'Cast Iron'." She said, her chin high as she entered 'princess mode'.

A flurry of activity could be heard inside, followed by the crash of.... something. A short silence followed, and a rather unkempt looking bat pony opened the door.

"Uh.. good afternoon your Highness," He said, giving a rather wobbly bow. "Come in, don't mind the mess," He said, and trotted back leaving the door open. 

Twilight Followed, glancing around at the apartment. It was littered with what she assumed was take-out food containers, and dozens of documents. Across from her was a window, with a telescope pointing out through it- pointed downwards.

"Doing some... birdwatching?" Twilight asked.

"Just uh.. keeping watch on the city," Cast Iron said, rummaging through the mess for something.

Twilight gently kicked the door closed, and floated over one of them many documents around while her host did... whatever it was he was doing.





Station Report: Manehatten Six. August 31st (Yesterday)

Nothing new to report today Archer. The populace hasn't seemed to notice the shipments in and out of the tunnels, and anybody that has was rather eager to sign a confession... given some convincing. They won't bother us, and if they do we'll use those to arrest them for 'treason'. The facility is safe, and secret. 

Our hold on the phone network remains secure, nothing interesting on the lines within the sixth station corridor, although there have been a few calls going to Canterlot from a small time publisher. I checked up on it, it's just a tabloid bugging Celestia for whatever reason.

In addition, it looks like Mezza Luna was right: the population was incredibly eager to 'help us protect the changelings'. They pointed them out, and we shipped them off to Location X.

May the Queen's Reign last a thousand years.

-Cast Iron, Night Guard Intelligence.





Twilight was rather concerned at the tone and message of the letter, but surely the Night Guard knew what they were doing. She put the document back down with the others, she turned her attention back to her host- whom had found a coat somewhere and was putting it over himself.

"Sorry, I didn't expect you would be here so soon. Some of us didn't think you would come at all; the Night Guard hasn't been that popular with 'the brass' lately," He said, gesturing at the door.

"We've got to go to 56th street, which is just a few blocks from here. From there I'll lead you down into..."

He paused, and a gentle glow came to his eyes.

"The facility" He said, as ominously as possible.

Twilight rolled her eyes. "You're starting to sound like... you're evil or something. Please don't tell me the Night Guard is turning into a cliche, the last one exploded," she said flatly.

Cast Iron shook his head in bewilderment. "I uh... yes your highness," he stammered. 

"Good," Twilight said. "Now that that's settled, lead the way."

This time Cast Iron gave a proper bow. "As you wish," he said, and followed her out- grabbing his report as he did.

Out in the hall he marched forward with Twilight behind, holding her head high. Luna had instructed her how to act as a proper Princess, and who better to use this on then her own Night Guard? She certainly seemed to have been right, all you needed was the proper volume and to keep those under you in place. Reward the good, disparage the bad.

She was getting used to being a Princess. She could feel herself changing, but for the better.


	___________


"Here? Now?!" Flankenstein exclaimed into the phone, his voice shakey.

"Yes. Prepare the lab, and for Luna's sake make your staff look halfway decent. This is a Princess we're talking about- and from what I gather she hasn't been convinced of our works importance. The last thing she needs is a bunch of eggheads gawking at her," Archer ordered, his voice somehow just as powerful through the phone as in person.

"I'll make sure of it." Flankestein said. 

"You better," Archer said, and ended the conversation with a harsh click.

Flankenstein sighed, clicked the phone back on the wall receiver, and turned to look at his lab. His staff, a half dozen egghead mages lured in by promises of academic fame and huge salaries, were gazing up at the central element of the large room. It was a glass cylinder, inside it floated an entire tenth of Equestria's alicornium reserves. Flankensteins original field was medicine, but after learning of the mistakes he had made in that field he decided to start over- with atomic physics. Their calculations were spot on, and they knew exactly how much energy was contained in that kilogram (enough to vaporize most of Equestria), but they just couldn't figure out how to get the damn thing to 'turn on'. The walls of the room were covered with assorted calculations and diagrams, all of which had ultimately meant nothing. 

They tried smashing small chunks together at huge speeds using magnets. They just merged back into one chunk.

They tried focusing magic on them, but this did absolutely nothing.

They tried fire, chemical reactions, microwave radiation, nothing had any effect. 

They were, to be quite honest, at their wits end. Were it not for the promise in this project, and the lack of other capable scientists with the required vision to see it through, he would probably have been fired long ago. 

What they had learned was that Alicornium was not a chemical element, it was something entirely separate from the elements that otherwise made up matter. It had mass, it was matter, but the atoms weren't made of protons, neutrons, or electrons. They had dubbed the atomic structure, which seemed to be a single core mass with a stream of particles orbiting, Celestials and Lunals. 

It was a pretty stupid name, but it stuck with the staff so that was that.

"Alright guys, listen up!" Flankenstein shouted, and his staff glanced back from where they were.

"We're going to be receiving an official visit from Princess Twilight Sparkle, go get yourselves cleaned up and for Celestia's sake- try and look presentable. The last thing I need is Twilight complaining that my staff looks like a bunch of grad students," he said.

They glanced at each other, and the bravest one (Erwin, one of the better ones), spoke up.

"Princess Twilight Sparkle, really?" he asked.

"Yes, really." Flankenstein said. 

"If I catch any of you gawking you're getting transferred to hazardous materials, got it?" Flankenstein threatened.

A pair of them, which had recently gotten back from just that, swallowed and nodded.

"Good, now go put on some clean coats and wash up, maybe we can get a boost in funding out of this," he ordered.

His staff nodded again, and streamed out of the room. When the door shut he strode up to the cylinder and stared at the grey mass, reflecting an otherworldly visage. That always struck him- no matter where you were it always reflected some sort of eerie starscape, dim blue with white streams of stars. Every once and a while you could even see streams of these, He once saw what he was rather certain was a constellation, but photography of it was impossible, so it remained only known to himself. He swore he had once even seen beings. 

"What are you?" Flankenstein wondered aloud.


	____________


"And here we are, Location Y, otherwise known as 'The Facility'" Cast Iron said, leading Twilight down the dark tunnel. It had once been a subway line, but Black Friday had led to all the lines being abandoned. Twilight's alicorn shimmered gently to provide light, but her guide didn't even seem to notice the dark. Twilight had read about this once, the magic of a bat pony came through in an ability to see in the dark as if it was day- also giving them their penchant for glowing eyes.

"Hidden in an old rail line, under the most populated city in the country. Aren't you afraid somepony is going to come looking eventually?"

"Good luck to them," Cast Iron said, and with a wave of his hoof a section of wall up ahead opened up, blinding Twilight with an outpouring of brilliant white light.

"Magically sealed, only we have the keystones," Cast Iron noted proudly.

"Alright," Twilight said, protecting her eyes with an arm. "That's kind of impressive," she noted.

"I'm glad you approve, now if you'll follow me inside..." Cast Iron said, leading her in through the light.

Inside was a small lobby, with a glass room overlooking it and a harsh white light filling the room. Inside the glass room was a grinning night guard, with an armoured Night Guard sitting inside.

To the left was a metal door, and on the wall beside that a notice: 

ACCIDENT FREE FOR: 14 DAYS

"Welcome to Facility Y your Highness. Archer is awaiting you inside," She said, her voice amplified by a speaker above the window.

A moment later the door slid open, and Twilight stepped into the long hall to see a smiling, well armoured, Night Guard standing before her. He bowed, rather low, and gently grasped her hoof.

He kissed it, and released it. Twilight blushed, she wasn't used to be treated like actual royalty.

"I'm glad you could come your Highness, I'm Archer, in charge of this facility. Follow me, and I'll give you a tour," He said, turning to the hallway ahead.

"Very good Archer, let's have a look," Twilight said. A slight shimmer, hopefully un-noticable, adjusted her crown. 

She felt her saddle bag slip off, and glanced back to see Cast Iron hefting it.

"We'll take of this, your Highness," He said, giving a shallow bow. 

"Good, but do be careful with it," Twilight said.

"Of course." 

Turning back forwards, Archer led her town the hallway, with Twilight glancing around as they trotted. It was beset with doors all along the sides, no windows on any of them and only a room number identifying them. A few had a small roster board outside.

"Most of the work we do down here is just basic research and development- we're focusing on one idea in particular right now. But we have a dozen or so other projects on the go at any time," Archer said, pausing before a door with a pair of yellow plastic suits outside.

"Room 301, hazardous materials. A lot of what we do down here generates some dangerous leavings- so we dilute it, pack it all in barrels, and bury it in the desert," Archer said.

"You... bury toxic chemicals in the desert?" Twilight asked.

"Where else?" Archer said, and trotted onwards without any regard for what he had said. Twilight began to detect a faint stench in the state of Denmare, but maybe it was just another sacrifice they needed to make for the war. If poisoning the desert brought them victory, then so be it.

A half minute later he stopped before a second room, and gently opened the door.

"Room 307, aeronautics." he said. 

Twilight peaked around the corner, a few lab-coated ponies were discussing something before the model of what looked like one of the Phoenix planes, except markedly larger. On a blackboard behind them was a complex series of questions Twilight recognized as dealing with the thrust of an engine versus the weight of it. If she was reading it right, they were having trouble getting the engine to a light enough point that it would be able to break the sound barrier, yet sturdy enough that it wouldn't break apart.

"Fascinating," Twilight said, and Archer smiled.

"If you ever have anything to add, feel free," he suggested.

Twilight nodded. "Sure, but I think this one is in good hooves," She said. 

A wave of pride washed over the scientists in the room, and for a moment they paused to glance back at their Princess all smiles. She met their smiles with a sagely nod.

Reward the good, disparage the bad

______________________

His staff assembled before him, Flankenstein trotted down the line and inspected them. 

Coming to a halt before Neils, one of the newer members of the group; and fresh out of the school in Canterlot, he sighed.

"Neils, cologne, really?" He said, his colleague looking to the floor as if it held some great mystery.

"This is an official visit, not a date!" Flankenstein yelled disparagingly.

He then forcibly gripped his chin, and brought it forwards to glare into the stallions eyes.

"Hazardous. Materials." Flankenstein growled.

A pair of the others shuddered, ever since their tour of duty in there they had been most eager to please.

"No, please! Anything but that!" Neils exclaimed, awkwardly trotting backwards before he ran into the cylinder.

The door opened with a dull green glow.

"One week, keep arguing and I'll make it two," Flankenstein threatened.

Neils glanced around, but there would be no support from his colleagues. They knew who was in charge.

"Now then," Flankenstein addressed the rest, while Neils ran out of the room in a fearful haste. "The rest of you try and look like you're useful. Leave the talking to me," he said.

His staff nodded, and ambled off to find something to do. A pair of them erased the blackboards, and started re-writing their equations.

Flakenstein himself straightened his coat and took up a position near the door, waiting. 	

Objective: Secure more funding, perhaps a large scale collider could crack the alicornium.

Secondary: Swallow your pride and ask her for help, who knows? She was the protege of Celestia after all, maybe she knew something they didn't.

Now that was a thought, Celestia somehow indirectly helping them through her protege. If she, or even her sister, knew about their plans and projects down here she was likely to be rather... disappointed.

Her sister would be angry, and was likely to start building some of the guillotines the Zebras liked so much. Even Luna didn't have the vision to see this through to the end they needed. They both lived on a time scale long enough that they could just outlast the storm. Flankenstein, the Night Guard, the regular ponies- they couldn't. Twilight was young, and perhaps thought more like we did. Our lives lasted only a century at the most, and he would do whatever it takes to see a return to peace for the next generation, and the ones after that- forever.


_______________


Archer pointed out yet another door. "Rocketry, my personal favourite," he said, opening the door and leading Twilight inside. 

The room had a rather high roof, and in the middle was one of the "ATA-1" missiles the Wonderbolts had. A single scientist was in the room as well, fiddiling with a mock up that looked similar, but not quite, like the full scale model in the centre.

"I've always been rather proud of the ATA, we reverse engineered it from the griffon missiles they used to kill so many in Baltimare. A disgusting atrocity, and one we'll ensure is never repeated," Archer said, leading Twilight to the rocket.

"I'm surprised you were able to do it so quickly. A heat seeking missile, I've only seen this sort of thing once- not on this world," Twilight said.

"I've heard about the world beyond the mirror, but that's a discussion perhaps for another day," Archer said, turning to Twilight with the missile behind him.

"Do you know how they worked, the originals?" He asked.

Twilight nodded. "A small enchanted device, that pulled on the fins to guide it following a heat signature. Not very accurate, but they put this sticky flammable substance in with the explosives. Terrifying," She said.

"Mostly correct, with one exception- they weren't heat-seeking, that's a lie to keep the populace from panicking," Archer said.

"Not heat seeking?" Twilight asked.

Archer shook his head. "No. Magic seeking," 

Twilight did a take in shock. "Magic seeking? As in... it follows the magic of a pony?" She asked incredulously.

Archer nodded solemnly. "That's it. The griffons build a weapon with only one purpose: to kill ponies en masse. Do you see now why we have to stop them?" He asked.

Twilight squinted at him, unsure what he meant. "Of course I see why they need to be stopped, I voted for this war after all. We'll beat them in the end, Queen Luna will see to it," she said.

"Oh Her Majesty will beat them, I'm sure of that. I want us to go a little... further," He said ominously.

"Further?" Twilight asked.

"Follow me, and come see our most secret, and greatest, project," He said, and led her out of the room. 

Twilight followed him with a glance back at the menacing rocket. If they put some of that toxic material in one, had it burst in the air...

	Good Celestia what am I thinking!??

Glancing down the corridor, Flankenstein caught the sound of hoofsteps echoing down, a familiar voice speaking with a young mare alongside those. He ducked his head inside and quietly closed the door. It was time, finally. 

"Alright colts! Look good, look smart, and for Celestia's sake don't say anything!" Flankenstein ordered, and his staff quickly shot to attention.

He watched them go about their attempt to follow his order, bemused as they bumped into each other. The two at the board once again erased it, and methodically began replicate the equations. The other two put on the best philosopher stance as they pondered the mysteries of the Alicornium. 

Satisfied they atleast didn't look entirely like incompetents, he awaited the arrival of Her Highess, Princess Twilight Sparkle.

It would be nice to get a Princess on their side, that was for sure.


	_______________________


"And here we are. Room X-01, Alicornium Physics," Archer said, halting before a markedly thicker door. Outside it was a small roster sheet, one of the names having been hastily erased recently. 

"Alicornium? What are you doing with that, It's always been more of a curiosity then a weapon," Twilight noted.

"So was fire, once. Doctor Flankenstein can explain better then I can, so I'll leave you with him," Archer said, and pushed the door open.

He gestured Twilight inside, and she did with a slight reluctance. When she saw what was in the centre of the room, however, it faded away.

"Sweet Celestia..." She breathed, beholding the beautiful ball of Alicornium hovering in the water.

Behind her Archer gave a nod to Flankenstein, and gently closed the door as Twilight trotted in wonder.

The scientists that had been pondering it backed away with their heads bowed, allowing their princess to approach the grey sphere.

She looked up at it in awe, Flankenstein slowly approaching behind her. 

"It's quite something, isn't it? I often stare into it for hours, it's both inspiring and terrifying if you look into it long enough," He said.

Noticing something odd, he paused a short distance away. Twilight's horn was glowing... purple. The Alicornium was too, in sync with her.

"I've been there..." She said, staring up into the sphere with her hooves on the glass. 

Flankenstein glanced back at his staff, all of whom had clustered in the corner unsure of what was going on.

"Princess?" Flankenstein asked, himself slightly afraid- but also intrigued like any good scientist should be.

"I've BEEN THERE!" Twilight shouted, seemingly drilling into their minds. She turned back and her glowing eyes were matched only by the brilliance of the alicornium itself behind her, the water bubbling around it.

"Princess!" Flankenstein shouted.

Twilight paused for a moment, and he felt an incredible pain shoot through his entire body. 

"Princess!" He repeated, stammering weakly.

She blinked, and fell backwards. The alicornium ceased its powerful glow as she did too.

"Princess?!" Flankestein asked, quickly coming to her side. She opened her eyes, and looked up at him.

"I... I don't know what that was," She said, laying on the ground.

"Are you okay? I haven't seen magic like that before," Flankenstein asked, 

Twilight nodded. "I'm fine, don't worry about me. Celestia taught me how to use that sort of magic a while ago. Dark magic or something, like Sombra used," She said, coming to all four and dusting herself off. 

"Celestia... taught you this?" Flankenstein asked.

Twilight nodded. "She did, it's a large part of how I passed my test in the Crystal Empire and defeated Sombra," She said.

"This is... an interesting development. I had no idea there was 'dark' magic," He said, staring up at the now settled Alicornium.

"How about you get some rest, and we can continue this in the morning?" He suggested.

Twilight shook her head. "It's like, three in the afternoon- and I'm fine," She said, and looked up at the alicornium again.

"I have an idea, do you have two small slivers of it?" She asked.

"We can cut parts off, how much do you need?" Flankenstein returned.

Twilight considered for a moment. 

"As small as possible," She replied.

Flankestein nodded, and gestured to one of the staff. He fetched a large metal grabber while another rolled a ladder over to the side of the cylinder. The pony with the grabber, and thick gloved hooves, climbed it and opened a porthole ontop. Grasping the sphere firmly he pulled it out. 

"It's not very dangerous as far as we know, but we don't take that for granted," Flankestein said.

Twilight nodded, and watched as the scientist carefully carried into a back room. A few minutes of waiting later he reappeared, rolling out a cart with two plastic dishes on it.

"So what's your idea?" Flankenstein asked, as the pony halted before them.

"Watch," Twilight said, and sprayed the first with a magenta bolt of magic. The second, after a short pause, a green/purple bolt. 

Flankenstein felt he began to understand. "You charged the first with light, and the second with dark?" He wondered.

Twilight nodded. "Do you have a secure room where we can bring the two together?" She asked.

Flankenstein nodded, his heart starting to race with excitement. "We do, follow me," He said, and quickly led her and the rest of his staff out of the room, wheeling the cart head of himself.

	Had they finally done it?

He burst through the doors of the explosive testing room a short trot later. It was a concrete room about fifty square meters wide, in the centre of which was a small steel stage. The dozens of experiments in there left it scorched, and the concrete had been repaired time and time again. A thick foam was behind it as well, absorbing the shock of what went on in there. Thick blast doors sealed it from the rest of the base, and the roof was designed so that if any explosion was too powerful it would shoot through, for above here was the ocean, and it would stream in to curtail any fire. The closer side had a viewing room behind meter thick steel reinforced glass as well.

Flankenstein rolled the cart with took both dishes out into the middle, noting how they clearly glowed the same colour as the magic Twilight had used- magenta on the first, purple/green on the second, and turned back to his followers.

"So how do we bring them together safely?" He asked them.

Erwin stepped forward.

"Use a funnel to direct it, and put one of the slivers above some black powder with a fuse. When the fuze lights to the powder, it'll burn up and allow the alicornium through the hole, which is too small for the powder grain to go through," He suggested.

"The second part should be held on the end of tweezers, directed at the funnel hole," He added.

"Good, get it done, and for Celestia's sake be careful," he ordered.

His staff nodded and swarmed past him, leaving Twilight standing where they had been.

"Princess, if this works you just saved Equestria," Flankenstein said, excitedly.

Twilight edged back and squinted at him. "I get that you like your work, but you seem oddly gleeful for somepony designing weapons. Why do you want to do this anyway? We don't have enough alicornium for it to replace bombs or whatever," she said.

Flankenstein led her out of the main room into the observation area, as a pair of his staff galloped out to retrieve something.

"You're thinking too small scale, your Highness. We don't want to replace our current bombs, we want to make new ones, bigger ones," He boasted.

Twilight stared out the window, a mix of horror and stark realization on her face.

"You have an entire kilogram of it," She said.

"Twenty five million tonnes of conventional explosive in one place! Imagine it, we could obliterate the entire griffon home island chain in one fell swoop! Nobody will dare cross us again with this knowledge!" He exclaimed.

Twilight decided to hold her mouth, and wondered what she had unleashed here. Perhaps... he was right? The griffons had after all attacked them first, killed ponies and ruined cities. What if this was the price of peace? Luna had certainly been right that they had to remove the griffon ability to make war to ensure a lasting peace, and wasn't this the logical conclusion of that idea? Ponies had once made extinct theFit the wolves, and the other feral predators that roamed the continent- was this not the same thing?

A few minutes later the stage was set, and a member of the staff (whom had drawn the short straw) lit the fuze and quickly dashed inside the secured room. He slammed the door behind and spun the wheel around, shortly taking his position with the rest, then they awaited the result. The pace of their hearts was matched only by the pace of the fire as it raced up the string.

Twenty seconds later a flash of light bloomed from the centre, and a fiery explosion shot out to consume the room in flame. The room shook from the shock wave, but the glass held. Once the storm inside had subsided, there was nothing left of the cart.

The glass, a meter thick, was cracked.

"That.. that was less then a hundredth of a gram!" Erwin exclaimed, stammering with excitement.

Flankenstein grinned, and turned to his shaken-but ecstatic, colleagues.

"Gentleponies, your Highness," He said, with a nod to Twilight. "We just won the war," He said.

A jubilant series of hoof shakes and cries were shared by all except Twilight, whom stood to the side and slowly a look of sheer horror came on her face. Never in history had anyone, pony or otherwise, had the power to utterly annihilate their enemies. 

Now they did.

"He never showed me the radar...." Twilight mumbled to herself, frantic realizations coming to her mind.

What have I done?

	

	

	
	
> Short: The Manehatten Project II
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

While the scientists celebrated with their Night Guard hosts, ecstatic at what they had accomplished, Twilight sat alone in her assigned quarters. She had made something up about feeling ill, which they were ready to believe after seeing what happened when she first beheld the alicornium. So they thanked her, and she lay on the bed with a rather bountiful silver plate of pie, cake, and wine. None of it was native to the region, it must have been brought in from Canterlot specifically for her.

The room was incredibly well furnished and cozy compared to the rest of the facility. It's roof was higher, it was wider, and it had a dark blue carpet. The metal walls were painted dark purple, with spots of white. This paint scheme matched the large bed in the centre. Along the walls was a dresser, and beside it a large mirror. Twilight guessed from all this that it had been built by the Night Guard for their Queen, and for now it was Twilight's.

Twilight Sparkle, a higher up. Part her liked the power, part of her was terrified. At the moment it was the latter that shone through. She picked at her meal, going through her mind of just where she was- and how to escape.

They had used her, lied about their enthusiasm about her RADAR project in the hopes she would solve their alicornium project for them. She had done so, blind to their real intentions. Like a naive fool she really expected them to respect her, but they didn't really see her as a 'princess' or even an equal- she was a tool. Like a microscope or a beaker, just another tool to solve their scientific problems.

However: they were at war after all. Could she really blame them for doing whatever it took to win the war, including entrapping her like this? Would she, if given the position and choices they had, have made the same judgement? 

One of the things that bugged her was the fact Celestia had apparently kept everypony else unaware of 'dark' magic. Twilight should have been smart enough to realize why- it was to prevent exactly what had happened today. They had created a weapon of such untold power that the very world would shudder if it was ever used. 

The very core question to this all was: what if it was worth it?

Celestia was old, really old. What if she was wrong about the griffons, and Luna, with her Night Guard, was right? She had been wrong before about them, hoping that they could somehow return to peace despite a city being ruined. Luna had taken over after this disaster, and led them now. If Celestia had been wrong then, she could be wrong about everything.

So there she sat, split between two futures and one choice. Either support Luna's Night Guard to whatever end, and see this project through- or fight them. They were equally terrifying.

	Why the buck does the world always end up on my shoulders?


	_____________


Flankenstein, with a great grin on his face, sat across from Archer in his office. He had just finished delivering the news, after first giving his staff the day off and a line of government credit to go have some 'fun'. They had certainly earned it. Twilight had taken ill, which worried him slightly- but alicorns were stronger than they seemed, even young ones. So he had led her to her room, and would check up on her sometime later.

The pop of a cork shooting off a bottle snapped Flankenstein back to attention.

"You did it doc, I gotta say I'm impressed," He said, pouring the fizzing drink into two glasses on his desk.

"It was Princess Twilight honestly, I'm glad she decided to come pay a visit," Flankenstien said, receiving one.

"It took some doing doctor, I had to convince her we were working on this idea of hers called ehdar or something," Archer said, and chuckled. 

"Using radio waves to detect distant objects, what a pipe dream. Where would you even get the power for that?" he wondered.

"I can think of one place, but I digress, we should be celebrating our victory," Flankenstein said.

Archer nodded. "Yes, our victory. The griffons will fall, and the Queen will rise, " He said, raising his glass.

"To those we lost in Baltimare," He said.

"Remember Baltimare," Flankestein added. They had both seen the horrors there, and it made their purpose clear.

Remember Baltimare. It had become somewhat of their motto. The scientists here understood full well how terrible this weapon was, but they needed to fight fire with fire. Whenever one of them looked like they were having second thoughts, Flankestein was there with two words.

Remember Baltimare.

They clinked their glasses, and downed the white wine.

"May the Queens reign last forever, and may her night be eternal." Archer said, putting his glass back on the desk.

Flankenstein had gotten used to the sort of grandiose wordplay of the Night Guard, but not in private like this. Normally Archer kept his pseudo-religious admiration of Luna in his pocket.

"How long until you can get me more of that weaponized alicornium? Just another sliver or so, for a special project." Archer asked.

Flankenstein was about to reply 'immediately', but held his tongue- what special project? Why just a sliver- they were supposed to use the entire load on the griffons.

"About a week, the Princess exerted significant magic energy and will need time to rest," He replied.

Archer rolled his eyes. "The little pony princess needs her beauty sleep? So be it, but we'll have some work for her in the meantime, " he said.

Flankensteins face turned to confusion, which seemed to amuse Archer. "Uhh, Archer... you're talking about an alicorn princess here, what's to stop her from just leaving? You shouldn't demand anything of her," He said.

Archer grinned a wide grin, almost ear to ear. "Oh we thought of that. Not only is this facility teleport sealed, but there's a little surprise in her food," He said ominously.

"... and that would-be?" Fankenstein asked, almost afraid of the answer.

"Poison, naturally. When she wakes up tomorrow, rather weak I'm afraid, we'll give her an antidote. She'll remain physically weak, but it won't affect her mind or magic. She's ours Flankenstein, we bagged us an alicorn," Archer explained, and leaned back in his chair, proud of his accomplishment.

"That's dark Archer, even for the Night Guard. What are you going to do when we're done, just hope Luna understands why you poisoned a princess?"

Archer laughed. "Don't you get it? She's not going to leave. As soon as we have enough weaponized alicornium..."

He gestured across his throat, and let out a hack.

Flankenstein was horrified. He had accepted the need to destroy the griffons, but since when did they start killing innocent ponies?

"I protest, I strongly protest. Have you forgotten who the enemy is?!" Flankenstein demanded.

Archer raised himself over the doctor, and his eyes started to glow. 

"Have you? Who was it that got us into this war, who was it that refused to act while Baltimare was raised and Manehatten attacked? We lost dozens of our own in frivolous limp-wristed defensive fighting before Luna finally set us on the right path. Celesita and Twilight, her would be protege, are the enemy," He growled.

"Remember Baltimare," he added.

Flankenstein gave up, better to retreat now and fight again.

"You're right, in the end. If Luna had been in charge to begin with this would all be over already," He said.

"Good, I'm glad you see as we do," Archer said, lowering back into his chair. With a blink, the glow of his eyes vanished.

"Now go enjoy yourself doctor, you've earned it," He suggested.

Flankenstein nodded, and quickly left the office. Out in the hall he shut the door and drew up against the wall, his mind reeling with horrible realizations.

He gasped as it all came together.

A sliver of alicornium... Canterlot...

Celestia.


__________


Twilight ate what she could, and found herself oddly sleepy despite it only being mid-afternoon. She had taken to writing a letter to Celestia, unsurprised to find her bag had been rummaged through. Thankfully it was all there, plus somepony had added a few apples for whatever reason. 

It had begun to slowly dawn on her that if the Night Guard was evil, then it represented evil at the top. Princess Luna had long ago sought to take over the world, what if she had never given up? She was Queen now, and in all rights she did rule the world- the world of ponies anyway. In any case the chances of her somehow not knowing of the workings of her own Night Guard were slim, so that added to the conundrum. Either they were evil, and had to be fought, or Twilight's morality was wrong. 

No, no. Think about it Twilight. We don't need to destroy them all just because some politician craved power. This is wrong...

... which meant Luna was wrong.

Celestia would know, she must have some wisdom to share, and at the very least she should be warned of the potentiality that Nightmare Moon was back.

Twilight yawned, and plucked a rolled up parchment from the bag, along with a quill and some ink. For whatever reason she was rather weak. Perhaps it was from how much magic she had done today.

Shrugging, she set the ink down on the nightstand and dabbed the quill inside.

"Dear Cel..."

Her arm shook, and she felt a sudden pang of weakness overtake the other. It hung off her like a limp noodle, and panic began to overtake the purple pony.

"No, no! They can't have!" She exclaimed weakly, and lit her alicorn. She had been taught a spell to detect poison long ago, but why would she suspect that here?

A bolt of magic shot at the remaining food, and a bright green fire shot out from it. It was poisoned.

"No! No they.. they.." Twilight felt it hard to keep her eyes open, and with what strength she had charged at the door. 

Half way there her legs gave out, and sent her sliding into it with a gentle clunk.

With her remaining strength she scribbled something hastily on the letter, and tried desperately to send it off. A green field took it, and it vanished.

Just as she was about to sigh with relief, certain that help would be on the way, it flew back out of the nether at her.

Her strength having been exhausted with the attempt, a painful sleep overtook her, with one thought on her mind as the letter gently drifted down.

Princess Luna betrayed us all

The letter covered her like a thin blanket, it's hasty wording visible in the rooms dim light.

"Help"


____________


Today, Queen Luna was rather bored. All fronts of the war were stable at the moment, and there was nothing to do but await more news or more decisions that required her leadership. She leaned her head on a silver shoed hoof, sitting on that throne she had taken as her own, and sighed. 

Deciding that her presence wasn't really required on the throne, and noting the time to be late evening, she decided to pack it in early. Perhaps in her dreamwalking she could find something interesting, some foal somewhere was bound to have a childhood issue she could help with. Even if not, the dreams of her subjects proved rather humorous at times. It was too bad her sister didn't share this ability- at least to Luna's knowledge.

She slid out of her throne, and trotted to the end of the room. The guards, quite skilled at their job, opened the doors from the other side to allow her to pass. 

"I will be retiring early tonight, if anypony comes seeking an audience, they can wait until tomorrow," she said.

"As you wish, your highness," Both guards said, bowing.

"Good, you can take the night off, no sense guarding an empty throne," Luna said, and took down the hallway as the guards giddily abandoned their position. Reward the good, disparage the bad- these guards had stood there all day for weeks without complaint. 

Soon she reached the balcony where she and her sister traditionally 'traded places'. A little earlier than usual, Celestia stood watching the sunset at the end.

"Good evening sister, you're only here this early when you're troubled," Luna said, coming to her side.

Celestia was indeed, her gaze betrayed some deep problem.

"I got some strange news from Ponyville today. Princess Twilight has left the town, without informing any of her friends. The police haven't seen anything, and none of the train conductors have seen her," She said.

Luna was worried by this too. "She can't have just disappeared, this is greatly troubling. Could the griffons somehow be behind this?" she asked.

Celestia shook her head. "Impossible, somebody in Ponyville would have seen something. As near as we can tell, she left on her own. I just can't figure out why, or where," She said.

Luna put an arm around her sister, which required her to levitate slightly upwards to match her incredible height. 

"Twilight is capable in her own right, I am sure she is fine," she said

"Worry not, I will put my Night Guard on this," she added.

Celestia nodded.

"I hope your faith in them is deserved, I suggest you look into this personally as well," Celestia suggested.

Luna knew it was more then that. Celestia had never trusted the Night Guard- especially after their support of her a thousand years past. She was pleading for her sisters help where her own hooves were tied.

"I will do so, for you sister," Luna said, and embraced her sister with the hope of calming her nerves. 

Celestia had always loved her protege, a love Luna had never felt, but understood. Twilight had once shown her that she needn't be separate from the other ponies, that she could embrace whom she really was and enjoy life with them. She had shown her the magic of friendship, and quite possibly averted a repeat of a millennia ago. Twilight was a personal friend, and if she needed her help- she would be there.

This was on top of the fact that she was an alicorn princess, and thus her disappearance meant that somebody could have kidnapped a head of state. Twilight's position made her a rather large target.

Celestia released her sister, and nodded her silent thanks. She then turned to the sunset, and with a dim shimmer of her alicorn completed the cycle.

"Find her, please," Celestia said, and took her leave.

Luna nodded, and turned to raise her moon. 

"Wherever you are Twilight Sparkle, I will find you. Whatever you need, I will provide it. Whoever threatens you, I will make them fall," She said to herself as she did so. 

Once that was complete, she turned back into the castle. Shortly down a hall one of her Night Guards, a young looking bat pony, approached her.

"Your Highness," She said, bowing.

"Yes?" Luna asked.

The pony produced a small parchment from her armour, and handed it to her queen.

"I was told to deliver this to you, it comes from Archer, in Manehatten," she said, and bowed again before leaving.

"Hold on, I have a request of you," Luna said.

The short guard stopped, Luna guessed she mustn't be much older than 14.

"Yes, your highness?" she asked.

"Tell Mezza Luna to put the guard on alert, Princess Twilight Sparkle is missing. I want a patrol over the Everfree, and check the coastal defenses," Luna ordered.

"As you wish, your highness," The young guard said, and bowed again.

"Thank you," Luna said, and unraveled the parchment. A gentle glow from her horn held it, and she read while she trotted on.






Your Highness, I hope this letter meets you well. I request that you put under our command the H.M.S Marauder as soon as it is complete, so we can conduct long range raids behind the lines. The ship will be in good hooves, I assure you; and we've planned an operation that, if completed, could decisively end the war. I can't divulge too much on unsecured communication such as this, but rest assured we have the best interests of the nation at heart.

May your reign last a thousand years.

Archer, Night Guard Intelligence.







Luna frowned and folded the letter back up, slipping it under her chestplate. She thought she had explained well enough that the Night Guards role was to be passive support in the war, and defense on the homefront. They didn't have the numbers for some heroic operation like this, it would end in tragedy. She would have to go to Manehatten and explain this to Archer personally. Celestia could take over for a day or so.

A short while later, she strode into her room, which mirrored her old room within the mountain. Her new role as Queen made her think that it was more proper to take up the room across from her sister, up in the high towers. It mirrored her old one within the mountain, an elegant desk beside a dresser, and several paintings of those whom she had once loved in the past. It was a long, long, time since anypony had caught her fancy, but there had been those that had. She could have any stallion in the country if she wanted, but only the best would do. The war kept her too busy to look. 

In the centre was an elegantly framed bed, and all the room had been re-painted to match Luna's 'style'. Dark purple and black, with shimmering white stars, even the thin bed curtains matched this. 

Every night, or every morning now, Luna took time to keep up her appearance as "Princess of the Night," Eyeshadow, she felt, was somewhat important to this. She also, secretly, touched up her cutie mark to make it stand out more. A thin dabbling of polish made the moon on her flank shimmer in the night light, an impressive effect. 

Confidence in one's appearance was a part of confidence in one's self as a whole, and Luna was greatly confident in her appearance.

With the moon watching over the world, she put the parchment on a desk beside the red phone that connected her to Mezza Luna- she would be informed of any developments- and disrobed, leaving her armour and shoes on the floor. She then flopped herself on the bed, and entered the half-lucid dream walking state she occasionally ventured into. Most of the time she erased the memories of those she helped, for she couldn't help everypony and didn't want to be seen to pick favorites. Those in Ponyville however, were special to her. She didn't care who knew it- they were the only ones that even approached kindness on the last Nightmare Night. 

Ponyville recieved a significant stipend as well due to this, Luna treated those that served her well. The owner of the local farm had been protesting against industrialization however, but that was a matter for another time. 

Luna was in the word of dreams, which she called 'the dreamscape'. It was oddly similar in description to her sisters 'out there' and what Twilight called 'beyond'. She never quite understood how her sister was able to 'elevate' ponies to alicorn status, having been born that way themselves. If this place had something to do with it, it just added to the mystery. A mystery that Luna was willing to allow remain unsolved, some things were meant to remain unknown.

Within an infinitely wide expanse of streaming stars the dreams of the pony population- and a few other species Luna had long since learned to give a wide berth, flowed through the dark expanse. Some of them were slow, and bobbled up and down like fluffy clouds. Others sped by, with a fiery appearance that could slam into one if they weren't careful of their surroundings. Getting caught in a nightmare was a frightening experience- even for a night mare. 

There were a few others which glowed a pink fire. These were the lustful dreams of the young. It brought infinite amusement to note that quite a few involved herself, more then her sister- by far.

She had divorced her first husband rather quickly after finding the reverse to be true in his mind.

Floating amongst them all Luna didn't see anything very unusual at first glance. A few foals fretting over school, a few thousand different variations on workplace nerves, and the occasional lucid dream. One of these was Wildcard, the changeling ambassador. He had long since displayed his uncanny lucid dreaming abilities, and Luna respected his privacy- most of the time. He had once again returned to that lake he so often did when something was bothering him. If Luna had to guess, it was probably the ever deteriorating relations between him and his home country. How it was that she respected him so despite what he was, and only he had the power to make his people the same- or they would meet the same fate as the griffons eventually.

Looking away from that, Luna saw a dreamcloud burning with fear in the distance. She could feel the fear pouring out of it, and it was so powerful that it created the effect of darkening any near it. Somepony out there was scared, terrified even.

Luna lit her alicorn, which in this place glowed green instead of the usual dark purple, and quarantined the dark dream. 

"Whom in my realm could be so afraid, and of what?" Luna said to herself, flying over to investigate.

As she did a white flash of blinding light emanated from it, and she quickened her pace towards squinting through the light. Barely visible was an island, which was now little more then a scorched hole, and two figures hovering above it.

She soon marked the first as Twilight, and hovered some distance above to better understand her fear before diving in.

"I... I did this..." Twilight stammered to herself.

"You brought us our victory! So many dead, every single one of them! You've become a god Twilight, a god of death!"

"But the children... the wives..." Twilight continued, clearly distressed.

What exactly was this, was she worried about her alicorn powers?

"All dead, all of them! The griffons are extinct, and we will bring the same to the other races! We will rule the world side by side Twilight Sparkle, and the night shall last forever!" The other yelled, and gave into a fit of manic cackling.

Luna finally recognized who it was.

It was her- Nightmare Moon.

She swooped down at the figure and blasted it out of Twilights dream.

"Enough!" She yelled, and picked up Twilight in her swoop.

She quickly deposited her on a solid line of stars, and the dream island vanished.

"Princess Luna?" Twilight asked, glancing around confused.

"W.. how are you here, why am I here?" She asked quickly.

"Again.." She added, looking down at the path of stars.

Luna was about to speak, but Twilight started frantically trotting in place before she could, stammering out something.

"I failed, I did their work for them, which means I failed as a princess. You're going to take it away, aren't you?" 

Luna saw a flurry of tears come to her eyes, but now was not the time for calming her. She needed to know what she meant: Who's work?

"Yes, Twilight Sparkle, you have failed. But you can still make it right, if you tell me what you have done," Luna ordered, a sharp crack in her voice.

"I... I helped them build their genocidal weapon. Thanks to me they'll be able to use it, and... destroy the griffons," Twilight said, and allowed her quaking body to flop onto the path.

"Who, who's weapon? Explain yourself!" Luna yelled, she was getting quite worried herself and needed to know- right now- just what was going on.

"The Night Guard! Don't you know? They're yours after all!" Twilight returned, and came to all four again.

"Wait a second... it's you! You're the evil here, they only follow your orders!" Twilight accused, backing down the pathway.

"I gave no such order for a weapon like you describe! Explain, in full, and maybe I can help you," Luna demanded.

"I got a message in Ponyvile, from one of your Night Guards," Twilight said, pointing an accusing hoof forwards. For whatever reason however, she couldn't hold it up for long. 

Luna dashed forward out of concern as her stance wavered, but was blocked by a purple field.

"Twilight, I assure you I do-"

Twilight glared at her from behind her wall. "You don't know? There's an entire labratory under Manehatten, with a hundred staff, and you're telling me you don't know?!" She screamed. 

"Manehatten, is that where you have gone?" Luna asked.

"That's right, Princess Luna. You had them lie to me, pretend to be interested in my own work. You used me, used me like a tool. Used me to complete your horrible creation, the alicornium bomb," Twilight growled.

Luna couldn't hide her shock. "Weaponized alicornium!?!" She exclaimed. Few things Luna feared, but that thought was one of them.

"That's right Princess, you can kill the entire world with it. I hope you're happy Princess, I thought you were a good pony, I respected you, I even befriended you- and now I see the truth. You never gave up, you always wanted to take over. Well you and your damned Night Guard did it. When I awaken I'm going to lay waste to that place, I've seen the power I hold before! I won't survive, but at least your horrible plans will be stopped!" Twilight yelled, fire in her ears and a sharpness in her voice.

"Twilight, you've got it all wrong! I've done no such thing, you have to let me help you!" Luna yelled, and had an idea. Glancing behind her she could feel her sister out there, she was asleep. This, hopefully, was her ace.

"Twilight, you have to believe me! I want no harm for you, or for my sister!" Luna yelled, and with a blaze of her horn a rather confused Celestia appeared at her side.

"Celestia?!" Twilight exclaimed in confusion, although not lowering her shield.

"T.. Twlight?" Celestia asked, and glancing around noticed Luna beside her.

"Luna? What exactly is going on?" Celestia asked.

"Twilight Sparkle believes I have ordered the Night Guard to kidnap her, and force her to create a superweapon. I brought you here as proof I have done no such thing, and only want to help," Luna explained.

Celestia had a sharp mind, and instantly understood. A quick nod to her sister marked that fact.

"Twilight, she's right. Luna will never do anything do hurt you. If the Night Guard has done something evil, then it was on their own accord. Let us help," Celestia said, and passed right through the shield. Luna tried to follow, but bumped into it.

"Do you realize what they've done Celestia? They tricked me, brought me to this secret lab of theirs, and took advantage of my own naivety to help them make a terrible weapon, an alicornium bomb," Twilight said.

Celestia glanced back with a questioning horror on her face, and Luna could do naught but nod.

"Twilight.. do you know what this means?"

"Of course I know what it means!" Twilight barked. "They're going to destroy the griffons, kill us, and then you can have that everlasting night you wanted so badly, 'queen'!" She yelled, pointing towards Luna, and proceeding to fall over with the exertion.

Celestia picked her up with her magic, and Luna watched helplessly. 

"Twilight, Twilight what did they do to you?" Celestia asked worriedly. 

"I don't know..." Twilight said weakly. Her form began to fade from the dreamscape, but Luna was able to strengthen it. She connected to her body, and gave Twilight some of her own strength. It was then that she finally realized why she had seemed so weak, even in a dreamworld.

"She's been poisoned," Luna said.

"No..." Celestia said, clutching her protege. "They can't, they can't have!" She screamed, Twilight continuing to fade in her arms.

"She won't die, but she's weak. Too weak to even dream," Luna said.

Twilight vanished, and after a moment of silence Celestia took a deep breath.

"I will destroy them. Every single one of them. Nopony, nopony hurts those I love. I will do them what I did to Sombra so many years past, but this time I won't hesitate," she said, and as she stood her mane came aflame.

Luna had gone from one problem to another, Celestia was referring to the fact she couldn't make herself end Sombra's life, allowing him to disappear into shadow. Celestia had vowed then never again to do... exactly what she was doing now.

"Sister, you know you can't do this. It would destroy who you are!" Luna shouted, staring up at the flaming visage of Solar Flare. 

"Who are you to tell me what I can and cannot do? I ran Equestria for a thousand years without you, and sat back while you took power to fight this war for me! I draw the line here, this has gone too far! Celestia was weak, feeble, unable to act- and now look what's happened!"

"Sister please, allow me to handle this!" Luna argued, standing her ground as her sister approached, towering over her.

"Like you've been handling it so far? Twilight is poisoned, your own Night Guard is betraying you, and now they have a super weapon!" She yelled, pointing her horn downwards threateningly.

"S... Celestia, you're going to do something you'll regret, control yourself!" Luna shouted up at her. 

The irony of the situation was not lost on her.

"I regret nothing except not doing this sooner! I should have never given power back to you, everything has only gotten worse since you came back. I should have known better then to trust you," Her sister mocked.

Luna sighed.

"If you insist on doing this, on dancing this dance, then so be it," Luna said, and shimmered as she assumed her fighting form- Nightmare Moon. 

She, unlike her sister, was in full control of herself in this form. Her hope was she could get her sister to overextend, exhaust her power, and force her to confront herself. 

Hopefully without dieing.

The risk was huge, Celestia at her best was far more powerful then Luna. The only reason she had managed to best her a thousand years ago was her reluctance to use her true powers.

Luna struck first, Blasting her sister with a radiating sphere of explosive magic force. While she stumbled backward, Luna leapt off the star path and swooped downwards opening her wings, and dodging beams narrowly as she swayed side to side.

"I should have done this a thousand years ago!" C- no Solar Flare, shouted behind her.

"You can certainly try!" Luna shouted back, firing off a hasty beam to goad her onwards. 

A much thicker beam came in reply, and charred the tips of Luna's wings in it's passing. It exploded a building in someponies dream, and into this dream they both flew. 

How were they going to explain this to their subjects? Luna wondered, and veered between what looked like low buildings of Ponyville. 

Her sister continued to hurl magic energy, setting the buildings aflame. This was apparently enough of a shock to wake their unfortunate host- leaving Luna defenseless in the open void.

Another magic beam flew past into that void, a hair thinner then before. Luna didn't know what would happen if she, or her sister, died in here- but she was in no hurry to find out. She spotted another dream, specifically a nightmare, and flew upwards towards it.

Glancing back at Celestia Luna, dodged another bolt by rolling to the side, and flew into the dream from the under the outer side. 

It was a boiling river of lava, a pony on a wooden raft in the middle watching with amazement as Nightmare Moon blew past him, followed by Solar Flare.

Flying forward as fast as possible Luna dodged explosive piles of molten rock, while her sister extended a magic field around herself and blasted through them. 

Up ahead one of the geysers adjusted it's course and flew directly at Luna, glowing with a golden field as Solar Flare tried to smother her with the rock. Luna flew directly towards it, and blew it apart with a blast from her horn to fly through. On the other side she flew upwards and flipped over, managing to get behind her sister whom shot through after her directly forwards.

"Have you gotten so old!" Luna shouted, making Solar Flare halt in the air.

"That you can't see what's right in front of you?" she goaded, and shot a weak beam right at her. It caught her sister in the chest, but did no more then only anger her further.

"I will end you!" She yelled, and her eyes blazed as all around Luna molten rock began to rumble. Taking the hint she darted upwards and barely managed to stay ahead of the stream exploding behind. She soon left this dream, followed by a stream of molten rock that flew past as she flew forwards. Taking a glance behind her sister was not far behind, but she was slowing. 

Just a little more time... Luna thought, and glanced around for another diversion. Up ahead she saw a good candidate- a pony afraid of public speaking was standing before a crowd clad in polka-dot underpants.

Which was a strange fear since they barely wore clothing to begin with, but that thought was neither here nor there. Luna shot forward with a burst of speed and dropped herself into the crowd of imagined ponies.

Solar Flare followed shortly, angrily glancing around for her target. 

"Princess! Face me like a mare!" She shouted, and let lose a beam of energy that ran through the shimmering crowd.

That ponies going to have a whole new fear now.

Luna held for a moment more, until Solar Flare was right above. Then she crouched low and sprang upward slamming through Solar Flare, and shooting up through the dreams sky.

"You're too slow!" Luna gloated, again shooting a weak beam backwards. It missed by a country mile, but it kept the impression up.

To her terrified horror she then realized that they were at the end of this section of dreams. The only thing ahead was the void, and the only thing behind was Solar Flare. So Luna stopped, it was time to face the justice that Luna had hoped would never come.

Luna turned, and faced her sister at a hover a short distance away.

"Give up?" Solar Flare asked menacingly.

Luna gritted her pointed teeth. "Never," She said.

Solar Flare grinned, but Luna saw a hint of hesitation in her eyes.

"I had hoped you wouldn't," She said, and her horn blazed with energy.

Luna matched that with her own. 

Just like a thousand years ago...

Celestia let forth her blast first, but Luna did the unexpected and did... nothing. She allowed the beam to slam into her, and was thrown backwards as the energy exploded against her body, shattering the armour she wore and throwing her backwards as she returned to her normal form. Pain, more pain than she thought possible arced through every nerve, every cell, every aspect of her very self. Only through sheer willpower was she able to remain lucid, but she couldn't stop herself from screaming out with pain. Horrible pain.

Was this what her sister had felt?

It was up to her now, whether she would finish it. There was a dark irony in the fact that it was her own Night Guard that put her in this position, and if Luna died now there would be no stopping her sister from annihilating them.

The pent up energy absorbed by her body arced out around her as she floated through the dreamscape. With each arc she shuddered, but no more followed.

"... Luna," Her sister said, and she gingerly opened her eyes to see her room, and her sister standing beside her bed. 

"... Sister, I'm glad you.. relented," Luna said, and painfully forced herself to sit up. Apparently, indeed, mortal harm carried over.

"Luna I'm so sorry, I... I d-" Celestia was on the verge of tears, stammering beside the bed and staring past her sister.

"Sister, we all have our demons," Luna said, putting a hoof on her sisters shoulder, and drawing her  "You hid yours for so long, but we all have our limits. Whoever is behind this has harmed somepony close to us, and I will see justice done- for all of us," Luna said, and embraced her sister. They, after so long, were even.

Celestia swallowed, and regained her composure. "We'll bring them down together, I want to be there when whoever is behind this	is found. I want to see the fear in their eyes when you pull them out from whatever rathole they're hiding in," She said, releasing her younger sister.

"I think I know who it is. I got a letter from an 'Archer' earlier mentioning Manehatten. Gather your centurions, I think it best we arrive unannounced," Luna suggested.

Celestia nodded. "What of Mezza Luna? Surely she has had a part in this," she asked.

"I don't think so, I haven't seen anything to suspect her of treason, even if I wonder about her methods sometimes," Luna said.

Celestia sighed. "Fine, but you better have a long talk with her after this. We almost came to disaster in a half dozen ways, and we're not out of the woods yet. If she had anything to do with this..."

Luna silenced her with a wave of her hoof. "The penalty for treason, sister, is death. If I ever find any proof, I assure you I will be swift in my judgement. For now, all we have to go on is the possibility of a rogue section in Manehatten," Luna said, and swung her legs over the side of the bed.

"Ready your centurions, we fly for Manehatten. If I have to tear the city apart room by room- we'll find her," Luna said.

Archer, you've made a powerful enemy here today, and the irony is I have saved you from an even more powerful one. Too bad I won't let you live to be thankful for it.
	


	
> Short: The Manehatten Project III
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Archer put down the phone, and steeled himself to what he had to do. His work, and his work in this facility in particular, required a certain moral elasticity, but that didn't mean he enjoyed some of the things he had done. He knew they need to be done though, and he did them just the same.

Apparently Luna had ordered the Night Guard on alert, and had departed the castle with her sister. Mezza Luna suspected that they were on their way here- to Manehatten. The order was to put the facility on lock down- nopony in or out. As for the fate of their guest, she had a stay of execution. Twilight would stay with them until such time they were sure eyes were elsewhere, and then they would evacuate. Until then she would be made to produce more alicornium, and they had several sticks at their disposal to see this through. When and if Luna managed to find them, Archer was prepared to take the fall for his commander, just as long as he managed to make some more alicornium. Hopefully Cast Iron was just as fervent in his loyalty, he was the only one outside right now that knew their location.

Of course, even if they did find them- the wall outside was meters thick. It would take days for even Princess Luna to blast it down.

"Remember Baltimare," he reminded himself. 

No cost was too high to prevent that from ever happening again.

Was destroying the griffons, forever, right? He considered, once again.

No. Of course it wasn't. But it was necessary. The long pax equestria had been broken, and if they didn't show to the whole world that any violence against them would be met with total annihilation the griffons, even when defeated now, would try again. The Saddle Arabians, the Zebras, the independent states... all of them, they would all try it eventually. If committing the greatest war crime in history was the cost of ensuring that no war crime ever again happened, that war itself became a horror of the past, and that peace reigned eternal under Queen Luna...

Then so be it. They would erase her sister as well, the nation was in much better hands without that naive fool speaking in her ear. It was a grudge they had harbored for centuries, and now they had the power to act on it.

History would call them villains, history would call them criminals; and there was a good chance that if they pulled this off they would all end up executed for their crimes. He would go to the block proudly, knowing he had helped do what nopony had the guts to. He would win.

"Remember Baltimare," he repeated.

He picked up the phone again, and patched himself through the public address. 


______________


Flankenstein was in his office, in the back of the alicornium laboratory, combing through his notes. He was going through them with a frantic pace, and most of them lay scattered behind him. He was looking for some way, any way, to put the genie back in the bottle. He had been able to steel himself to ending the griffons, but killing innocent young mares was too far, and Celestia had certainly done them no harm. This had gone too far.

He had been so blind to the reality for so long, afraid to face the horrible fact that maybe there wasn't a rational solution to this war. There was no singular scientific solution. 

If he didn't stop them nopony would remember Baltimare. They would remember Canterlot, and it would be his own fault. 

"Attention all staff," The speaker in the corner of the room buzzed, Flankenstein paused in his scramble.

"As of now the facility is on lockdown, and we are at watchcon one. You all know what that means, guards are to remain armed at all times and keystones are to be locked. Civilian staff remain in quarters, anypony outside will be unable to enter. Keep your armour on, keep your eyes sharp, and await further instructions," Archer said.

"Lockdown, fantastic! I can't even lea...."

It all came to him, the horrid realization. Twilight wasn't the only tool. 

He was never going to go home after this. Nor was his staff. They would all be discarded so this could be covered up. There would be no long retirement, looking back on what he had done. He wouldn't look back on it at all.

With that thought he realized the solution. There was a way to destroy the facility, but it would take a great deal of explosive, or magic, power. The explosives testing room was under the ocean, designed so any explosion that was too large for it would explode through the roof, and vent into the ocean. That way not only would the facility be protected, but the only thing the public would notice would be a little bit of steam from the ocean. 

If you didn't seal the room, however...

Flankenstein grinned, and abandoned his search. He didn't have the power himself- medicine and minor teleportation was about as far as his magic went- but there was a certain alicorn princess that could help. He swung his medic bag over his back, which he still kept around since he was still a doctor after all, and left his office.

Striding into the hallway, he sighed to hear a shout from behind, and glanced back to see an armoured bat pony cantering towards him.

"Hey, you!" The gruff voice shouted. Flankenstein knew this one- Halberd. He was about as smart as a brick, and as well built as one too. 

"Hey.. Halberd," Flankenstein said, slowing turning around to face him.

"We're on lockdown egghead, get to your quarters," Halberd ordered, hefting a polearm.

A polearm, despite the fact they had an armory full of rifles.

"I have to see Princess Twilight, and make sure we gave her the right dose of poison," Flankenstein said, standing his ground against the decidedly larger bat pony. 

"No. Quarters. Those are your orders. Lockdown," 

"Halberd, do you want the Princess to die because of you?" Flankenstein asked.

Halberd considered this for a second, and then gave a great toothy grin (less a few missing teeth)

"She dies anyway, who cares?" He laughed. "Stupid doctor," He added.

"Halberd, if she dies now who's going to make us more alicornium?" Flankenstein asked.

Halberd considered again, "Fine, follow me," He ordered, and spun around.

Flankenstein followed at his heel down the empty halls. Every lab had a guard, and they were all armed. He suddenly regretted signing up for this, he should have been smarter then to think the Night Guard saw them as anything less then tools. They had as much respect for him as he had for a petri dish cell culture.

Inwardly, he sighed deeply. At one point in his life he actually, apparently, had a chance with Princess Luna. Now he would be lucky if he could convince her to not cut off his head next they met. 

"Remember Baltimare," he muttered to himself.

Everything they did here had a price, and if he had to die so the Night Guard could end the griffons, then so be it. Granted he would rather not die, but he would be far from the first in this war. 

Wait a second, that's is insane. I'm smarter then this? What happened?

He put the thought away for no, no time for introspection.

He also knew full well the Night Guard planned to keep Luna in power as long as possible, but he never thought they would go as far as regicide. He should have though, he was so focused on his project it kept him blind to that truth too. Now, the princess he had played a large role in betraying was his only hope. 

"Queen's room, make it quick," Halberd said, gesturing ahead to a pair of wooden doors.

"Twilight got the Queen's room? Lucky," Flankenstein noted as he approached the doors.

"Not for long!" Halberd exclaimed, and was taken by a fit of laughter.

Flankenstein shook his head, and entered the room. Twilight, he saw, and managed to crawl half way to the door at some point, and lay face down on the carpet. She didn't look very comfortable. So he quietly closed the door and trotted up to her, gently rolling her on her back before taking out a syringe. Thankfully she was already under, so she wouldn't notice him drawing a little blood after ensuring, to his relief, that she was still breathing. Her heartbeat was weak, but still there as well. 

When he did, his light green magic circled the syringe and in his mind a series of chemical symbols flashing before his inner eye. He closed his outer and focused in on it, the stream of symbols starting to take a more coherent form.

"Sweet Celestia, they dosed her with Kathazine," he mumbled to himself as his eyes flew open with horror.

Kathazine, banned in most places civilized nations, and most of the independent states too. It had the effect of knocking the victim out for a half day, and barely able to move for a week after. 

Flankenstein rummaged through his bag, and pulled out a pair of syringes, one full of a pale white fluid and the other empty. Kathazine worked by blocking adrenergic receptors, and by simultaneously binding to epinephrine itself. Combine this with a little bit of sleeping drugs, and that would do it. In layman's terms: it turned adrenaline off, while simultaneously putting you to sleep. Too much could still kill you, but it took a large dose, certainly not deliverable through food. 

So he jabbed her with that needle- which contained a dose of epinephrine, and then bathed her with a green magic light as he plugged an empty syringe into her arm. It was a delicate task to separate a poison from the blood of a pony, but he was one of few unicorns able to do it skillfully. 

The syringe slowly began to fill with a brown substance, which was blood saturated with the poison. When it was filled, Flankenstein quickly disintegrated it with a bright green flame.

Flankenstein sat back, and watched the colour return to her body. "Well that's that, hope she doesn't kill me when she wakes up," Flankenstein said to himself.

"This isn't your lucky day," Twilight growled.



"Oh." he said, and was quickly taken by a magenta field.

"Princess, before you do anything rash..." He said, and was lifted into the air.

Twilight stood, he began to regret not waiting to give her a shot of epinephrine, and looked up at at him with a purple fire in her eyes. The purple fire flowed down from her horn and lit her mane ablaze, as the purple colour from her coat faded and was replaced with a bright white. Her eyes turned red, and her horn lengthened to become a sharped point. Her eyes turned red... and even her teeth changed. They became sharpened daggers that she bared at him. The carpet was scorched by embers that fell from her fiery mane, and Flankenstein knew that he was beholding the true power of an alicorn. It was terrifying.

"Rash? You're telling me not to be rash? You, the idiot that followed these goons into creating their weapon, lied to me, poisoned me, and probably wants to kill me?!" She screamed up at him.

"I don't want to kill you, I want to hel-"

A vast force pushed on him from all directions, and Flankenstein yelped with pain.

"You want to help me? Is that it? Why in Celestia's name would I trust you after all you've done?	I'm going to tear this place down- starting with you!" She yelled, and the force doubled.

"I... cu.. cured the poison..." Flankenstein managed to get out. Breathing was starting to become difficult.

"So? I'm sure you just wanted some more alicornium for your twisted plans." Twilight said.

The door swung open, and Flankenstein gasped for air as the pressure momentarily weakened with Twilight's distraction.

Halberd stood in the doorway, hefting his pike. "What's going on i-" He began to yell, but a powerful magenta wave threw him back out of the room, and he slammed into the outside wall with an audible crack that made Flankenstein grimace. 

The door slammed shut, and Twilight turned back to her prisoner.

"You're all nothing more then cowards. You're so afraid of the griffons that you'll kill them all, even their children and the innocent, to avoid having to fight them fairly. Let's take the logic out shall we. You want to kill all of them, because a few of them are evil. Why then, should I not kill you, because you've been evil?" Twilight asked, and the threatening pressure returned.

Flankenstein desperately searched for an argument, but he found nothing. Maybe she was right, maybe it did make him a coward. If they had succeeded, what then? His desire to solve the solution with rational science had blinded him to the ethical ramifications of it all. 

"Remember.... Baltimare..." He gasped.

"Really?" Twilight asked, doubling the pressure. "That's all you have to say? 'Remember Baltimare'? I remember it, not a single innocent citizen died. You propose killing millions, you're worse than the griffons!" She yelled.

"If you do this... are you any better?" he asked, starting to succumb to a darkness overtaking him.

Twilight released him, and he dropped to the carpet gasping for air. 

"Fine, you live- since you're too weak to pose any real threat to me," Twilight said, and magically flung him at the door, which he slammed open, and rolled out into the hall with a grunt of pain.

"Princess!" Flankenstein shouted, forcing himself to stand despite the pain of his body. He was fairly certain something was broken, somewhere. Glancing to the side, Halberd was far worse off. Those eyes would never open again, his spine had probably shattered when he hit the wall.

"I'm no Princess of yours, you treasonous evil wretch. You're a mockery of a scientist, and I'm ashamed to breathe the same air as you!" Twilight returned, striding out after him, and glowering down at him.

Flankenstein groaned, now all he had to do was anger Cadence and he would be four for four on pissed off alicorns.

"Look, Princess, I had no idea they were going to do this to you, I'm ju-" 

Twilight took a stride forward and slapped him across the face. It hurt.

"Don't you dare try and feign ignorant. 'just a scientist'. If I told a child how to make mustard gas, does that make me 'just a teacher'?" She asked.

"I-"

Slapped again.

"The answer is no, you idiot. It makes you evil. Now you can either help me fix this, and accept justice..." she growled, and leaned in close.

"Or you can run, like the coward you are," she growled, grinning madly. Flankenstein could feel the heat of her fire all around him.

He glanced down the hall, and for a second, he felt like taking her up on her offer.

With a sigh, he turned his gaze back to the twilight princess, still burning with anger. He had pursued science without regard for the ethical ramifications before, and he would never be able to truly fix what he had done. This time he still had a chance.

"I'll help, but you really do need to calm down," He said.

Twilight laughed, a deep dark laugh. "Calm down? I'm just getting started. Lead me to Archer's office, I'm going to have a word with him," Twilight ordered. 

"Just hold on a moment, his armour is magically sealed, that's why he always wears it- I think he's paranoid of all the unicorns down here," Flankenstein warned.

"Well isn't that convenient." Twilight said. "Fine, you're an ethically blind stallion- what do you suggest?" She asked.

Flankenstein took it on the chin, it was less then she had called him before- and he had to admit some truth to the insult.

"You have the power to blow the roof right off the testing room. Once you do the ocean will come pouring in, and if we leave the door open..." 

Twilight grinned. "I can drown this fire, perfect," She said, and gestured down the hallway.

"Lead." She commanded. 

Flankenstein did as asked, leading her down the empty hall. 

"If we get out of here..." He said, with a glance back at the glaring, flaming, Twilight. Embers wafted from her mane, and the floor bent with the heat of her footsteps when her hooves touched it. 

"You'll be tried for treason," she said.

	Great.


	____________


Luna, with her sister by her side and five centurions behind- those that had happened to be in the castle when they started out a few hours ago, stopped at the door to an apartment. Word on the street, as gathered by Luna 'politely asking' one of the patrolling Night Guards, was that their station chief was up here. Command structure of Night Guard intelligence had several stations in the larger cities, each reporting to a city commander. If Archer was that commander, this station chief would know how to get to him.

Centurions, she was forced to rely on her sisters own ancient order of what were effectively veteran window dressing. They were well trained, of course, but the Night Guard had always taken the active role in the nations protection. Their armour was designed more for looks then for practicality- white and gold with emeralds studding it. These were all pegasi, there were unicorns but they had to fly here after all. Rifles were slung over their backs, and clanked against the armour as they marched. 

They would have to change some of their tactics if they wanted to become more then an honor guard, starting with that damn armour.

Luna had gotten rather impatient with her rebellious section out here, and without hesitation bucked the door inward, tearing it off it's hinges. Now was not the time for asking nicely and walking quietly, it was time to swing the big stick, hard.

"Cast Iron!" Luna yelled, storming the room along with her party. Dead ahead an extremely startled bat pony found himself quickly surrounded by a half dozen rifles, and Luna's horn glowed slightly just in case he tried anything.

"Y... your highness?" He asked, and turned with his back to the window. 

Luna was smarter then that, and shut it before he could fall out of it backwards. 

"You. Take me to your leader," She ordered.

Her underling hesitated, glancing to the side and looking for some way out.

"Now." She demanded, that one of the centurions prodded him with his rifle reminded her of the fact she was relying on them to fight her own Night Guard. 

"I can't!" Cast Iron exclaimed. "They're on lockdown, I had to leave my keystone, I can't get in- nopony can!" 

"I don't care!" Luna shouted. "Take me to this place, and I'll find a way in," She said.

"You can't... I-" Cast Iron searched for some argument, but Luna had quite enough of this ridiculous play for time and lifted him up- by his neck- magically.

"How dare you tell me, Queen Luna, what I can and cannot do!" Luna shouted, and yanked him towards her through the air.

"You will take me to this facility or I will pass my judgement on you, right here. The penalty for treason is quite harsh." She threatened, Cast Iron dangling in the air before her.

"As... you... wish..." He gasped, and Luna released him to fall to the floor. 

"Good, now lead on," Luna ordered, and stepped aside for him to leave. Hesitantly he did so, and the rest of their party followed, two of the five centurions taking his side.

Luna felt a great deal of emotions at the moment, but one in particular she hadn't in a very long time: embarrassment. A section of her own Night Guard had gone rogue, which did not look well on her. Even if the treachery was limited to only this section, that she let the cancer spread at all was a personal failure. This embarrassment only fed her rage, and as soon as she found the pony responsible he would know a fate worse then death, a fate that only an alicorn could possibly endure.

Her sisters hoof on her shoulder calmed her somewhat.

"Save your fire, this one's just following orders. If you start executing the underlings like him, the others will be too afraid to come forward; back to the light as it were," She whispered.

"Treason is treason," Luna replied, just loud enough for the bat ponies sharp ears to hear.

"But I can put off my judgement... for a time," she added.

The trick was to keep them not afraid of you- but afraid of what you would do if they failed you. She had let the Night Guard run itself for too long, it was time to show them what failure meant. She would start with this section.

Reward the good, destroy the bad.


_______________


Flankenstein glanced down the next hallway, and to his chagrin spotted a Night Guard before the heavy door to the testing room.

"Alright, there's one guard. But Princess Sparkle, I d-" A scorching hoof stopped him, as he yelped with burning pain. 

"The Twilight has fallen, Doctor. A Burning Dawn rises in its place," Twilight said, striding into the hall.

Well, there's something to be said for style, and Twilight certainly had learned how to be terrifying with style rather quickly.

"You! Surrender or be destroyed!" Twilight shouted, gesturing the down the hall with a glowing hoof.

"Y... what.. who are you?!" The guard exclaimed, Flankenstein moved into the hall behind Twilight to see him shuddering in his armour, but holding his ground.

Bad move.

"You may call me Burning Dawn, and I am here to exact justice for the horrors you've done. Your dreams of genocide end here, cowards," She said, her powerful voice echoing down the hall as she slowly strode forward, the walls glowing as her fire grew to a fever pitch. Flankenstein held back last he burst into flame himself.

"Stop! Stop right there!" The guard shouted.

"Make me."  Twilight cackled, flapping open her wings.

The guard fired his rifle, the crack of it deafening in the enclosed space. The bullet melted in the air before it got within a meter of Twilight. His aim was so shaky that she wasn't even in any danger regardless.

"Oh buck this, game over!" The guard shouted, and tossed his rifle before taking hoof in the opposite direction. He didn't get far before a deep purple field closed around him.

He yelped, and gave into fearful screaming. "Help, Princess Twilight has gone insane!" He shrieked down the hall.

"Oh I'm insane?" Twilight bellowed, pulling him toward her through the air. "I'm insane? You're trying to destroy an entire species," she continued, and spun the guard around to better see her.

"And I'm insane?" She asked.

Flankenstein darted around, and pulled the fire alarm beside the testing chamber before entering. Hopefully anypony still in the facility would have enough time to get out before they took this place down. Now, how was he going to live through this? If his plan worked the facility would be flooded, and it would be a long time before the Night Guard was able to access that alicornium again. Long enough, he hoped, that cooler heads would prevail. This also had the benefit of destroying all their notes and research, the secret would remain only known by his staff, and himself. They were hopefully smart enough to sit on it, but even if they didn't only the alicorns could physically create more of this weapon. It was probably smarter to just rush the exit, but Archer expected that. They would have to destroy the place from inside, and force him to evacuate. 

"Princess Twilight, don't do anything you'll regret later," Flankenstein warned, as the alarm klaxons echoed down the hall. 

"You're right, strangely. I can't judge without a trial," Twilight said, and dropped her captive to the ground. 

"What's your name?" She demanded. Flankenstein sighed, they had no time for this- there was sure to be reinforcements on the way.

"I... my name's Buckshot, Princess," He replied.

"Princess Twilight, we have no time for this!" Flankenstein shouted, and was met with a harsh glare.

"I am Burning Dawn now, and we'll have time for whatever I please!" She shouted back, and turned back to Buckshot.

"You stand accused of treason, how do you plead?" She asked.

Flankensteins hoof met his face. They really didn't have the time for this grandstanding.

"I.. uh... innocent?" He ventured.

"Very well. The evidence against you is your participation in this farce, but that, I suppose, doesn't mean you actively participated. I, therefore, I find you not guilty," Twilight said, and released him.

He immediately blew past Flankenstein, screaming with terror. 

"You're going to give Princess Luna a run for her money, Burning Dawn," he said, and trotted inside the chamber.

"I choose to take that as a compliment," Twilight said, and followed him in.

"Okay, so what do we do?" She asked.

Flankenstein gestured towards the roof, which was notably lighter then the rest of the walls.

"Above the roof is the ocean, the room is designed to focus explosive force upwards, so that an explosion large enough to threaten the facility would vent into the ocean. Facility safe, Manehatten never notices any tremors, and we can just seal it back up and pump out the water. If we leave the door open though you can 'drown this fire'," He explained.

"Good, and I have a further idea," Twilight said, and fired up her horn.

Flankenstein did not like the sound of that...

"By the way, this means you'll live to see justice, instead of dying here," She added.

That he did.


	____________________________


Luna noticed, as they trotted down the street led by the night guard with their escort of centurions, that a few other night guards had taken to following them in the air. Every once in a while one would fly off, probably to report their movements. Luna thought of commanding them to stop, or surrender, or something- but that would make the fracturing of the Night Guard itself public. In this time of chaos it was important the citizens not know just how splintered their government really was. So she allowed it, for now.

When she got back her and Mezza Luna would have a very long talk indeed. Everything pointed to her being treasonous, as much as Luna didn't want to admit it. Her treason looked badly on herself, and to have let it get this far was a heavy mark on her competence. 

Cast Iron stopped beside a doorway, which looked to lead into the cellar of a pub. "Here we are, follow me down into the sewers and..." 

"Wait, hold on. Centurions up front, you go in the middle. I'm not going to have you run off in the dark," Luna ordered.

A pair of said centurions opened the door, the others into a formation around the. Cast Iron frowned, he was trapped.

Luna had never seen the Night Guard act like this

Had a thousand years really changed that much?

On second thought, how stupid could she have been to think she could leave them to their own devices for an entire millenia and come back to find nothing changed? Everything else had certainly changed. She had failed as much as her sister had- assuming the present was only an image of the past, and the world a stable rock. It wasn't, it was a fluid medium traveling through a chaotic void. Chaos was the norm, the order imposed on it by us only a break in it.

Perhaps the time of the sisterly rulers was over, but that was a thought for another day.

Luna followed down the stairs, finding at the bottom that it did indeed lead to a cellar. The floor, however, had fallen into an old rail tunnel a few meters below, creating a ramp that led into the dark abyss. Luna was blessed with the same night vision as the bat ponies she loved so much, but her sister didn't share this. Thusly, she lit her horn to lead the way.

Cast Iron peered down, and glanced back at the party. "It's rather muddy and stuffy down there, perhaps Princess Celestia..."

Celestria strode forward, and towered over the stallion, whom meekly cowered in her presence.

"You would be wise not to call into question my strength, or willingness to get my hooves dirty. Others have, Cast Iron, they're displayed in a row in my garden for all to see," She said.

Luna grinned as he shuddered and silently trotted down the ramp. An odd thing had happened recently, Celestia was learning to be more... aggressive. It almost seemed like a weight as lifted from her, and now she was more able to act freely. If she had been like this the whole time Luna would never have had to become Queen.

Entering the tunnel, the group was startled as the ground shook, and they covered their heads to protect themselves from falling debris.

"What's going on!" Cast Iron exclaimed, glancing around. The centurions closed in as a group, weapons drawn and pointed outwards.

Luna had never thought about it before, but these ponies were probably the only real competitors with her Night Guard- and they hadn't existed before she had... well she had tried to take over the state. Perhaps if this institution was grown it could provide a balance to keep the Night Guard in check....

"Why are you asking us you damned fool? Guide us, quickly!" Luna commanded, as her sister extended a shield to protect them from tiny falling rocks.

"Uhh.. go straight, take a le-" Cast Iron began to say, and was pushed onward by Luna as the group galloped onward.

The cavalry is coming, Twilight Sparkle. Fear not.


______________


Twilight released the pent up energy in her horn, blasting the roof into oblivion- along with the half meter of mud above it. She did this and turned back to Flankenstein with the wrath of Neptune stopped behind her, a purple field holding it back.

She didn't even look phased by this.

A shout from behind made Flankenstein turn, and he could only imagine what the dozen night guards saw. Doctor Flankenstein, with a young alicorn princess burning with magical fires of pure rage, holding back the powers of the ocean itself. 

"Surrender, or be destroyed!" Twilight demanded. 

Archer pushed aside the others, and strode through the line of his minions. 

"That's real funny Princess Twilight, but I'm not scared of you- not in any form!" He yelled back. 

"Archer... I don't think that's very wise," Flankenstein commented, before behind shoved back by Twilight.

"Oh you will be, you will be!" She shouted, and attempted to grab him with a purple field, which simply fizzled out of existence.

"The armour princess, the armour!" Flankenstein reminded her.

Archer grinned, and pointed forward with an old style crossbow. 

"I think this ab-" He started to speak, but suddenly seemed to gasp for air, and clutched at his throat. His breath seemed to shimmer faintly.

"T... Princess?" Flankenstein said, unsure of how exactly- or what exactly- she was doing.

"Your armour may be protected, but the air around you isn't. Drop your weapon, and I will accept your surrender!" Shouted down at him.

Flankenstein saw the terrified followers drop theirs and back off, as the crossbow slipped out of Archers hooves to be swept up by a cloud of purple.

She's created a vacuum around his head, sweet Celestia I never even thought of that. Never, never, anger Princess Twilight. Flankenstein noted to himself.

"Good, now you others- arrest him. I will forgive you for this, but not him," Twilight ordered.

The guards didn't hesitate, and grabbed Archer by arms. Twilight strode forward, the ocean seeping into the facility behind her.

"Now let us leave this place, where are the others?" Twilight asked

The guards glanced at each other, and prodded one of their own to speak.

"The civilians all evacuated with the fire alarm," He said.

"I see now, you're too weak to actually kill anypony, aren't you? All talk and no action," Archer spat.

"Says the pony that wanted to wipe out civilians, sure. Take off his armour," Twilight ordered.

The guards glanced at each other, but quickly realized that only Archer's armour was magically sealed. In a flash, that all clanked to the floor.

Twilight continued forward, them backing down the hallway before her. 

"Good, now another word out of you, and I..." Twilight's voice trailed off, and Flankenstein noted the fire in her mane had stopped burning.

She dropped the crossbow, and he quickly grabbed it. 

"Shoot her!" Archer ordered.

Twilight fell into his hooves, but still managed to keep her shield up. She returned to her normal form as well, just a purple alicorn.

"You idiot, if I shoot her we all die!" Flankenstein shouted back.

"If you don't, this is all for nothing! Remember Baltimare!" Archer returned.

"No, you can go buck yourself Archer, this ends here!" Flankenstein yelled, and the princess gave him a weak smile.

Archer growled, but realized he had no hope here. His guards ran, and himself shortly afterwards. 

"This isn't over!" He shouted as he ran.

Flankenstein dropped the crossbow, and bent over to put Twilight on his back. If he could get her out of here then he could take solace in the fact that he had at least managed to clean up this mess of his.

"Archer, you're gonna regret all this," Flankenstein commented, and starting forward. With a glance back he noticed the shield seemed to... sparkle.

Then he ran.


	_________________________________


Cast Iron skidded to a halt, the rest surrounding him as he pointed forwards to a section of wall.

"There, the lab is behind there!" he shouted.

Luna wasted no time, and sparked her alicorn to blow down the wall. To their surprise however, she didn't need to- it opened on it's own and a dozen ponies ran out, one of them taking flight down the tunnel before the party could react to the suddenly blinding change in light.

"Halt and surrender!" Luna ordered, throwing up a blue field to cut off the escape for the rest.

They glanced at each other, and threw up their hooves as they backed away from the door on two wobbly legs. A dozen more came out and followed, but whatever one had gone down the tunnel was long gone by now.

"We'll do anything, just don't let her get to us!" One yelled, and the others glanced fearfully at the open door.

"Who? Who has you scared so badly? You're Night Guards, get a handle on yourselves!" Luna ordered, rather ashamed that they were so afraid. She herself wasn't afraid, but was greatly worried that whatever scared them so much was loose with Twilight inside.

"Princess Twilight! She's gone insane a..." The guard trailed off, and glanced back to the door where the sound of rushing water could be heard from within. Outwards into the tunnel it sprayed, two ponies riding on the wave.

"Twilight?!" Celestia exclaimed, and parted the water to see her student laying on the muddy floor, her mane scorched by some unknown heat.

"Princess... Celestia..." Twilight said weakly, as her mentor gently picked her up.

"What did they do to you Twilight? Are you hurt?" Celestia asked frantically.

Luna noticed a second pony, and gestured for a pair of centurions to surround him. They darted over and kept him at gunpoint as Celestia worriedly checked on Twilight.

"I don't think so, I just feel... tired," Twilight said, brushing off some mud and coming to a wobbly footing.

"You were poisoned, Twilight, we came as soon as we could. Where is Archer, the mastermind behind this dark plot?" Luna asked.

The guards glanced around, and then as one looked to Luna with pure terror in their eyes.

"She killed him!" One of them shouted, gesturing to Twilight with a shaky arm.

Luna scoffed. "Princess Twilight, kill? I don't think..." The terror in their eyes forced her to reconsider, and she glanced at the young mare leaning against her sisters muddy flank.

"No, Princess, he escaped," The other said, still under the gun.

	All the better, when I find you, Archer...

"Who are you?" Luna asked, peering down at him. An older looking unicorn stallion, probably a researcher. Just barely visible through the mud on his white coat was a red cross.

"Doctor Flankenstein, at your service," He said, leaning his head against the mud in his best attempt at a bow.

Celestia was shocked, and pulled Twilight behind herself.

"You again? I should have known only somepony like yourself could have the lack of foresight to try something as foolish as this. Arrest him!" Celestia ordered, and the two centurions grabbed him by his arms. 

"What about the others?" Another asked.

"They are merely pawns, let them go. I suggest to you that you spread the word through the rest that I'm going to start cleaning up this mess," Luna growled.

They took the hint and ran off down the tunnel, Luna wasn't sure which looked more pathetic, the ponies tripping in the mud after their failure, or the night guards following fearfully. She would find their names, and they would all be arrested in time.

"Now, what are we going to do with you?" Luna wondered, approaching Flankenstein.

"I submit to your authority, Princess Luna. I only wish i had the courage to do so sooner," He said.

Luna was confused, and as her sister glared at the stallion and shook her head frantically she pushed further.

"Sooner? What other crimes have you committed you wretched stallion?" Luna asked, prodding his chest.

"I stole dozens of years from your life, and months from your memory. Princess Luna, I'm the reason your mane shimmers," Flankenstein explained.

Luna gasped, and fell back on herself. She had never thought about, but... it made sense. She didn't actually remember anything between when her sister defeated her once again with Twilight Sparkles help, and just before Nightmare Night. It had just never occurred to her to look, and she found...

"I can't remember..." She muttered, and looked up at the stallion.

"I can't..."

Her saddened gaze turned to anger, and then to rage, and then to fire in rapid succession. She leapt forward and tossed the two centurions to the side like rag dolls as she threw the stallion to the ground.

"I'll kill you for what you've done!" She screamed, drawing back a silver shoed hoof. With one swipe it would be over for him.

"Luna, stop! He's not worth it!" Celestia yelled, wanting desperately to pull her off but having to keep her student steady.

"He's not worth the air he breaths!" Luna countered, tears began to stream from her eyes as the realization of what he had stolen really hit home. All those moments with her sister, adventures she might have had and friendships she might have formed- erased. The good and the bad, the ugly and the beautiful, all lost permanently thanks to this colossal waste of flesh. Along with all that, years of her seemingly endless, but still mortal, life cut from it. What would she have seen, what could she have done, with the time stolen?

"Why, why did you do it!" Luna demanded, holding her blow back for the moment.

"Because I loved you," Flankenstein said. tearfully opening his own eyes.

"Luna stop, don't do something you'll regret!" Celestia warned.

"You... what?" Luna asked, this was not helping her confusion at all.

"Princess Luna..." Twilight said weakly, and Luna glanced at her.

"He... helped me, he... cured the poison... let him live his miserable life. Don't be Nightmare Moon," she pleaded weakly. 

If he cured the poison... why was she so weak?

Luna sighed, and backed off the stallion. 

Gesturing to two of the centurions, whom had all been watching the scene as if a strange stage play, she gave her order.

"Take him away, and put him in the deepest, darkest, cell in the Canterlot Caves. Keep him alive- barely," She ordered.

They glanced at Celestia, whom nodded, and then they dragged Flankenstein through the mud back towards the exit. Luna noted their hesitation- power had shifted.

She sighed, this was getting to be too much for a single night.

"Twilight, if you're not poisoned, why are you so weak?" She asked.

"I.. uhhh..." Twilight coughed, and collected herself. "Y'know how when you get really mad- and you sort of... change?" She asked.

Celestia did a take in shock, as did her sister. 

"I see, most of us have- although I think Cadence remains 'pure'", Luna noted

Celestia wasn't taking it so lightly. "Twilight, you know full well what that sort of power leads to. I... experienced it myself lately. It is a demon that must remain caged," she warned.

"I know, Celestia, but without that demon we wouldn't be here right now," Twilight said.

Celestia sighed, and began to slowly walk her student down the tunnel. "The past is the past, but you must learn from it," she said.

"I certainly have some history to catch up on, who was that stallion- really?" Luna asked, taking their tail.

"Talk to him yourself sometime, I'm sorry I kept it from you but it just felt more... right," Celestia said.

"I would have done the same, I understand, even if I still want to rip his head off," Luna said.

Twilight glanced back at her, and Luna shrugged.

"We were worried about you Twilight, turns out we should have been more worried about them," Luna noted, gesturing backwards where the retreating cowards had run.

"So what's your alter-egos name? It took weeks for me to find one that fit me," Luna asked.

Twilight hesitated, but after Celestia whispered something in her ear she giggled.

"Oh that's silly," She said.

"Burning Dawn, It just sort of came to me. It's all quite a blur really, but I seem to remember making a few impressive sounding monologues," Twilight replied.

"Welcome to the club, Princess Twilight Sparkle, you really are one of us now," Luna said.

She was right. Twilight had experienced the true power of an alicorn, and seemed to have a level of control over it somewhere in-between Celestia and Luna. If she could learn to harness that power as Luna did...

Luna grinned. Perhaps the student needed a new teacher...
	
	
	
	
> Dialogue: The Meaning of Time
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------





As I reach the age of 500 years, I realize that I have become greedy, and that my time in this mortal realm must end. Years pass as if weeks, days become too small to even quantify, and I think in scales so large that entire generations have passed without me noticing. I can barely keep up relationships with the younger members of society, for they think in terms almost alien to me. I have been here too long, far too long, and it's about time I depart.
Goodbye, Equestria, may the Pax Equestria last beyond my years, and may the sun shine ever brighter.




Star Swirl the Bearded, 427 After Harmony. He would perish two weeks after writing this in his journal, succumbing to hemlock tea. As per his will, he was cremated and the ashes spread in the ocean.



First Class arrived at Celestia's office as she always did, around ten minutes after her Princess had risen the sun. She was rather groggy, having had a strange dream last night. Adding to the strangeness was the fact it shared something in common with her husband- the appearance of Celestia's alter-ego Solar Flare chasing after her sister. Wildcard had described it quite well- despite the fact that he had never seen or known of Solar Flare- so how exactly did he know what she looked like? First Class knew, from reading the histories that were kept from the public at large.

Opening the doors, with a cart of breakfast ahead of her, the first thing First Class noticed was the mud tracked in on the carpet, the second being finding to her surprise that this mud led right to the Princess of the Sun, and specks of it littered her normally spotless mane. The fur on her knees had been worn right off, leaving a reddish mark of raw skin.

"Princess Celestia!" First Class exclaimed, abandoning her cart near the door, and quickly coming to her side.

"Are you alright?" She asked.

Celestia turned from reading some book, and smiled at her.

"I'm fine dear, don't worry about me," She said.

"But your knee, that can't be comfortable," First Class noted.

"Don't worry, I won't notice," Celestia said.

First Class felt a lesson coming on. "You.. won't notice?" She asked.

Celestia nodded. "Breakfast first, then the news, and then today's lesson," She instructed.

First Class brought the cart back over, and laid out breakfast. She always brought herself something, Celestia had been rather talkative lately. Perhaps it was a way to relieve the stress of the war, perhaps she just felt drawn to be motherly- Princess Twilight was going off on her own now, so that energy focused itself on her assistant.

Whatever the reason, First Class certainly appreciated these talks. Not every pony got to learn from the wisest, oldest, leader in their history. One whom had saved them from more threats than could be counted. First Class was getting to the point where she basically ran the civilian government too- although that basically just meant keeping the nobles quiet now with Luna's new laws.

She took her preferred pillow, and laid it beside Celestia. Flopping herself down on it, the morning began. Breakfast was muffins and tea, bran muffins to be precise. Despite her magic being able to cure almost any ailment, Celestia always kept herself at peak health.

She could probably use a little less cake though. Celestia was perfectly in shape... now, but how she kept herself that way was beyond First Class to know. More then a thousand years old, and perpetually an attractive fourty. Her sister aimed for somewhere around thirty if First Class was guessing right. 

"Well there's breakfast," First Class said, taking one of the muffins for herself.

"There it is indeed, what news do we have today?"

First Class reached up and took her notepad off the cart. "Spitfire reports that Waylay should be taken by the end of the week- again. General Pike requests, quote 'an armoured vehicle capable of firing from a position of impenetrable defense'. General Masse reports another attack on the south position, remarking that the changelings are "seemingly unaware of the true danger they are in, and fighting as if the result doesn't matter"." She said, and put it back on the cart.

Celestia frowned, biting into her own muffin. "More has happened in day then in a hundred years," She noted.

"What of your husband? if I understand correctly he's heading south today," Celestia asked.

First Class nodded. "Queen Luna's orders, I suppose he'll be fine, but I worry about that queen of his," She said.

Celestia laughed. "She should be worried about him. I didn't sign up for this alliance to strengthen her- I did it so I could bring her down from the inside. Your husband will accomplish this, and I'm willing to bet he'll pull it off by the end of the year," She said.

"Twilight was right that she was evil, but she can't just be assaulted head on. National change needs to come from within, and from what I've seen it's already started. Her time is drawing to a close," Celestia added. First Class noted how oddly dark it was for her to think like that.

First Class glared at her. "So he's just a tool to you too? I thought you were better then that," She accused.

"Just a tool? No. I've let him see the light, and learn the truth. He'll take that truth and bring it to his people, hopefully bringing them a better future. Don't be so easily angered, he knows the game as well as I," Celestia returned.

Her assistant sighed, gazing deeply into her half eaten breakfast. "I'm sorry, it's just that I worry. So much has happened, so much is going to happen, and I can't help but wonder if we're all going to come out of it in one piece," She lamented.

Celestia spread a wing over her, smiling warmly to sooth her soul. Which worked quite well.

"Don't worry, he'll be safe- and so will you," she said.

"Thank you, I hope you're right," First Class said, finishing her muffin.

"I know I'm right, and with that- it's time to get down to business," Celestia said.

"Tell me, how long is a day?" Celestia asked.

First Class considered her answer. "One cycle of the sun, and one cycle of the moon," she said. 24 hours seemed to obvious.

"Clever, avoiding the obvious answer. However I need to think subjectively. How long does a day feel, to you?" Celestia asked.

Her assistant considered again. "Long, but not as long as it seemed when I was younger," She said.

Celestia grinned. Her assistant had gotten sharp over the years, impressively so.

"Exactly, now take this logic a step further- what will a day be to you in another decade?" Celestia asked.

"Shorter."

"Another century?"

"Even shorter."

"Good. Now the same logic applies to weeks, months, years, centuries, etcetera. When you were a child, how long did an hour seem?" Celestia asked.

"Rather long, I was an impatient filly," First class replied.

"We all were. But now an hour is nothing to you, right?" Celestia asked. First Class nodded in return.

"A year is nothing to me," Celestia said.

First Class began to understand the point. "That's why you couldn't adapt fast enough when the war happened, it must have been like waking up and finding the world upside down," She said. 

	Very sharp.

"I'm glad you understand. I've gotten used to thinking in terms of decades, or even centuries. I had been subtly trying to give parliament power for five hundred years, nobody even noticed it had been so slow. I was planning on having elections in a century or so, but I might have to move that forward," Celestia said.

"When the war came around, I was still stumbling around worrying about whether or not the next generation would have enough food, since the Crystal Empire had melted several glaciers in it's return. That means that in thirty years some of the rivers will run dry, and we'll have to build new aquaducts. I was also planning on raising a half percent tax to pay for this, with construction starting in two decades," She continued, sipping at her tea in the pauses.

"I was born 1500 years ago, First. When I was born we all lived in mud huts at the mercy of Discord. The Zebra empire was a single city, Saddle Arabia controlled most of the world, the griffons were primitive tribals, and ponies barely lived to be fourty in general. When we overthrew discord that all changed, and for four hundred years we built Equestria out of the chaos. I watched the Zebra Empire grow and gnaw at the faltering Saddle Arabian provinces, the independent states go through a hundred kings- all falling to their own hubris, and the griffons advance. Wars then took the better part of a decade to fight, and took years to build up. It was easier then, now everything moves so quickly. Technology, I never saw technology coming. It's going to lead us into a future that I can't handle- I'm simply too old."

"Luna doesn't seem to have this problem, she's adapted quite well," First Class noted.

"She spent a thousand years in lunar stasis, give her time- she's only five years younger then me," Celestia returned.

"This is why you need Twilight, she's younger and can see the trees- when all you can see is the forest," First Class noted.

Celestia at this point was unable to hid her glee at her assistant. She was probably the best she had ever had.

"Exactly! This is also why I've taken you as my assistant, normally it's an eldery pony of state that takes the job, since there really isn't much to it in peacetime. When I saw you lose your position at the Wonderbolts though, I knew I had to have you," Celestia said, squeezing her assistant under her wing.

First Class glanced around, there was something on her mind now that she desperately wanted to ask- but she gravely feared the answer being negative. 

	Eh, buck it.

"Can pegasi be alicorns?" She asked, Celestia spitting out her tea at the question.

"I... yes," Celestia admitted.

"That's not... hold on and let me collect my thoughts- this was quite unexpected," she said.

A moment later she cleared her throat.

"Okay, so, alicorns. The reason I, my sister, Cadence, and Twilight were gifted our wings is because we proved ourselves to be worthy of not only great magical power, but also proved that we can use that power- for good. While I'm not disputing that you're an incredibly smart young mare- if I gave you a horn you would have all the affinity of a toddler. It took Twilight twenty years of nearly non-stop studying on top of her already incredible natural talent to develop her magic- the wings are really just a bonus. Flight is true freedom, a feeling beyond any other, and if I could give all my subjects wings I could. But I can't, it would disrupt the balance. So instead I am able to give it to those that prove themselves ahead of the rest." Celestia explained.

First Class was about to speak, but was hushed by a raised hoof.

"A Millennia or so years ago we had a famine that came from an unpredictable weather change- from a volcano. During this crisis, to lift the spirits of my subjects, every Hearths Warming Eve I had 'the exchange'" she said.

"The exchange?" First Class asked.

"I allowed my subjects to choose their own destiny, and for one year they could experience life as whatever they chose- pegasus, earth pony, or unicorn. Most of them asked for a reversal. There was one important pony that didn't," she said.

"Who?" First Class asked, greatly intrigued.

"Star Swirl the Bearded, originally an earth pony. He had an insatiable thirst for philosophical knowledge, and used magic to continue his life so he could ponder the greater mysteries of the universe. In the end, I think he regretted it," Celestia said.

"So you're denying me, by telling me I'll learn to regret it. Just say it Princess- tell me I can't be an alicorn," First Class said, frustrated at the response.

"But you can, study magic for twenty years and I will certainly see to it you get your wings," Celestia said.

"I ne... oh," First Class figured it out, the bargain.

	Give up your wings now, study magic, and get them back once you had proven yourself. 

"I can't give up my wings, flying is... it's too wonderful a feeling, I suppose I understand though, you can't be seen to play favourites, not without some serious reason. Twilight certainly earned her place, " First Class said, and slumped as the reality hit her.

Celestia sighed, and glanced around.

"I'll make you a deal. There is a way to study magic without a horn, at a cost," Celestia said.

First Class's head immediately shot back up, looking up at Celestia with wonderment.

"There is?" She asked.

Celestia nodded.

"All ponies use magic, but it takes a horn to control magic. I can teach you how to understand, to learn, magic- but you would have to give up your pegasus powers. Weather control and flight are your element, if you accept this you would become much less able to fly, and unable to ever control the weather again," Celestia explained.

"You would in effect be a hornless unicorn with wings, and be starting at the bottom with magic studies" she added.

"So... I could learn magic, but not actually control it? How would I know if I was learning it properly?" First Class asked.

"Star Swirl's staff. You can use it to control magic. At much greater difficulty then an actual unicorn, but it would provide a way to do so," Celestia said. "He is the one that discovered this, a few years before asking for a proper horn," she added.

"Do you know where it is?" First Class asked.

"I can give it to you, yes, but you must accept the consequences that come with this choice. You will be a pegasus no longer- not in the proper sense. You must also keep this a secret, although I suppose your husband can keep it just as well as I," Celestia replied.

First Class was relieved at that, she didn't enjoy the prospect of keeping secrets from Wildcard.

"So?" Celestia asked.

"I accept," First Class replied.

Celestia grinned. "Good, but it will take me a few days to prepare. It's not easy to do this. Come to me in three days, and until then you can change your mind," she said.

"I've never been part of the weather team, I was fired from the wonderbolts, and I married a changeling- whom does have a horn and wings of his own. I don't think I will," First Class said, excited now at the prospects awaiting her.

"Good, now I believe..." Celestia started, and got up from her muddy pillow.

"... that you have a room to clean," She said, and strode off for the door.

First Class was so taken by the idea of magic that she didn't even care. She fell back into her pillow and let it wash over her.

"First Class- Almosticorn," She giggled.

Wildcard would go crazy when he found out about this, she thought.

Celestia left her assistant in the room, delighted by their exchange. A great grin was on her face- she was so close to finally completing what had started so long ago. Princess Twilight Sparkle was set to become a great leader, but every great leader needed a great book keeper. Somepony to keep track of the finer details, which although Twilight was good at- she fretted over things that a leader really shouldn't worry about. Twilight needed to see the forest.

First Class would see the trees.



> Angry Meeting: You're Fired
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------




 Never make Princess Luna angry, it's bad for your mortal body, your immortal soul, and your mind. 




Star Swirl the Bearded, 398 After Harmony, shortly after accidentally insinuating Luna's flank was fat, and losing most of his fur in the resulting inferno.


Queen Luna, after having been humiliated by having to rely on her sisters centurions- whom were normally little more then window dressing for the palace with few exceptions- wasn't angry.

She was enraged.

Her second, Mezza Luna, had some explaining to do. Luna marched towards her office with the pace of a mare on a mission. She had some explaining to do, that was for sure. How in her own name did she allow one of her sections to get away from her like that? Her failure looked poorly on Luna, and Luna wasn't the sort of pony to calmly and collectively summon her, explain the situation, and possibly discipline her.

She was the sort of pony that just bucked a door off it's hinges, which now lay at the feet of Mezza Luna's desk. 

"Just what the hell is going on around here!" Luna yelled, standing in the doorway while her second responded with what was natural- utter shock. 

"I... uh... your highness?" She asked, trying to figure out what was happening.

"You! You idiot! I just had to go to Manehatten to put down a section of the night guard. A section of my own night guard. A section that reports to you!" Luna shouted, the last loud word enough to shatter the window to the Canterlot Mountain behind Mezza Luna, and topple her backwards off her chair.

"I... uh.. I can explain, Archer was acting on his own!" Mezza Luna pleaded, pulling herself up with her desk.

Luna strode forward, her eyes glowing white with anger.

"Oh please, do you take me for a fool? One of his underlings mentioned you by name, and you would have had to know about the dozens of night guards working for him, along with all the money that his laboratory must have cost," Luna said, lifting the desk and tossing it against the wall with enough force that it shattered, exploding into pieces and littering the room with debris.

Which left Mezza Luna cowering before her.

"You're either incompetent, or treasonous, and I have no time for either. I'm sending you to Southrop-Grumman, you can babysit the factory there until I figure out just how far your scheming goes," Luna ordered.

"Y... your highness..." Mezza Luna stammered, as a trio of heavily armoured (and armed) night guards formed up inside the doorway.

"I could pronounce my sentence now, if you wish. The evidence against you is enough to warrant it," Luna threatened.

"Y... your highness, I have been nothing but loyal to you!" Mezza Luna pleaded.

"If this is what loyalty means to you, then I want none of it. Don't push me Mezza Luna, that I'm allowing you to even continue to exist is something I might reverse," Luna growled.

"I..." Mezza Luna trailed off, and glanced behind Luna to the trio of night guards.

They merely glared back. There was no hope for her there- they thought Mezza Luna had committed the greatest crime a night guard could- disloyalty to Luna.

"As you wish, your Highness," She said, coming to all four.

"Good. You are stripped of your rank, your treasury access, and you will not be able to travel from Southrop-Grumman. It will remain your prison until I decide what to do with you," Luna commanded.

She turned her back on her second, and gestured to the other guards.

"Go with her. Drop her off at the train station and return, she is permitted to bring nothing, not even her armour. You outrank her now," She said, and strode off between them as they came forward to take their prisoner.

"If I find any proof you had a direct hoof in what's been going on, I will see to it justice is served. Treason is a capital offense," Luna said.

"You've been a great fool Mezza Luna- you had it all. Why would you do this?" Luna asked, turning back towards her behind them.

"Because you wouldn't," Mezza Luna said.

Luna sighed. "You really are a fool. If I hear of you so much as sneezing in Southrop-Grumman, I will have you arrested. Is that clear?" Luna said.

"Yes, your highness," Mezza Luna breathed through gritted teeth.

"Good. Take her away,' Luna ordered, and approached the ruins of her seconds desk as the other guards pulled her out of the room. 

Investigating her was going to take time. Luna would love nothing more then to simply hang her for what she's done, but there wasn't enough proof, yet. Execution was a critical tool of the state that Luna had turned to time to time, but only if the proof of capital crimes was beyond a reasonable doubt. All she knew at the moment was that Archer's section was in contact with her- but there was no evidence that she played a direct role.

Allowing it to happen at all was enough to sack her though, and it allowed Luna to release her pent up anger. She was able to think clearly now, having yelled a lot and smashed some stuff. Southrop-Grumman was in the middle of nowhere, and the only thing of note there was a factory and a small testing facility. Surely Mezza Luna could do no harm there. It might be more wise to arrest her, but that would inevitably become public- and any of her accomplices would surely go underground. This would take finesse, keeping her on a short leash was the best idea at the time.

Luna sighed, and stepped over the shattered desk to look out the shattered window to the mountain city. She had freed the bat ponies a little over a thousand years ago from the demented unicorn known as Sombra, and they had worshiped her for it. A thousand years without her had apparently changed them, and they were no longer the totally loyal agents of justice they had once been. Now they were their own people, with their own culture and society. The Night Guard had morphed into just another government agency, and like any government agency it looked out for it's own interests. Luna would have to fix this, starting by cutting out the cancer that Mezza Luna and Archer had spread.

She would cut it out with prejudice, but for now she had the war to focus on. 

Luna yawned. She had been awake for nearly a full day at this point, and a rather eventful day at that. The world could wait for tomorrow, she knew, and left the wreckage of Mezza Luna's office behind her. She would sleep, and this time she hoped there would be no complications. Celestia could take care of the realm today, the lines were stable and Archer remained a threat, but at the moment there wasn't much to go on. 

	Sleep now, fight tomorrow, that's the ticket. 

A short time later Mezza Luna boarded the train, the trio of guards at her side, and went straight back to scheming. Queen Luna had no idea she had just sent the lion into her den- Southrop-Grumman, also known as Location X. She was hurt, but she wasn't out yet. She had a plan. 

She always had a plan.


> Short: Bad Moon Falling
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Wildcard got up from his desk, grabbed the shotgun on top, and quickly threw the old officers coat over himself. He had prepared for this, and there was a bandolier of red shotgun shells that he had stitched to it as well. Underneath was a few plates of metal for added protection.

"It's time... to clean house," He said, with a great smirk as he cocked the firearm. 

It was already loaded though, so it spat out a shell. He meekly inserted it back into the magazine and collected himself before heading into the corridor. Two Night Guards stood, shouting angrily at Lyra.

"We don't care! We want..." They noticed Wildcard, and turned to him.

"Me?" Wildcard asked.

They were no fools, and drew their own arms- a pair of rifles pointed towards Wildcard.

"I've got something you don't," He gloated, and tore the weapons from their hooves with a magic field.

They looked at each other, shocked, just before Wildcard put a shell of buckshot in each of them dead center, sending their bodies flying backwards. Wildcard stood smirking with the smoking gun, two ejected shells clattering on the floor below him.

"Oh Wildcard!" Lyra swooned, and darted over to grasp his strong, muscular, arms. Wildcard had biceps of steel and that shotgun wasn't the only gun he had. No, he had a pair of much better arms attached to his perfect stallion body.

"I'm taken miss," Wildcard said, and smoothly blasted a third night guard that had happened in through the doorway.

Lyra gazed up at him, rubbing his arm softly. "Oh Wildcard, she's.. lucky," she sighed.

Wildcard put three shells in the magazine, and pushed her aside. This was just the start, he knew, and soon enough it would be the end.

"I'm gonna put a few holes in your half moon!" Wildcard shouted, and charged out the door into the street. From above he heard his name called as he went through the street, and saw Celestia hovering above.

"Wildcard! You're our only hope! You've got to stop Mezza Luna, she's gone crazy!" She shouted down at him.

"I always knew it would come down to this, me or her. It's gonna be me," Wildcard said to himself, and slid around the corner. Two night guards stood down the road guarding the entrance to the underground.

They didn't remain standing for long, and Wildcard leapt over them on his way down there.

"Subway to the danger zone," Wildcard smirked.

"Subway to hell!" A voice shouted, and a volley of bullets ripped through the hallway. Ahead another night guard had come around the corner, and was staring him down, firing with his rifle.

"Maybe for you!" Wildcard yelled, and blasted him into the wall with a burst of magic energy. His rifle went flying forwards, and after dispatching him with a buckshot shell Wildcard picked it up.

"The firepower has been doubled," he said, and kicked open the door to the underground train station. Long since shut down, but it was a good way to get into the mountain.

The Night Guard apparently knew he was coming, and a whole squad of them stood on the other platform across from him in the dark room.

"Give it up Wildcard, you can't take us all!" One of them yelled.

Wildcard quickly counted them. Seventeen Night Guards, all armed and armoured.

"I may be outnumbered...." Wildcard said, and put a pair of shades over his eyes.

"... but friendship is magic!" He said, and released another burst of magical energy as he dove forward.

The Night Guards were stunned, allowing Wildcard to dart into the subway tunnel. As he ran he threw a grenade backwards, and it exploded behind without him so much as flinching. 

"Can't stand the heat, get out of the kitchen!" Wildcard shouted, continuing down the tunnel.Old abandoned subway cars littered it, and one of them lit up as a Night Guard took shots from it. Wildcard ducked behind another, and counted to five before coming out screaming, firing both guns. The metal of the car was annihilated by the barrage, and the potshots quickly ceased. 

Wildcard dropped the expended rifle, and trotted over as he reloaded the shotgun. The Night Guard was very, very, dead. Wildcard assumed his form before continuing on. Shortly down the way a pair of night guards stuck their heads out of another train car.

"Did you get him?" One of them asked, trembling with fear.

"I sure did," Wildcard said, and trotted right on past. 

"What... how d.." One of them started, but was hit in the face with a live grenade which quickly went off, vaporizing the entire train as Wildcard continued on.

"Never bet on a wildcard," He smirked. 

Up ahead he saw the exit into the mountain, and took wing to zip through a volley of fire that had been awaiting him. A few of the guards flew up and followed him through the air, and he dropped his disguise.

Wildcard easily dodged their attempts to shoot him. "I didn't bring birdshot," Wildcard said, firing the shotgun back at one of them, sending him crashing into a building with a fiery explosion. "But this will have to do!" He finished, sending the other careening into a fountain.

	Ding

Wildcard felt a tingle, and noted that his armour had apparently absorbed a bullet from below.

Or rather it didn't, and he was now bleeding rather profusely. Half a centimetre of steel was apparently not enough.

He gritted his teeth and flew onwards with a renewed vigor. He was gonna kill Mezza Luna, even if it was he last thing he ever did. So he flew towards the highest window, and crashed through it.

"Half moon! Where are you!" He shouted, rolling to a stop on the floor, covered in glass.

"Right behind you!" Mezza Luna shouted, and leapt on his back. 

Wildcard was sent to the ground, and he felt his energy fading fast. He was bleeding out, but he still had a plan.

"We only need one Luna, and it isn't you!" Wildcard shouted, kicking her off with what remained of his strength and pulling a grenade off his coat. The pin he pulled off with his teeth, and he allowed the handle to fly off with a quiet ping.

"You'll kill us both!" Mezza Luna shouted, slipping on the glass in her attempt to escape her end.

"I'm already dead," Wildcard grunted, and jumped on her back.

A fiery inferno took them both, and was heard all around the mountain.

The next day Celestia held a state funeral, and they built a statue in his honor. The month of April was renamed Wildril, and Saturday became Wildday. Forever more he was known as the patron saint of a stallions virility, and his daughter would go on to kill Chrysalis, take the hive for herself, and lead them to a prosperous future. The name Wildcard was forever etched into history.

Then he woke up.

"Dammit, why do they always end with me dying?" He wondered, and removed his head from his desk. 

"Just once, could I live, just once?" He asked nobody in particular, and took a swig of cider. Glancing down to where it went, he prodded his gut and sighed.

"Just once!"

> Short: Opposition Party
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------





I would never allow a public opposition party. If I were to do so, my line would be doomed. 
Furthermore, I never allow opposition. To oppose me is to make yourself a target, I always hit the target.



Emperor Riovelli II 278-478, known as the Great Riovelli for his expansion into Saddle Arabian territory. The longest lived Zebra Emperor. History disputes his connection with Equestria, but it is known that he traveled to Canterlot quite often in his later years, and had a long correspondence between himself and Celestia. Most of these letters are in the public record, and have been a curiosity for centuries. 


Wildcard hadn't slept much last night, but for a changeling he had been sleeping more then usual anyway- so he went on with his day regardless. First Class had been oddly excited for the past few days, and had left for work earlier than usual- leaving him a nice breakfast that he quite enjoyed before heading out himself. Something was on her mind, but she was being coy about it. For whatever reason she had been spending the past few nights with Celestia as well, something was going on- but he had no idea what.

Whatever it was, he still had his work to do. Wildcard sat at his desk shortly after returning from the day's security briefing, pondering like he usually did. With most of the leadership on the front, all that amounted to was First Class telling a rather distracted looking Luna the basic overview, before she cut it short and mentioned she had some 'business' elsewhere. Today was the day, long since planned, that he would travel home with an entourage of the Night Guard, so whatever time he had before then he relished. 

Bemusedly he noted the calender hanging on the wall beside his desk. Each day had a small scribble on it, each day had it crossed out at the end.

Start exercising

Patting his gut- stuffed with today's breakfast, he let it go for today. Today he was going to confront his queen, and as much as he knew it had to be done there was still the matter of being told your entire life that this queen was a demi-god, perfect and invincible. His rational mind knew she wasn't, but not the whole mind was rational. He was afraid, as much as he didn't like to admit it.

Lyra had reported no mail from home, and he had already brought to attention the increasingly large pile of mission persons reports, so he simply sat at his office fiddling with his typewriter. It had cost a bundle to replace the last one, but it was worth it. Thinking on it, all famous ponies had memoirs, why not him? Perhaps now was a good time to start.

House Wildcard: The First Days

Before he could continue though, the door opened and a grey pegasus mare, with a mane of blond, strode in, carrying a letter in her mouth.

Wildcard looked up at her, he... wait a second bubbles for a cutie mark?

It was her.

"Wiffer fur oo" She said.

"Sorry, what?" Wildcard asked.

She spat the letter out on his desk. "Letter for you," She repeated.

"Oh, thank you," Wildcard said, and pulled a few bits from his chaotic desk drawer.

"For your time," He said, and tossed them over. She caught them in her wing, and deposited them in her bag.

"Thank you!" She said, with a great smile on her face before turning to depart.

"Hold on, I have something to say, I think you'll like this," Wildcard said, and she turned her curious head back to him.

"You, Derpy Hooves, are rather famous where I come from," Wildcard said.

"Me? But I'm just a mailmare!" She said, prodding her chest with a hoof as she turned her curious self around.

"No changeling has ever been able to take your form," Wildcard said, and leaned forward to explain further.

"Your eyes, we could never get the eyes right. You are the most unique pegasus in the entire world, truly one of a kind. Never forget it- Derpy Hooves- you're irreplaceable." Wildcard explained.

She blushed at the compliment. "Thank you, Duke. I used to think all the changelings were evil- but you're... nice," She said.

Wildcard clacked his hooves together. "Then I've done my job. Thanks for letter kid, I'm sure you've got more to deliver," He said.

Derpy tipped her head politely. "I sure do, thanks for the tip!" She said, before once again heading out.

It was all true, back in shapeshifting class their instructor had told them anybody that could properly match her would automatically pass- none could. Actually, thinking upon it, this could have an interesting strategic implication. She was the only pony in the world you could be truly sure wasn't a changeling, ever.

Wildcard smiled as she left. Ever since coming to Equestria he had learned how being nice to the ponies, and others in general, could make you feel good. All his life he had been trained to keep others at arms reach, and always be ready to stab them in the back if ordered to. He wasn't sure if it was his changeling senses of empathy, or just the lifting of his spirit, but be sure did feel good right now. 

Opening the letter, that feeling disappeared. It was in a familiar letterhead- Night Guard letterhead. The last time he had one of these it had sent him gallivanting in the south- which honestly might do his flank some good right now.





Duke Wildcard, it's time for you to go home. Meet your entourage- six of our most experienced intelligence agents- at the train station at 3PM sharp. You will travel with them to the hive, and once there you can do whatever you please after bringing them to an audience with your queen. This is ostensibly a visit of good will, so try and make it appear that way. Their job will be to ensure the Baltimarian refugees are well taken care of, among other things. Good luck.

Mezza Luna

(The rest was hoof written, and Wildcard grinned madly reading it)

I am taking charge of the Night Guard personally now, and if you ever see or hear from Mezza Luna again- contact me personally. she has incurred my wrath, and she has been stripped of her office. Complete this mission of yours for me, not for her, and when you return I would like to speak with you. Regardless of how stupid she was, this is still an important mission. The ponies you will travel with have been hoof selected by me, you can be sure they are loyal to myself and not my vain second. 

Queen Luna.





Wildcard grinned, and then he smirked, and then he was taken by a fit of laughter. He didn't know how, and he didn't care how, Mezza Luna had finally been stupid enough to piss off Luna herself. 

This, quite hilariously, meant Luna trusted him- a changeling- more then a veteran Night Guard commander. The idea was wonderful. Now, if he could take advantage of this, and perhaps find a way to play an active role in continuing her downfall perhaps he could secure a little power for himself, some proper power. A title was nice, but some level of command in the war was nicer. He still had that officer's coat, perhaps he could wear it again sometime...

Now there's a thought. Colonel Wildcard, Equestrian Duke. If he managed to come out of all this titled and with a commission, well that was just icing on an already rather larger cake. 

	Cake.

Collecting himself, Wildcard glanced at the small clock on his desk. It was noon, and so he had a few hours to burn before heading out with his entourage. Time to grab lunch. So he slid out of his chair, put on his coat (It was proving to be a rather chilly September 4th), and strode out his office door into the hall.

Down the hall was Lyra, sitting at her desk playing her lyre, which was bathed in a golden light as its beautiful music sounded all around. She had her own staff now, which left her with a good bit of spare time as the more frivolous elements of this job- mostly signing off on work orders for changeling workers, were taken care of. A small dog sat at the foot of the desk, something Lyra had apparently found when she had Wildcard's desk moved the new location.

"Heading out for lunch, don't let the place burn down," Wildcard said.

"You sure you need lunch?" Lyra said, grinning at him as she played.

"Very funny Lyra. I probably won't be back until late, looks like I've got business down south. Hold my calls, etcetera," Wildcard said.

"You got it," Lyra said, and then seemed to remember something as she sat up in her chair. "Oh, Wildcard, your wife called," she added.

"She did? Why didn't you patch it through to my office?" Wildcard asked.

Lyra shrugged. "Didn't have the time, she just asked me to send you straight home when you left," She replied.

Wildcard felt a pang of worry, since when had this sort of thing ever ended well?

"I guess I better get going then," Wildcard said, and trotted off without saying anything more. It was a short trot to home and... wait shouldn't First Class still be at her job, assisting Princess Celestia?

	Oh boy.


______________


Wildcard arrived a short time later at the gate to his estate, and gently pushed it open. The creak seemed to be enough to wake the dead, and his fur came on end as he glanced around the yard. It was clean... cleaner then it was this morning. Closing the gate behind him he proceeded inwards with the pace and silence of a trained spy, alert to any sound or...

"Welcome home!" First Class shouted at him, happily swinging open the door to their home.

Alright, a little rusty apparently.

Wildcard paused, her bright mood was just adding to his confusion. 

"Geez Wildcard, you look more like you're breaking into the place, you do live here you know," First Class said, noting his crouched form, ears down and a leg still in the air.

"I... uh... " Wildcard put it back on the ground, and adjusted his coat in an attempt to look dignified.

"Hi?" He ventured.

His wife grinned ear to ear, and leaned on the door as she gestured at him with a hoof.

"Oh, oh I get it now. I came home from work early, called work without talking to you, and now you think you're in trouble," She said, looking at him amused.

"Well... yes," Wildcard said.

"Wildcard, come on now. If I was mad at you I would have stormed your office," First Class said.

"I imagine you would, I suppose. You've never been one to beat around the bush," Wildcard said, relaxing and trotting over to the door.

"You've got to stop thinking the worst of everything Wildcard," She said, and beckoned him inside. "I made pie," she added.

Wildcard perked right up and followed her inside. Shortly after hanging up his coat and entering the kitchen he noticed a stack of books on the table. Taking a look he was mystified to find they were all books on magic. The one on top was the oddest.

"A foals first lift" 

Wildcard knew that book, he had read it decades ago. The hive had it's own selection of stolen books, and everyone was required to have a grasp on basic magic.

"Isn't this premature? We don't know if Odo is going to be a unicorn," He said, concluding the books were for their foal.

"Oh those aren't for our foal, they're for me," First Class said, placing a steaming pie beside the stack on the table.

Wildcard's confusion turned up to 11.

"Uhh, you realiz..." He trailed off, taken by the wonderful smell of that pie.

"Sit, I'll explain," First Class asked (or rather ordered), and Wildcard did as such, plopping his flank on the floor.

First Class hefted a staff- a beautiful shimmering staff that almost exuded mystery and, to Wildcard's utter shock- the fork ahead of him barely wiggled in a pale blue light.

Looking up as his wife in utter amazement he saw her concentrating, and then with a grunt of exhaustion from her, the shimmer faded.

"D... did you...?" Wildcard stammered, amazed and confused and possibly even flabbergasted.

"Yes. Yes I did," First Class said, and with a deep sigh leaned the staff against the table before sitting down. 

"It's hard though, it's almost like my brain is being exercised- and I've certainly never used it like that before," she said.

"T... you.." Wildcard struggled to collect his thoughts.

"That's... impossible..?" He wonderasked.

First Class giggled. "Nope, but it is hard like I said. Celestia did something for me Wildcard, she gave me a chance to learn magic. All I had to do was give up my weather control magic, and well..." 

She flapped open her wings, which looked notably thinner. 

"It's a little harder to fly, but I can manage well enough," She explained.

Wildcard figured it out. Now he knew why Celestia had chosen a pegasus as her assistant. She thought on terms of decades, and now he was able to glimpse a moment of her plan.

"First, do you have any idea what this means?" He asked frantically.

"Well, it means I can learn magic. I have to use this clunky staff to control it, but in 20 years I might earn myself a horn," She replied, smiling at the thought.

"Bigger, grander. Who else got to become an alicorn?" Wildcard asked.

"Twilight did a half year ago, Cadence around a decade ago. Why?" First returned.

"And now you, also taught by Celestia, are on the track to become one. Don't you realize what she's done?"

"Well, I imagine she wants me to become Twilight's assistant once she takes over, if I'm guessing at all this right," She said.

"Not her assistant first, her Prime Minister," Wildcard said, and grinned madly as he collected his realization.

"Princess Twilight has been her student for 20 years, she's learnt all her wisdom and, specifically, how to be a kind and just leader of ponies. She, in essense, is being trained to become her replacement as head of state," He said, and gestured across the table to his wife.

"You have spent the same amount of time being trained as her replacement as head of government, heck you've been running Equestria for the last month!" He exclaimed giddily.

"Think about it, it's genius! Not only will she end up with a monarch that's saved Equestria a half dozen times- but she'll have a brilliant statespony behind her, you!" Wildcard stated gleefully.

First Class blushed. "Oh I don't do that much, I just... assist Celestia. Luna makes most of the decisions now anyway," She said.

"And you carry them through, make sure the 'little details' are worked out. You are the most important pony in the go.... " Wildcard said, and another piece of the puzzle came to him with a gasp.

"She's been planning this for a long time, hasn't she?" Wildcard wondered.

"Planning what?" His wife asked.

"Think about it, I'm married to the pony that's going to lead the government when Celestia moves on. Who am I? The changeling that is going to do his damnedest to find a better future for my people- a future not involving Chrysalis. Not only has Celestia found a way to move Equestria forward, but she's found a way to re-unify the races- through us," He said.

First Class understood it all, and simply smiled as she did.

"That's absolutely brilliant. I suppose that makes us... the shape of things to come," she said.

"I can go for that, the 'shape of things to come'," Wildcard repeated.

"It's like seeing parts to a puzzle bigger then your own life, I wonder what else she's been planning?" Wildcard wondered.

First Class reached over, and cut herself a piece of pie. "Probably more then we'll ever know," she said.

Wildcard nodded. Wisdom.


______


A few hours later, taking some time to stay at his wife's side as she began to study magic- at the level of a foal- he departed his home with a new fire in his heart. Celestia apparently thought that he had it within him to take down Chrysalis, and that was a shining endorsement. If she thought he could do it, well then it was time to get started. 

Moving a hoof to his thigh, the familiar cold steel of what was there relaxed him. He was armed, and if Chrysalis tried anything he would end it right there, whatever the consequence. All he wanted out of today was some sort of sign his wife, and his child, would be safe. He also had a few choice words to say to 'her highness'.

Choice words indeed.

He strode down the street towards the train station, and was delighted to see a change in the way the other citizens were going about their day. The Night Guards that had been so prevalent a week before had been replaced by police, and things seemed to be coming back to normal. 

The recruitment posters and few buildings that still remained burnt out was a reminder that wasn't true, but at least the Night Guard was being reigned in, finally. Wildcard knew full well that Mezza Luna wouldn't go quietly, but for now everything was fine.

	Yep... everything was just fine...

When he arrived at the train station he quickly found his entourage sitting by themselves near the end. Six bat ponies, wearing what he assumed was the ceremonial armour of the Night Guard, something he had never seen before. It was a full body suit, in a gleaming pale purple that covered the entire body, with a decorative eye at the chest made of gold. From this ran a stream of gold rivets to the back, in a waving pattern. Over the back was a saddle made of what looked like purple velvet. They wore silver horse shoes, similar to Luna's, on their hooves. Interestingly they wore no helmets.

"Good afternoon Duke, you're a little early, but that's fine," Their apparent leader said, shuffling over and offering Wildcard a seat at their bench. His coat was an almost black grey, with a dark red mane that stood out. 

Wildcard stood.

"Afternoon," Wildcard addressed, looking them over closer. Three colts and three mares, and they looked oddly happy for Night Guards. None of the angsty frowns or perpetually plotting eyes, they each smiled warmly and nodded politely at his arrival.

"I can guess from your stance that you've had some... experience with Mezza Luna and her ilk. I assure you, Duke, that we're not all like that. She likes to imagine she knows better then Her Highness, but that's... well that's basically treason. She's gone now, and we can breathe a little easier," the leader said.

"Oh! But where are my manners! My name is Malgavian," He said, and gestured to his side.

"Echo," the mare next to him nodded. A dark puple coat, well taken care of, with a braided mane of a slightly lighter purple. 

"Ion Trail," the stallion next down the line. His grey coat was rather dirty, and his mane ran wild. Wildcard wasn't sure if was brown, or black, or just dirty.

"Moonglow," the mare next. She had tan coat, and her mane was, interesting, bright orange. If Wildcard had to guess, she was half-breed.

"Carina," the last mare. She was quite a sight, her dark grey coat set with an almost shining silver mane. Wildcard had to remind himself he was taken. 

"And finally, my brother, Helm," Malgavian finished, gesturing across the row to a smiling bat at the end. His brother was larger then the rest, yet his smile put Wildcard at ease. He did look almost exactly like his brother too.

Wildcard, satisfied that they seemed on the level, took his seat beside Malgavian.

"Well, I've got to say I wasn't expecting such kindness from the Night Guard. Which must seem ironic, coming from the changeling ambassador," he joked.

"I can't really blame you," Carina said, sticking out from the group. "Mezza Luna always was half a moon short," She said.

The group laughed, and Wildcard couldn't help but join them.

"So, ambassador, what's with the duke thing?" Ion Trail asked.

"Honestly? I think of Chrysalis the same way you think of Mezza Luna, but I can't rely on Luna or Celestia to put her in her place. So I've taken it upon myself to make sure she can't hurt me- by becoming a duke," Wildcard said.

"I get it," Ion said. "She hurts you, she hurts a citizen- a noble no less- and we whip her flank good," 

"That's the idea," Wildcard said. 

How open he was being about his feelings, to a group of Night Guards no less. That's one thing life in Equestria had taught him- being honest felt good. At this point he didn't care who knew what he thought about Chrysalis anyway, if she was going to do anything there was no stopping it now.

"Well, if she tries anything while we're with you, we've got your back. Our mission is to make sure the Baltimare refugees are okay, and try and get a headcount on how many soldiers your queen has been holding back. General Masse has been complaining about it," Malgavian said.

Wildcard nodded. Chrysalis was, for whatever reason, holding her forces back even while the Legion fought just miles south of them to hold the griffon backed Confederacy of Independent States at bay. They weren't much of a threat, but it was draining resources best spent elsewhere- such as on the ocean where Spitfire's Wonderbolts and General Pike's Marines remained stuck at Waylay Island. It was taking far too long to take it, the enemy had suddenly gotten brilliant. It had become a war of attrition, which Wildcard knew Equestria could win, but the cost was mounting.

Down the line the train rumbled out of the tunnel, tooting its horn. Crystal Imperial trains were quite something to behold, a reminder of the fact that it had once been run by a madman at war with the very world. He still had good style though, his trains were rumbling steel behemoths with thick angular armour. The older Equestrian trains were out on the east, but out on the west security was tighter, and the steel trains of the Empire ferried important goods and ponies everywhere.

Malgavian rose with his detachment, and adjusted his armour as he did. "That's our ride. You're in the middle of the formation, Ambassador." he said, reminding Wildcard that they did have a mission here to perform.

So Wildcard rose as well, and took a dignified stroll at the middle of the group. There wasn't much of a crowd, which would normally be odd for 3PM on a weekday, but those that were there watched the group with awe. Wildcard soaked it in, it wasn't often he got to feel 'official'. In the sky a grey pegasus looked down at him, and he smiled back up. 

These ponies, this Equestria, this is where his people's future was. Not in the south wasting away in some valley, ruled over by a vain queen with aspirations of dominating her old home. No, it was here, amongst the friendship of their original family. That was it then, Wildcard thought, that was the argument that would bring Chrysalis down. It wasn't a friendship with ponies, or an alliance with ponies, it was more then that. The changelings would come home. A home that they had been apart from for five hundred years. 

He would save the changeling race by merging back with the ponies, ensuring their immortality that way. It was an argument, and a plan, that he would see through or die trying.

The group came to a halt before one of the train carriages, which had an extended roof. As they did the conductor met them, and bowed low as he did.

"Malgavian, Ambassador, it's an honour to have you aboard," He said, and trotted over the door of the carriage.

"Princess Celestia has ordered her personal car be connected, it's all yours. If you need anything I'll be where I usually am- up front," He said, as the door opened silently, extending a short staircase as it did.

"Thank you, we'll rest easy knowing the train is in such good hooves, conductor," Malgavian said, giving a polite nod, and led the group inside.

"Wow," one of them said, as they spread out around the cabin.

Wow indeed, the room almost seemed bigger on the inside. The walls were panelled with a dark wood, and the floor was a magnificently soft red carpet. No chairs, just a series of pillows and low tables. Celestia had never been one for chairs, apparently. On the far end was a fireplace built in beside the door, and on the other a bar. A bar of cake and other confectionary delights.

Wildcard looked back at his flank, and then over at those cakes.

Eh, buck it.

So he, and his new friends, took something of their own and lay on purple velvet pillows with the fireplace on to keep away the chill of the mountain fall. Outside the beautiful sight of all of Equestria turning shades of red and orange was visible as they travelled down the mountain. Wildcard took a seat near the window, and had a small pile of donuts beside him. 

"Everybody check your weapons, we're not going in here blind," Malgavian ordered. Wildcard glanced back to see that this ceremonial armour covered up holsters, and each one of them had a sidearm similar to his own. 

Malgavian noticed Wildcard watching. "We might trust you, but we're under strict orders to defend ourselves if anything happens. If they've so much as ruffled a refugee's mane, we're ordered to link up with the legion and fall back on the hive, sacking it," He said.

Wildcard nodded. It was a dark, but reasonable, plan. This was the real purpose for this visit, Wildcard was only along as a cover story.

"If Chrysalis is hurting ponies, then you'll get no complaint from me," Wildcard said, revealing his own weapon.

Malgavian nodded. "Good," He said, holstering his weapon again.

"Our day is going to go like this. You get us through customs, and when we arrive you'll lead us to your queen. After that we'll leave to talk to the refugees, and you can do whatever you want. We leave at 9PM," Malgavian said.

Wildcard thought for a second. Get them through customs, armed.

"You got it, just tell me if you decide to start a war, I would quite like a heads up," Wildcard said with a smirk.

"If we do, our orders are to get you out first. Her Highness thinks you're the key to keeping the changelings already in Equestria in check if things get... heated," Malgavian said.

Wildcard snorted. "I may be a pawn, but I'm a well protected pawn," He joked.

"More a knight really," Echo commented.

"Dukes can't be knights, can they?" Ion asked.

"Doesn't matter what the title is," Wildcard said, "We're all equal on the field,"

Ion put a hoof in the air, as he began to speak. "Now ain't that the truth, we all bleed red, a-" Wildcard cleared his throat, interrupting Ion's speech.

"I bleed green," he said.

Ion shrugged. "Most of us bleed red, some of us bleed green. We all have four hooves, and we're all in this together. A group of pony friends," he said, before quickly adding "and changelings too."

Wildcard smiled, "You were right the first time- we're a group of ponies,"

"But.. you're a changeling?" Ion said, confused.

"One and the same Ion, one and the same," Wildcard said, and left it at that. He turned his gaze out the window and watched as the scenery changed from the boreal forest of Equestria proper, to the dusty desert of the south. In the winter it would be just as dry, but far colder. A wind was blowing down from the north today, causing a chilly dusty wind to blow through everything. It would be a few hours they would reach the border, so Wildcard curled up for a nap in the meantime while the night guards chatted amongst themselves.

"... he looks kind of like a tyre, y'know- round." Wildcard heard somepony whisper.

"... oh shut up, like you're perfect..."

He shrugged it off and went to sleep. 

A few hours later a knock on the door woke him up, and he opened his eyes to find that the night guards he was traveling with had hidden themselves along the wall. Malgavian nodded towards the door, and so Wildcard trotted over to open it.

Outside was a changeling warrior standing in the chilly breeze, armoured and armed. Wildcard stuck his head out the door and peered down the length of the train, a good many more of them were checking it off.

The warrior coughed and Wildcard turned his attention back that way.

"Customs inspection," He said.

"There will be no customs inspection for this car," Wildcard said.

"But... I have orders to inspect all the cars," He argued.

Wildcard glared down at him. "Who gave you this order?" He asked.

"Eta-Gamma, down the line," The warrior said, gesturing towards the rest of the train.

"You know who I am right? What's my ra... my name?" Wildcard asked.

"It's... Eta-Delta," The warrior replied.

"Exactly," Wildcard said. "I am superior to your Eta. There will be no inspection for this car, that's an order," Wildcard said, and quickly shut the door.

With his hoof still on it, he sighed deeply. Poor guy was just trying to do his job.

"Good work, we knew we could count on you," Malgavian said.

Wildcard frowned and trotted back to his spot. "When Chrysalis hears about this she's gonna demote the poor guy, even though he had nothing to do with it- it was all me," He lamented.

"Couldn't be helped, and hey- greater good right?" Malgavian said, returning to his own seat.

"Oh don't give me that 'greater good' garbage, I thought you were different then Mezza Luna," Wildcard returned.

Malgavian clenched his hoof, and Wildcard noticed he had clearly disturbed the rest too. 

"Careful there, ambassador. The difference between us and her is we are working for a greater good here- not just our own personal gain. You too, unless you plan on taking over the hive for yourself," He growled.

"Sorry, I guess I'm just on edge," Wildcard said. "I've got to go tell my Queen- whom I'll remind you I've been taught since I was born was basically perfect- to go buck herself."

"Well that sounds like the greater good to me!" Ion noted.

"Telling off Chrysalis, to her face, alone. You're a brave mule, I'll give you that," Malgavian said, and the train rumbled back forwards.

"Oh she won't hurt me, but you six? Going into the hive? If they want to kill you those sidearms aren't going to stop them. They could do you in, and send back six copies. So be careful," Wildcard warned.

"They could do the same to you," Malgavian said.

Wildcards eyes grew wide with horror, he had never actually considered that. A changeling replacing another changeling had never happened before, but that was true with a great many things over the last few months. They couldn't possibly...

Malgavian laughed as Wildcards face grew pale. "Hey don't worry about it, I'm sure somepony would notice," He said.

	Would they?

There was only about an hour more in their journey after reaching the border, and Wildcard spent it pondering. Three months ago he had his first real 'naked' meeting with a pony- explaining to Princess Celestia what Twilight had been doing in the south. She had been surprisingly eager to help, despite the fact he had snuck his way into her quarters. As soon as she heard 'twilight' and 'invasion' she jumped to action, and only a few hours later the situation was solved, and a few hours after that the alliance formed. It wasn't Medulla or Pike that had ultimately saved the day- it was Celestia, and she wouldn't have been there without himself.

Barely a day after that he set off for his new job, which he thought would just be simple desk work. Back then he didn't know any of truths he did now, or have any power. He was a poor, unknown, changeling in a broken down office. Now he was wealthy, married, and an Equestrian Duke with an embassy and estate. All this new power seemed almost... natural. It felt good too, and he wanted to do good with it. As far as he could tell he had, and now he wanted more.

Changeling agents were taught in a general sort of way the ideas of statecraft, history, and political sciences. Often one would be sent to replace a noble in order to get some pull in a court, and rarely one would even replace a leader directly. This required a knowledge of the political game, and that was where Wildcard had excelled more then anything. Most of his missions had been what the others would find boring- politics. Replace a noble, and weaken the state from the inside. Even when this sort of mission failed, it still caused a lot of chaos, and was an interesting way of experimenting. Now he was quickly becoming able to put that theory into practice, for the betterment of his people, not the aspirations of his queen.

The train horn blared, and it's pace slowed. Out the window Wildcard saw they had entered the forested valley. All the trees had, like those in Equestria, turned shades of orange and red. Fall had come early, but it was more beautiful than ever before.

"Alright everypony. Keep your head on a swivel, stay close, and don't let any of them get too close. If we stay as a group they'll have to take us as one, and by Luna we can take down a lot of them if they want to go that way," Malgavian said, adjusting his armour and once again checking his weapon.

"You're not really expecting them to try anything, are you?" Echo asked.

"No, I'm not, but that doesn't mean I'm going to let my guard down," Malgavian replied, and pointed to Wildcard.

"You're on point, we'll follow. I've got no idea where anything is around here," He ordered.

Wildcard got up and trotted to the door. "Fine, you could have just asked for a map or something," He noted.

"Mezza Luna never trusted you enough, this is her plan after all," Malgavian said.

"I hope she rots, she had me on latrine duty for Luna's sake," Ion complained.

Wildcard smiled, pleased to finally meet some night guards with a sunnier disposition then usual, and opened the door.

To his mild surprise Chrysalis stood outside at the end of a red carpet, with a wall of changeling warriors with gleaming armour on the sides. He had never considered an official greeting, but it did make sense. So he strode out with his entourage behind, and swallowed his fear. There she was, his queen and original ancestor, dressed in a green robe with her pointed crown on her head.

Probably should have worn something better, but a peacoat would do. 

"Your Highness," He said, giving a curt bow, "What a pleasure to be greeted by yourself, I'm humbled," he added.

"Oh but the pleasure is all mine, Ambassador Wildcard. I see you brought the esteemed guests from Equestria with you. Such a pleasure to meet yourselves, bat ponies are as much our friends as anypony else, and you are welcome to enjoy our hospitality," Chrysalis said, her voice in the usual tone of regal authority.

Last time Wildcard had met her she had dismissed him, and now she had called him by his name, his actual name- not his serialized changeling number. Wildcard was getting respect, which he absorbed into his ego.

"Thank you, your highness, it's good to be home, and may I introduce Malgavian, Ion Trail, Echo, Carina, Helm, and Moonglow," Wildcard said, gesturing to his companions whom bowed in turn.

"It's an honor to meet you all," Chrysalis said, and turned towards the hive itself. 

The fortress hung, as always, like a monolith overshadowing the main courtyard. That was flanked by the four large barracks, two of which had a giant Equestrian flag hanging from them, and was probably where some of the refugees- the lucky ones, lived. The rest in a camp outside the hive proper, kept well protected by warriors. There were only a few thousand changelings, and the warriors would sleep outside if ordered, and a large portion of the workers were in Equestria, so they had the space to spare. The courtyard had become both a market and meeting place for the refugees, shops here and there were the hub of trade between Equestria and the Hive. Baltimarian refugees on both ends had become the middle ponies all around, selling imports here and exports back in Equestria. Both were benefiting greatly, and it kept the Baltimarians occupied, and employed.

It was good to be home, but Wildcard was fraught with worry. Chrysalis was acting almost as if he was an equal, which was entirely unexpected. 

"Now, if you'll follow me, I'm sure you are eager to speak with your friends that have been enjoying our company for the last few months. I'm sure you will find that everything is in order, and they are well taken care of," Chrysalis said, and the train of ponies and changelings moved on from the station.

Wildcard took a position directly behind her, flanked by warriors on either side. Malgavian and his unit behind him, taking a sort of double line formation. They too were flanked by warriors, and Wildcard spared a quick glance back. Uneasy darting of eyes back and forth, they clearly felt vulnerable. Wildcard came to his queens side.

"You're not going to try anything, are you?" He whispered.

"If I was, I already would have," She quietly replied, as the group entered the courtyard.

Chrysalis halted them, and gestured over it with a golden shoed hoof. "Your countrymen are free to assemble, trade with us, and come and go as they please. We have both benefited greatly from trade relations, and the Badlands partition has been of great benefit," She spoke, and Wildcard could see a few ponies in the courtyard regard her with a smile, which was... odd.

They didn't seem afraid of her, they didn't stop what they were doing, they didn't even really seem to notice that the queen of the changelings was a dozen meters away. 

"This is all well and good, and I assure you that Equestria thanks you for this kindness, but there's a rather... delicate matter we have to discuss," Malgavian said, stepping forward beside Wildcard.

Chrysalis turned and smiled. "Well out with it then, you have nothing to worry about here, and I have nothing to hide," She said.

Malgavian paused for a moment, and then continued. "I'll be blunt, your highness- where's your army?" he asked.

Chrysalis smiled again, and pulled one of the warriors close. "Malgavian, take a look at this stallion. How well do you think he would do against a heavily armed griffon- in the air or otherwise? The vast majority of our warriors aren't trained for an extended conflict like this, and the only century with any real experience was unfortunately lost a few weeks ago- in Baltimare," She explained.

The warrior didn't seem to appreciate the comment, but bore it professionally. 

"That's a reasonable enough explanation for why you haven't sent a force out with the Wonderbolt's, but the Legion is fighting barely 30 kilometers from here, we've gotten complaints that you haven't been helping," Malgavian said.

"Oh but you misunderstand- we have. I have almost the entire population in the south, and I assure you the results of my... skilled diplomacy, will soon become apparent. Equestria need only maintain the line a little longer, and this ridiculous 'confederacy' will collapse as it's spine is torn out," She said.

Wildcard saw right through this, and hoped Malgavian did too. She was only buying time... for what Wildcard wasn't sure.

"I see, I will report this to my superiors," Malgavian said. 

"Now, if you don't mind, we would like to spend some time with our fellows that have been apart for so long," He said, and with a flash his unit came forward to his side.

"Do as you please, I have nothing to hide," Chrysalis said, and with a nod the flanking warriors faded away to return to whatever they did normally. Malgavian nodded, and took his squad past into the courtyard.

"Now," Chrysalis said, leaning towards Wildcard, "I imagine you have something to say to me."

Wildcard squinted his eyes and met her gaze. "Oh I do, shall we find somewhere private?" 

For a moment the pair locked eyes, and then Chrysalis grinned, pointedly baring her fangs, before turning and leading him around the courtyard towards the fortress.

"I have been expecting your return for quite some time, Duke. You've made quite a name for yourself amongst the ponies, and acquired a significant amount of power. You remind me of myself, when I was young," She said.

"Really? I don't recall trying to make myself an alicorn princess," Wildcard said, receiving a harsh glare in return.

"Fine, so you know the truth. Keep it close to your heart, you never know who might be listening," Chrysalis warned, and threw open the fortress doors with Wildcard in tow, striding right past the two warriors standing outside, as they hastily saluted.

"That's not what I mean anyway, what I mean is you want power, and you clearly have the strength of will, and clear mind, to take it," She said, and led him up the red staircase that spiralled around the long hollow centre of the fortress. Along it's edge were doors that went here or there, and the top led to the rooms of the elite.

"I didn't steal power for my own glory, queen, I earned what I have- and I mean to do well with it," Wildcard said.

She glanced back with a grin. "Are you sure?" she asked.

"Of course I'm sure," Wildcard replied.

"Really? I was once," Chrysalis said, as the pair reached the top of the stairs. Ahead was the throne room, and she strode towards it confidently. No guards stood at the door.

"I'm sure, it was a masterstroke of virtue to warp ponies for your own twisted desires, and then take us from our home to live fearfully in this dank valley," Wildcard said.

Chrysalis strode into the throne room without replying, and Wildcard after her. Beside her throne, with the hive visible out the balcony. Beside it was... a second.

Wildcard stood in the doorway examining it as Chrysalis took her seat on her own. It looked new, and was equal in size and height to Chrysalis 

"Do you like it? Your commander, Medulla, certainly does, but he's just a follower, he does what I say, and in turn I allow him some power. Right now he's in the south, working to fulfill my desires. He doesn't have the vision that it takes be a real leader. You.. however," She said, and crossed her legs over.

"You do," She added softly.

Wildcard pointedly remained at the doorway. "I'm married, Chrysalis, or have you been falling behind on recent news?" He asked.

Chrysalis laughed, and moved to a more... flattering position. "Oh I'm well aware, but why settle for a pony second to Celestia, when you can have a queen that's second to none?" She asked coyly.

"I think I can settle for a First Class ticket. You can't seriously think I'll turn my back on her, and Equestria, that easily do you?" Wildcard asked.

Chrysalis frowned. "Turn your back on them? Have you forgotten where you came from? Have you forgotten who raised you, fed you, taught you? I gave you everything you have, I made you who you are. You can never escape that, as much as you try. You're different then the Equestrian ponies, and you always will be," she said.

Wildcard smirked and approached. "Have you forgotten? I know who you are, what you've done, and where we're from. You're just a distorted alicorn, and we're just lost ponies. I'll lead us home, and we're more like them than we are different," he said.

Chrysalis sat upright and glared at him. "Do you realize what you're throwing away here? I offer you power, power without a frivolous and naive princess looming over you. With you at my side, and all that you know, we could conquer Equestria! Don't you realize why I've always wanted to dominate them? I want to lead us home too Wildcard- as conquerors!" She said, slowly increasing in volume.

"Really? You're so vain you never were able to give up your jealously of Celestia have you? She's able to rule with justice and her subjects follow her willingly, you have to rely on lies and isolation. Tell me, if they all knew what I do, would they stay?" Wildcard asked.

Chrysalis shot out of her seat, snarling at Wildcard. "They would follow me to the end! That is what changelings are! My changelings! You... you're nothing, not a pony or a changeling. A pathetic worm stuck in between two worlds, but you will never truly be part of either," She shouted, and loomed over him.

Wildcard stared up and matched her gaze, his blue eyes glowing to match Chyrsalis' own green eyes.

"I used to fear you, but now I've figured it all out. You're a coward, too afraid to put yourself in harms way, instead you have others to do it for you. That's why you created us, we're just a meat-shield to you," Wildcard accused.

Chrysalis laughed. "Do you really thing think that? Do you really think I'm some sort of mindless evil monster? I made you because you're superior to the ponies, and when I lead us back I will raise the entire species! Look at us, we have wings and horns, no longer would the species be divided into three, we would be unified as one great whole. With myself at the top, of course," She said.

"You're insane," Wildcard said, frantically processing this idea.

"I'm insane? You know who's really insane? Celestia! She has the power to make every single pony equal, a paradise of alicorns, but instead she hordes this gift for a select few, selected- of course- by herself. Is she really any different, or any better?"

Wildcard considered. "Yes."

"Really? Well do explain, oh honourable Duke of Equestria," Chrysalis demanded.

"Celestia earned her place as ruler, and her subjects have respected it for millennia. She rules not for herself, but for them, and now she has seen that they are ready to rule themselves. In order to do what's right, Celestia is willing to move on, to give up her power, would you ever give it up?" Wildcard asked.

"Of course not, I am the superior mind, and the natural, just, ruler. Now clearly I have made a mistake in thinking you were a stallion of vision," She growled, and turned her back on Wildcard.

"Leave, and if you oppose me you will be a target. This war won't last forever, and I am a very patient mare," she threatened.

Wildcard grinned. "Thanks for the window of opportunity," he said.

Chrysalis glared back at him. "Get. Out." She commanded.

Wildcard strode out confidently, knowing that she had revealed her weakness. She could nothing against him while she still relied on Equestria for protection. No amount of infiltrators in the south could protect the hive if the legion fell back on it. She was as powerless to stop him as she was vain.

What she said about Celestia he took deeply into consideration though, and her plan for the changelings wasn't entirely evil. Perhaps there was some sort of merit to it, a more egalitarian future with the end of the three races, instead merged into one. If this is what Chrysalis had planned in the first place, why would Celestia have stopped her? There wasn't any solid reason for it. Perhaps it was simply impossible to work practically, and the changelings are what came from her attempt. 

Of course that raised the question of whether they were inferior, equal, or superior to regular ponies. Was it possible that they were really a step forward, an ascension? It was an idea that at the very least had some merit.

Now where did Chrysalis, or rather Crystal Star's at the time, husband fit into all this? And what was that thing Zeta had found at the burial site? Wildcard had half a mind to turn around and ask, but that bridge was burned to a cinder now. 

He strode out into the courtyard, and taking a brief look at the sun he guessed it was around 7PM. A few hours to burn, so he strode down into the chaotic open air marketplace. It felt good to be home again, but he saw it from a new perspective now- an outsider's view. He trotted over to a tent, a sign out front advertising 'Genuine Hive Mushrooms'. Probably cheaper here then in Canterlot, so why not?

Wildcard strode in through the cloth door, and was quickly greeted by a changeling with bright blue eyes, standing behind a short counter. All around were bags of mushrooms, and Wildcard placed one on the counter.

"How m..." He began to say, but quickly realized he had no money.

"I uh..." Wildcard awkwardly rubbed the back of his neck, "Don't suppose you can spot me a few bits?" Wildcard meekly asked.

"Buddy, come on, since when have we ever had to pay for anything?" The changeling said, and pushed the bag over to Wildcard.

"Hey wait, I get it- you're the ambassador right? Spending too much time in Equestria, you should come back home more often," He suggested.

"Cutie mark give it away? I wish I could but I've got... responsibilities," Wildcard said, smiling and taking the bag. 

"I hear that, Chrysalis keeps us busy. Wouldn't have it any other way though. It's something the ponies will never know- we're all part of a greater whole, working as one according to her plans," he said.

Wildcard sighed, this stallion was clearly smart, and yet still deluded. This was his main obstacle, not Chrysalis herself. What he had to defeat was 500 years of brainwashing.

"Are you sure that it's a good plan though? If she ordered you to jump off a cliff..."

The changeling snorted. "I would jump, otherwise I might as well just go live in Equestria and give this all up," he said.

Wildcard nodded. "That's the choice then, thanks," He said, and turned to leave.

"Well... not sure what for, but you're welcome."

Outside Wildcard strolled around, wasting time as he snacked on a few of the mushrooms. A vote, perhaps that was the key. Pressure Chrysalis into calling a vote, a referendum on her leadership. That wouldn't accomplish anything if he wasn't able to actually convince more then half to vote against her however, and that would take work.

In his stroll he walked past several dozen vendors. Most of which were run by changelings, selling local goods to the Baltimarians. Celestia had a rather large 'refugee fund' and the hive was clearly bilking her for every half bit. Here and there an Equestrian pony ran a stall as well, selling their own imported wares- often as part of a chain. Equestrian food- especially cider, was extremely popular in the hive. Here and there pairs of warriors in glimmering new armour strode around, keeping a careful watch on everything. The hives military was small, and unfit for long term conflict, just as Chrysalis had said; but she had bought huge amounts of state-of-the-art equipment. Each warrior had a rifle slung on his back, and the ones standing watch on outer watchtowers stood beside great cannons pointed skywards. A few of those, along with spotlights, could be seen here or there on the ground too. If it ever came to blows between Equestria and the changelings again, their victory wouldn't be nearly as easy as when Twilight invaded.

Equestria, that was the key! More then half of the leaders, and nearly the entire worker force, was up north, generating huge sums for the hive. They didn't get their assignments from Chrysalis, they got all their contracts passed down....

"From me," Wildcard grinned.

It was himself who had made the original connections, and he could at a whim give any of them better- or worse- assignments. Each had a clause allowing for emergency severance, something Wildcard put in if the Hive ever needed them back quickly. He, in essence, held their comfortable Equestrian lives in his hooves. Perhaps that, and their time in Equestria, was enough to convince them to support him.

"Hey Wildcard!" He head a gruff voice shout behind him, and turned to see Malgavian standing with his group,

"Where have you been? It's almost nine!" He shouted down.

Wildcard glanced upwards at the horizon, and threw away his empty bag.

"Sorry, got lost in my own thoughts!" He shouted back, and galloped to their side.

"Looks more like you got lost in a bakery," Ion said, jabbing him in his soft ribs.

"Yeah well, looks like you got lost in a pigsty," Wildcard returned.

Ion grinned as the group moved on. "Ohhh I am gonna like you, if you're ever free, look us up, could always use another poker player," he said.

"You realize gambling's illegal in the mountain, right?" Malgavian said, as he led them to the train station.

"Who said we would be in the mountain?" Ion retorted.

Wildcard chuckled, and a good feeling came over him as a very, almost imperceptible, green glowed around him. It wasn't anywhere near what he felt around his love, but being around a half dozen friendly ponies was fairly enjoyable in itself.

Shortly they came upon the train, while the group was chatting amongst themselves. Wildcard was too deep in his own thoughts to hear much, but the gist of it seemed to be that the changelings were, quote 'on the level'. Which was good enough, violence could possibly be avoided if Wildcard was able to complete his new plan.

The conductor greeted them, and they seemed to be the only ones boarding the train at the time.

"Welcome back, You've got the same car, at the back," He said, gesturing down the line. "You're the only ones- the rest of this is just sulphur and such heading for the Crystal Empire. There's no real hurry, since they've got a good stockpile, so I'll put it to you: wanna take the scenic route around Ponyville, crossing the Unicorn Range, and then back east- or take the direct route?" He asked.

Malgavian shrugged and looked to Wildcard. "I don't care either way, what about you?" 

Wildcard grinned. "In that car? Let's take our time," He said.

"Fantastic!" Carina said. "I bought a book on your history," She said, hefting it in her hoof.

Wildcard trotted towards the car with them. "Oh I can do better then that," He said, opening the door for them and heading inside.

"You can?" Carina asked.

Wildcard nodded. "Gather around ye fellows, and learn the true history of the changeling race. A tale that will shock your very soul!" He exclaimed, and turned to them with the moon rising behind through the window.

They all made their eyes glow and stared him down. "Wildcard, you realize we've fought the undead right? If souls can be shocked, ours are the least likely to," Malgavian said, his own eyes glowing red to match his mane.

Wildcard frowned. "Fine, but gather around anyway because it's time for this to be known," He said, and placed a pillow on the floor to flop down on.

The others did as well, and Wildcard had his audience.

"Okay, let's get started. Celestia has had more then one student, right?" He asked.

Carina nodded. "Stands to reason, she is fifteen hundred years old," 

"Right, but for whatever reason all of them before Twilight failed. Five hundred year-"

Helm got up and trotted for the bar.

"What? Leave history to the eggheads, just give me a sword and tell me who gets it," He said.

"That sort of thinking is why Half Moon rose to power, history is important you know!" Carina angrily retorted.

"Yeah," Helm said, munching on a pastry, "but that's why I've got you,"

She shook her head and looked back to Wildcard. "Ignore him, continue," She said.

"Soo five hundred years ago one named Crystal Star- for some reason- gets denied the alicorn treatment," he said, and noted how intently Carina was listening. The others politely did too, but she was the only that really seemed to care.

"She gets enraged by this, and uses dark magic and twisted science to try and bypass Celestia, and here's where it gets fuzzy. She manages to do it- but not quite all the way. She makes herself, her husband, and a group of followers into the first changelings" He said.

Carina gasped. "I had no idea that was possible, do you have proof of this?" She asked.

Wildcard shook his head. "I wish I did, but it was destroyed in Baltimare. You'll just have to take my word for it, although a scrap of evidence remains in the care of Doctor Colgate in Canterlot," 

Carina nodded. "I'll have to talk with her, continue."

"From here she takes her followers, and leaves Equestria. Whether she was banished, or left on her own will, I'm not sure. Originally the hive was much larger, but uhh... you ever notice how we're all male?" Wildcard asked.

Malgavian spoke up, eyes wide in a wonderous disgust. "You're kidding me, that's disgusting!" He exclaimed, as in the background Helm coughed out the remains of whatever he was eating.

"Yeeeaaah, so this has led to basically our slow extinction. The only way to save our race, is to re-unite with the ponies we came from originally. Chrysalis wants to do so by force, but I have an alternative," Wildcard said.

"Well that's good, if they ever try anything we'll fry the entire hive, I won't allow a crazed incestous half-alicorn threatening Equestria," Helm said.

"I don't blame you, and if it comes down to that- I'll be with you. I would rather see us end in fire then slowly under that insane, hole filled, mother b-"

The train horn blared, and a crackled came through the intercom.

"Turning onto the west tracks now, quite a view tonight," the conductor said.

Wildcard stood from his spot so he could move to the window. "That's all for your history lesson," he said.

"It was a pleasure, I'm going to have to do some digging when we get back and see if I can uncover anything about your 'queen', if I do I'll give you a call," Carina said.

"I would be grateful, thank you," Wildcard said, and took a seat with a view of the window as Malgavian fired up the fireplace. 

For the next few hours he watched the beautiful countryside in the moonlight go past. The thin wispy clouds in the sky contrasted wonderfully with the sparkling stars, the entire universe visible in the darkness. What other worlds might lie out there, with their own problems and peoples? Would they find peace, or would they be destroyed by war? Perhaps there were worlds where magic ran wild and free, usable by all, and others where it didn't exist at all. World with lush blue trees that talked to each other through telepathic winds, worlds of a single giant biomass that pondered its own existence into eternity. 

In his poetic pondering, he also decided on something. If he was going to call a vote, he would find himself running a political party. It would need a name, and the one he chose was this.

The Changeling National Unification Party

All that was left now was to get home and actually get started. First he would have to type a resignation paper, so he can detach himself from Chrysalis and truly strike out on his own. Thankfully for him he had been pondering enough that in a six hour flash they arrived back at Canterlot in the middle of the night- 3AM. 

Wildcard and the night guards disembarked, and with a quick series of goodbyes Wildcard set off home. He passed a good many night guards on his way there, but now he felt comfortable with them around, and noticed that the street lights were all turned on now. Luna had tamed the night, hopefully Mezza Luna would stay out of affairs from now on. Happily striding into his home, being quiet so as to not disturb his sleeping wife, he hung up his coat and trotted over to his personal typewriter in one of the other rooms. Tomorrow he would call a meeting of the changeling leadership in Equestria, but first there was something he had to do.

With a quick tapping of the pedals, a line printed out of the machine. A line that would change everything.

I resign

Interrupted before he could continue, keeping up the pattern of the day, a white light shone into the house from outside. Wildcard looked out the window to see the Princess of the Night standing in his yard.

Oh, forgot about that.

Wildcard stood up, and quietly opened the glass door that opened to the yard.

"You're highness." Wildcard bowed."I apologize for.. neglecting to meet you, I've been rather occupied."

"I was in the neighbourhood anyway, removing the cancer that my previous second allowed to flourish is proving difficult," She said, and closed her wings up before approaching.

"Duke Wildcard, Malgavian tells me you've made some decisions today, and that thankfully the Baltimarians are being treated well. I assume there is truth in both these statements?" Luna asked.

"The Baltimarians are fine, for now at least. Chyrsalis knows he has more to lose then gain by attempting anything now- without Equestria the independent states would roll over the hive- with griffon support," Wildcard replied, gently closing the door behind him.

"Good, I expected as much. Frankly if we weren't at war with the griffons, we probably would be with her," She said, and seemed to realize something as she glanced upwards, and then back to Wildcard.

"You called her Chrysalis, not your 'queen', why?" she asked.

Wildcard grinned, and met her gaze. "She's not my queen anymore, I'm packing it in Princess- no more fake ambassador games. The days of plotting and planning, hoping and wondering, those are over. Tomorrow I'm going to start actively working to bring her down, and she can't do anything about it while she depends on you for defense," Wildcard replied.

"I see, but you realize I can't intervene in internal affairs, correct? I can protect you, but I won't give you an army to usurp the throne," Luna warned.

Wildcard nodded. "I wouldn't dare ask, and I would rather a peaceful transfer of power anyway. What I do ask however, is this: Tomorrow I will call a meeting of the changeling leaders in Equestria, and I want every single media outlet in the country there, and a solid guard," Wildcard said.

Luna considered for just a moment, "Easy enough, consider it done. I owe you that much, and if you can get that demented mare out of our hair, then you'll have my silent support," She said.

Then her gaze turned to a glare, and her voice deepened. "However, Wildcard, I will only warn you once- ff I see any sign that you are just a repeat of your queen, just another vain ruler in pursuit of personal power above all else, I will destroy you," She threatened.

"Heard and understood," Wildcard said, not shifting an inch from his position before her.

"Good, now... if you're going to be a proper duke," Luna said, and prodded his chest, "You need a commission, but you're rather out of shape, so I took the liberty of signing you up for officers training, which starts next week in Ponyville," She said.

Wildcard frantically searched for an excuse.

"I have to work on bringing Chrysalis down, I don't have time for that!" He argued.

Luna laughed. "Chrysalis can wait three weeks while you work off some of those tax payer provided lunches, Duke. I rule you now, and you'll go where I tell you," She said.

Wildcard sighed. "Fine, but I am getting a commission out of this, right?" He asked.

"Certainly, we could use a pony like you, and apparently you're free now, just work off those pounds first. " She said.

Wildcard nodded his acceptance. "Fair enough, but I'll have my hooves full trying to oppose Chrysalis, I don't know how much use I can be in the south, or out east," He said.

"Oh no, not out there, we need somepony on the home guard- and with Mezza Luna proving insolent, all our experienced commanders on the front, and royalty busy with our own things, I think I will let it fall to you. Finish this officers training, and I will give you your orders," Luna explained.

"You realize this means you're entrusting Equestria to a changeling, one that has barely been here three months, right?" Wildcard asked.

Luna glared at him. "Under close watch by myself, yes. Screw up, and I'll have your head," She warned.

"Fine. Now I've been awake for nearly a day and would like to get some rest, good night Princess," Wildcard said, and turned his back on her to go inside.

Luna let the minor disrespect slide, and took to the sky. Wildcard was turning out to be rather capable, and now he had jumped the gap from 'earning' to 'taking' power. If he gave into the same sort of gluttony his queen did so long ago, then she would have to stop him. Giving him a minor role in the war would be a good way to see how he would handle real power.

A thousand years ago it was so easy, just behead anyone that got in your way. Not anymore.

She sighed, and glanced back at the moon behind her. Maybe she was getting too old...

"No, never," She said to herself.

While the ballad of politics continued it's eternal dance in Equestria, out over the eastern oceans the Wonderbolts had finally managed to find their victory on Waylay Island, at a heavy price. They had their own run in with the night guard, almost crippling them. Spitfire stood on the highest hill of the island, looking towards the east as through the flames all around the griffon fleet that had held for so long was finally retreating, a half dozen wrecks in the water left behind it. 

She turned and stared at the ruins of what had once been a forested paradise, but was now a burnt out grey mass of dust and muddy sand. 

It had been a long few weeks, but finally it was over. They could continue on now. What happened during those few weeks changed her, forever.


	

	
	
	
	
> Short: Night Files
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------




 There are some things in this world, and more importantly beyond our world, that not even I will adventure to discover. I know a great many truths that I must ensure remain hidden from the populace at large, for their fear would be matched only by their horror to understand what lurks beyond our own safe sphere of influence. Celestia knows more than I, and I dare not ask. I only wonder- do the watchers think as we?


Star Swirl the Bearded, 255 After Harmony. 



	We are not alone.



CANTERLOT: SEPTEMBER 12th 1001, 9:47AM


NATIONAL POLICE HEADQUARTERS, BASEMENT


Detective Stargazer sat pondering at his desk, which was covered in literature of questionable sourcing. Equestrian Weekly News, Files of the Unknown, Changeling Report Monthly, the sort of tabloid sensationalism that made the general publics eyes roll. The room was otherwise mostly bare, except for the boiler and a corkboard with blurry photos of 'flying saucers', newspaper clippings of ghosts, and other paranormal stuff. 

The only other thing adorning the wall was a poster of the earth, orbiting the sun; and around it- the moon. Along the bottom the bold words 'I WANT TO BELIEVE'.

The detective himself was a younger stallion unicorn, whom was thankfully excepted from the draft by sheer luck of the draw- S happened to be the first letter of his name, wasn't called in the draft lottery. His cutie mark, although he preferred to refer to it as a 'talent mark', was a pair of binoculars atop a starlit sky. As was traditional it represented his destiny- to watch the stars. Not even he truly knew what he was watching for, but he would know it when he found it. His build was average, and his mane was slick black on a tan coat. He almost always wore a black suit under a trenchcoat, with everything he could need in the field carefully assembled in it's pockets. The usual stuff, like a notepad and his badge, but also a magometer. 

He was, like the rest of his peers, both old and new at the policing game. The old guard had taken care of those duties, but with the war came a need for a dedicated civil police force- and thus the National Police Force was born. It took it's structure from the Manehatten Police Department, and usurped the national jurisdiction of the guard. Anything that went beyond the borders of a single town became their domain, or else they could be called in to help with serious matters that a local police force couldn't. Normally they would be in charge of Canterlot security too- but the Night Guard overtook that duty now. Stargazer himself had been a detective with the guard for a dozen years before, and was moderately versed in his art. 

Stargazer was taken by a series of articles about disappearing griffons that centred around a region called Souththrop-Grumman, reports that had cropped up time and time again, but never in any of the major papers. Equestria Daily hadn't even reported on it, which was unusual considering they normally reported on anything under the sun- fact or fiction. It was clear then, that somebody was censoring the media and only the less... reputable sources... managed to get through. They had all been written by one "C. Sunspot" whom had been a good source of information in the past. He had no idea who she was, but she seemed to know what was going on behind the scenes somehow. 

Each case was a clear example of an 'abduction'. The victim would leave home, mostly around nightfall, and would never be seen again. In each case there was a large amount of lights reported in the sky in the area, and frequently there was even sighting of aircraft. Aircraft, in West Equestria. The government refused to even speak on this, deepening his suspicions. He had read enough, and today he was going to get to the bottom of all this. If he could get to the bottom of this, then he would finally have the proof he had always been looking for. His first stop would be the archives, perhaps there were historical cases that could provide some clue.


NATIONAL POLICE HEADQUARTERS, ARCHIVES


A few minutes later Stargazer arrived at the archives, which was representative of the fact the "National Police Headquarters" used to be just that- the archives of the 'old guard'. The actual HQ of the old guard was now the nerve hub of the war, a signals centre connected to a vast network underground. None of the officers were allowed inside, or even near, that building. The Night Guard did not respond politely to any questions either- something Stargazer found out first hand when investigating the theft of spellbooks from Celestia's School. 

Just inside the doors, with nearly endless shelves behind her, a bat pony sat at a long document-littered desk, capped off with a red phone. She didn't seem particularly enthralled at her job, and had her hooves up on desk while she flipped through papers. Stargazer noted that it was odd to find a bat pony here- shouldn't she be out with the Night Guard? Thinking on it, they seemed to do a whole lot more then just guard the night now, you couldn't swing a stick outside without one seeing you- day or night.

Hearing him approach she put down the newspaper she was reading- but not her hooves. Her grey coat and dark purple mane was rather striking, as was her lack of the usual Night Guard armour that betrayed her cutie mark- a spear.

"Need something, officer?" She asked, disdainfully. 

Stargazer frowned inwardly, and hoped to get this done quickly. The Night Guard was everything he hated- insular, secretive, and with eyes everywhere.

"I need the key for major crimes, I have some abduction reports to look up," He explained, halting before the desk.

The clerk leaned back and opened one of the drawers. "Abduction cases were moved to the third floor, along with all the unsolved Night Files," She said, and pulled out a keychain.

"What's your clearance?" She asked, somewhat flummoxing Stargazer- since when did he need clearance?

"I uh, I don't know... top?" He tried.

The clerk sighed and picked up the phone, spinning the dial. "What's your name?" She asked.

"Detective Stargazer," He replied.

The clerk, whom Stargazer began to wonder about- why a bat pony? Why here? - put the reciever to her ear and he twitched his ears to listen in on one half of the conversation.

"There's a 'Detective Stargazer' here to see the Night Files... Oh is that right?... Well I won't worry then, I'll send him right in..."

She clicked the receiver down and handed Stargazer the keychain, grinning.

"E-12, third floor," She said. Wasting no time Stargazer strode off behind her into the archives proper, glancing back to hear a stiffled laugh.

A minute later he was before the door to 'E-12', and had a thought as he stood before it. Abductions had always gone to major crimes before, why would they be moved to, what he assumed was, the files of the Night Guard they had inherited?

Fumbling with the keychain for a moment he found the key, and opened the door. To his surprise he was met with the cool mornings breeze- and a rather dizzying view of Canterlot from three stories up. The room was, in essence, gone- along with the ones below and above. Only a thin sliver of floor ran along the outer walls. He knew the HQ was attacked, but he had assumed it was some important room, the armory or something- why would this be attacked?

Gingerly stepping outwards onto the remains of the floor he slid along the wall and reached for what appeared to be the only file cabinet left. To his dismay, it was melted so badly that it wouldn't open. However, he noticed a single document on the floor, covered in a bit of rubble as it flapped in the wind. He levitated it fourth and grabbed it, quickly backing out of the room lest it prove unstable. 

Dusting it off, Stargazer read what he could of the burnt document- greatly intrigued.




 NIGHT G--RD REPORT. TK422 AUGUST 27TH 970
TYPE: ABDUCTION
CASE CODE: MAGNIFICENT


HOSPITAL IN V------ REPORTS A CHILD WAS ABDUCTED. CHILD WAS PHYSICALLY 'DEFORMED' AND SUSPECTED TO BE A CH----

[Unreadable burns]

CHANGELING INVOLVEMENT -----

[Unreadable burns]

POSSIBLE -------





Stargazer grinned to himself and pocketed it. For whatever reason somebody had gone through some lengths to hide this, but he had it. Changelings behind the abductions, that could be it. If the Night Guard was covering that up...

His ears perked up as his eyes widened, in a mixture of excitement and horror.

Infiltration?

Quickly darting down the stairwell, his mind ran wild with the possibilities. With the Night Guard in it's pocket the changelings could abduct whomever they wanted, and replace them with their own agents. The entire government could be infiltrated by now- how high did this go?

Surely the Princesses would be safe, nobody could touch them. What of their advisors, and their assistants though? If the Changelings had the ear of the Princesses, then they could bend the nation to their own will before invading it. Chrysalis could even bend the military, s...

The majority of the military was over the ocean.

They could colonize us and we wouldn't even realize it. The war would be over without as much as a shot- and the Wonderbolts would never even know.

Slamming the door at the bottom of the stairwell open, he darted through the aisles of reports and tossed the keychain back at the clerk before darting outside into Canterlot proper. 

Next stop: Changeling Embassy. Perhaps if he put the screws to the 'ambassador' he could find out more. He could also case the place in case he needed to do anything further.


CANTERLOT: SEPTEMBER 12TH, 10:32AM


CHANGELING NATIONAL EMBASSY


It took Stargazer a while to find the new changeling embassy, finding out it had been moved from a tiny office in Canterlot Castle to an old library, long since abandoned when the Crystal Empire rose again, with it's own great library in need of an update. Outside on the street entrance a changeling stood guard beside the heavy metal doors. Above him was a sign flanked by the flag of the Hive.

CHANGELING NATIONAL EMBASSY

Stargaze put a hoof on the doorway, and immediately a pike gently fell on top of it.

"Name and Purpose," The guard demanded, blinking both eyes rapidly as he did.

Stargazer turned and glared at him. "Detective Stargazer, police business," He said.

The guard paused, and then pressed the pike a little harder. "Amnesty, we have amnesty," He said.

Stargazer was somewhat surprised, changeling warriors were supposed to be dumber than this.

"Only for crimes committed before coming here, not after," Stargazer said, staring him down.

Another pause, another increase in pressure. "Warrant," The guard stated simply.

Stargazer hid his shock. "I don't need a warrant just to talk, now let me in or I'm going to get a warrant and find out where you live. I..." 

He was slammed back by the pike, the guard moving in the way of the door glaring down at him. Stargazer deeply regretted mentioning 'police' to a changeling. 

"Warrant," It repeated, hefting the pike in both hooves. 

Stargazer sighed and accepted his defeat, brushing himself off as he came to. This was going to take more work then he had expected, but he know who to talk to next. 


CANTERLOT CASTLE, CELESTIA'S OFFICE


Getting into the castle was much easier, Stargazer just had to flash his badge at the guards. No pony had ever threatened any of the alicorns before, and so long as you had some sort of reason to be in the castle nobody really questioned it. His was to seek audience with Celestia, and get her to force that guard to let him in. The embassy was sovereign territory, sure, but it was still within Equestria and thus her jurisdiction. Diplomatic immunity is one thing, abducting citizens and infiltrating the government was another. 

Outside her office he was relieved to find a regular pony guarding it, in the old armour of the guard. Stargazer was filled with a feeling of nostalgia for a simpler time as he approached.

The guard noticed him. "Afternoon, can I help you?" She asked. Her pink/blue mane was quite fetched and went with the armour.

"Is Celestia in? I have police business," Stargazer said, flipping out his badge.

The guard smiled at him. "She'll be happy to see you, I think she's starting to get bored," she said, and stepped away from the door. 

"Thanks," Stargazer said, and pushed the door open. 

As it closed behind him, Stargazer saw the former de-facto ruler of the nation staring out the window, pondering some thought greater then his own imagination. A low circular bed lay in the centre of the room, surrounded by books and scrolls. He felt kind of sorry for her, she had done her best to lead them- but ultimately failed. Now here she was, relegated to a small room in the corner of her own castle while her sister saw them off to war. 

Perhaps Luna was in on all this, and had worked with the changelings to take over. Perhaps the griffons themselves were infiltrated, and this was a conspiracy on all sides. Perhaps, but without proof nobody would believe him.

Thinking on it, where exactly was Luna and the Night Guard the day the changelings invaded Canterlot a year ago? Rather odd that they happened to not notice- or help- at all.

"Your Highness? My name is Detective Stargazer- are you busy?" Stargazer addressed. 

Celestia took a deep breath and turned her head, looking at him with a tired expression on her face. "Not at all." She said.

"Your Highness..." Stargazer bowed before continuing. "I suspect the changelings of playing a part in reported abductions in the west, and have been prevented from seeing the ambassador about it," He said.

To his surprise Celestia perked up, and stood. "It's about time somebody started looking into that, what do you know?" She asked quickly.

"Well..." He produced the burnt report from his pocket, seeing it immediately fly through the air towards Celestia. "... I found this in the archives, the only remaining abduction report after both they, and the old Night Guard documents, were destroyed in the attacks a few days ago. I don't have to tell you that something is strange about all this, and I'm determined to find the truth," Stargazer said.

Celestia's eyes widened when she read the document, flying it back over as she spoke.

"You said this was with the files of the Night Guard?" She asked.

"That's right, I think the changelings..." She hushed him with a hoof.

"The changelings are our allies, don't forget that. If they dared abduct any of our citizens I assure you I, and my sister, would know about it- and justice would be quite harsh," She said. 

Stargazer was about to argue the point, but was hushed once again. 

"You're on to something here, detective, but you've got your sights on the wrong villain. Talk to the changeling ambassador, he can explain better then I can." Celestia said. 

They're watching me, I can't say more. A voice rang in his head. It almost seemed to ingrain itself into his memory without him actually hearing it, and he had the sudden desire to quickly leave.

Stargazer pocketed the document, and looked at the Princess as he tried to sort the confusing information. 

"I uhh, thank you your highness.... I'll do as you ask," He said, unsure of himself. 

"Good, but promise me one thing- come to me when you find the truth, and nopony else," She ordered.

"Not even your sister?" Stargazer asked.

"You would never make it that far," Celestia said ominously. "Now go, before prying eyes notice you were here," She warned.

Stargazer bowed and made a hasty retreat, a cold shiver of fear going down his spine. Just what had he uncovered?


CANTERLOT: SEPTEMBER 12th, 11:02AM


CHANGELING NATIONAL EMBASSY


Arriving again at the embassy Stargazer was pleased to see the guard nod and silently step aside, allowing him to breeze past inside with not more then a nod. A green coated mare sat behind a desk immediately inside, the flag of the Hive behind her. She was typing something, surrounded by thick stacks of paper. 

"Detective Stargazer?" She asked, not looking up from whatever she was typing.

"Yes," Stargazer said, glancing around. A rather nice lobby with a soft carpet. The clanging and grinding of some sort of construction echoed down the hallway to his side. 

"Third door on the right," She said, pausing to gesture down the hall. 

Stargazer thanked him and trotted down the hall. Glancing beyond it he saw a work crew renovating the great open space that used to be a library- now bare and rather strange looking. It was odd to see the vast space of a library empty of shelves. Black marks on the marble floor represented where they used to be. 

Turning his attention to the door, he noticed the placard said 'Duke Wildcard' instead of 'Ambassador' strange that he should choose to go by that, but no matter. He knocked on the door and almost instantly it swung open. 

"Detective..." The changeling said, seated behind a bare (and rather nice) desk- except for a bottle of cider, his hooves tented over it. "...have a seat," He said.

Before he could reply Stargazer found himself pulled in by a green field, and the door slammed behind him. Held in stasis, unable to even scream, he was forced into a chair across the desk while his pockets opened- and the document he had found floated out. 

"Tell me what you know, detective," The changeling ambassador said, reading over the document. 

Still held in the field, but able to speak, Stargazer did so.

"I know you've abducted people in the past, and I have good reason to think you're doing it now. Tell me ambassador- how many have you replaced?" He asked.

To his horror the document he had found vanished in a green flame, covering the ambassadors desks in it's ashes.

"You can't do that!" Stargazer shouted, futilely struggling against the field.

"Some truths are meant to remain hidden, Detective. I can't allow this document to exist," Ambassador Wildcard said.

"You think the changelings are abducting ponies, which would make sense given what you know- but have a look at this," He said, and dug in his desk for a manilla folder- which he slid across the desk. 

"I can trust you not to do anything stupid, right?" Wildcard asked.

Stargazer nodded, and the field dissipated. He flipped open the folder and found a few letters inside, which he quickly skimmed over.

Each was a letter written from a changeling 'eta' in charge of a work group in Equestria, reporting one or two missing workers. Each was from western Equestria, close to Southrop-Grumman. The pattern was the same throughout- a denial by the local guard of any knowledge, searching that returned no results...

...and lights in the sky.

His face grew pale and he turned it up to the ambassador. "So, something is abducting ponies and changelings... this goes deeper then I thought," He noted.

Wildcard nodded and sat back in his desk. "I have a pretty clear idea of who it is, but I can't do anything about it. You though, you're a nobody. If you can find proof and deliver it to Celestia then we can put an end to this crime," He said.

Stargazer cocked an eyebrow, wondering what the Ambassador was playing at. "You're a changelings, changelings are getting abducted- why not use your own people, or even investigate this yourself?" he asked.

The ambassador laughed. "You're kidding right? They have me under constant watch. If I sneeze, they get a report. If I was to start getting up in their affairs you can bet I'll end up the same place these poor souls went," He said, tapping the papers on his desk.

"I understand, I suppose. I resent being called a 'nobody' though," Stargazer noted.

The changeling laughed again. "Embrace being a nobody, you don't have to worry about the stuff I do," he suggested.

"Now go, go and find proof that they're behind this- or if not just get to the bottom of it before the changelings at home start getting involved- none of us want that," He said.

"Who's they?" Stargazer asked.

"Who else? The Night Guard." Wildcard replied.


CANTERLOT: SEPTEMBER 12TH 1001, 12:12PM


CANTERLOT TRAIN STATION


Stargazer grabbed a quick lunch before taking off to the train station to head for Southrop-Grumman, the next destination in his investigation. He also made sure he was armed, his service weapon holstered at his side under his coat. It was a dangerous world now, and all signs pointed to this being anything but a peaceful outing.

Stargazer used his badge to get on board the noon train, and perused a copy of the latest edition of Equestrian Weekly News. He got some odd looks, but didn't care. As expected there was another article about reported abductions around the area he was heading, following all the regular patterns. To his surprise he found a green coated mare took a seat beside him just as the train got moving.

Feeling her gaze on him Stargazer put down the tabloid and turned to her, recognizing her as the secretary from the embassy.

"Can I help you?" He asked.

"I doubt it, I'm here to help you," She replied. 

Stargazer squinted at her, unsure of her motivations. "How...?" He asked, as he looked her over. She wore a peacoat slightly darker green then herself, and a saddlebag with her lyre insignia on it.

"Wildcard told me to go with you, name's Lyra Heartstrings." She said, reaching out a hoof. 

Stargazer shook it, and figured he should accept her company. It was rather obvious she was here to keep track of him for the Ambassador, but having an extra pair of hooves couldn't hurt.

Still, there was something he had to check. When he released her hoof he reached into a pocket and pulled out the magometer and flicked it open, passing it over her amused face. A green light lit up, and a dial moved to a bit over half way.

"Well you're not a changeling, and you scored a seven out of ten," he explained.

"Well of course I'm not silly, do I look like a changeling to you?" She asked.

Stargazer stared at her while he closed up the instrument.

Lyra rolled her eyes. "Right, changeling... Is seven good?" She asked.

Stargazer shrugged. "Pretty good yeah, I only score a six myself," He admitted.

Lyra laughed, and nudged his shoulder. "A little old mare like me, more powerful then a brave police stallion like you? Oh that's got to hurt the ego," she said.

"Don't let it get to your head, the scale is logarithmic- and do you know what Celestia scores?" He asked. 

Lyra shook her head. 

"She scores twenty," Stargazer replied.

The ride was almost painfully long, as the town was quite a ways from Canterlot and the new Crystal Imperial trains were anything but fast. Stargazer took the time to study a map of the area they were heading, while Lyra paced around the train. Southrop-Grumman was a a small region to the west of Canterlot inside the mountain forest, along the Vanhoover line. The highlights of the area were the village of Southrop, and Grumman lake just to the north of there. It was an area of peace and quiet, so the sudden rash of activity in the area added to the mystery. The only reason the area was populated at all was a factory for military arms and a small aircraft testing facility, why would all this centre around there?

Griffons and Changelings, as well as a pony here and there. Some...thing... was out there.

Lyra returned to her seat, startling Stargazer whom was staring out the window, pondering what he would find at that town.

"You alright?" She asked, prodding him on the shoulder.

Stargazer sighed and stared out the window at the passing trees, the setting sun covering it all in a warm orange light. He stared at the clear sky, a cloud here and there contrasting the darkening blue sky. What lay beyond that sky?

"Lyra, do you think we're alone?" Stargazer asked.

"No? There's plenty of other people on the train," She responded, unsure. 

"I mean, us, all of us. On this planet- Look out the window, past the sky, what if there are others?" He tried again.

"Space ponies? Sure, why not- I've never seen one though, you're saying they kidnapped those people?" She asked.

Stargazer frowned, and turned to meet her gaze. "Maybe, I intend to find out."


SOUTHROP-GRUMMAN OUTSKIRTS: SEPTEMBER 12th, 7:37PM


Disembarking the train station in the late evening, Stargazer stared out at the forest road ahead of them. Southrop was about a mile down the road from the station, which lay at the head of a large lumber mill- which had been abandoned for years. They were the only ones getting off at this stop, and before he could even collect himself the train rumbled off.

Lyra came to his side, and looked down the path. The word that came to her mind was 'spooky'. Tall evergreen trees on either side shadowed the dirt road, while on the left distance mountains rose up as vast shadowed monoliths. The sun slipped below them just as the train left, leaving the pair in the dim twilight. It was quiet, save for the squeak of a sign on the road and the rumbling train.

"Kinda spooky out here, dontcha think?" Lyra asked.

Stargazer took a deep breath of the crisp country air, and put a hoof on her shoulder as he pointed towards the path.

"Ms. Heartstrings, welcome to my element. Spooky is my specialty, and it's been a while since I actually got out," He said, and trotted a bit forward.

Lyra remained where she was, questioning her own sanity for coming out here. Wildcard had 'asked' her to follow him to 'remind of who the real enemy was', which she found rather ominous and cryptic. She was also supposed to send a quick report on his investigation when she got a chance. They would go straight to Celestia, which was a rather rare honor for a unicorn. Normally any attempt to teleport something to The Princess of the Sun would be met with it flying back at you and an angry visit from the guard.

The Duke had done enough for her that she figured she owed him this much, and if Princess Celestia was in on this then it must really be important. So with the sun going down, and the night coming in, she swallowed her anxiety and steeled herself for her mission. Oh how she wished Bon-Bon was here with her, but she was doing much more important work at home. Lyra was luckier then most ponies, only her position had saved her from the trenches in the south, or the islands in the east.

Stargazer noticed his companion lagging, and looked back. "You coming?" He asked.

Lyra nodded, and quickly caught up. 

"Lead on, detective," She said. "Let's see how far down this rabbit hole goes," she suggested.

Stargazer grinned and led her on down the path, together they sparked their alicorns to provide light as they went onwards. Lyra's a hue of green, and his own a deep blue. As they walked, Stargazer explained the history of the area to Lyra's curious self, managing to keep back the creepy feeling of the trees that hung over them as twilight gave way to night, and the creatures that roamed it started to fill the forest with sound.

Southrop-Grumman was originally inhabited by two feuding families- the Southrops and the Grummans. The Southrops owned a large area of farmland just south of a lake owned by the Grummans. Eventually, after a a violent confrontation, the two families put aside their differences and merged. The two family patriarchs used their control of the region to turn it into their own private ground, and had recently built a factory complex staffed by changelings. The government had contracted them for a large amount of military supplies, making them quite wealthy indeed. Not much news had come out recently, other then the tabloid reports of abductions and propaganda about the latest war machine being built.

Could the Night Guard be abducting these people, using some secret technology, and keeping them at Grumman Lake? The idea was so horrible to consider that Stargazer would much rather changelings, or even beings from outer space, were behind it. There hadn't been any Equestrian on Equestrian violence in a thousand years, not on that scale. 

"It's no more or less crazy then a war with the griffons, the whole world is going insane," He mumbled to himself. 

Lyra glanced back for the fourth time in a few minutes, and he looked at her quizzingly. "You all right?" he asked.

"We're being followed," She said quietly, shuffling closer to him. 

"I know, he's been there for about an hour," Stargazer said, glancing back at the dark figure moving through the trees. Pulling out his magometer he confirmed his suspicion.

"Changeling, friend of yours?" Stargazer asked.

Lyra shook her head, and trembled with fear. "It can't be, so who is-" 

To their shock a vast rumbling noise came to the sky, and Stargazer pulled Lyra to the side as they dove into the bush. Overhead a blinding light lit up the path and lit up the dark figure that had been shadowing them in the light, blasting dust and leaves into the air. The sound was near deafening, and neither of them could speak as they watched stunned as the figure was lifted into the air, and then vanished.

Only a few seconds later it roared off into the sky, and was gone.

"What the buck was that?!" Lyra exclaimed, shaking with fear.

Stargazer gazed up at the stars, watching as one of them faded into the sky.

"The truth," He said, and turned to find a dozen green eyes glowing in the darkness behind her.

He drew his gun, "Lyra, get down!" He shouted. She did, shuddered with fear as he extended a blue shield around them both, revealing a half dozen heavily armed changelings in tattered work uniforms.

"Put it down and shut that off before they see us!" The leader, with eyes of blue, demanded.

"Before who sees us?" He demanded, pointedly gesturing at them with his gun. Upon further inspection he probably didn't have a chance even with his shield- they all had back mounted machine guns. This group wasn't messing around.

"The bats, you fool! turn off that light before we make you turn it off, we're not your enemy but we won't let you get us all killed," The leader said, and backed his point by revving the gun on his back up, his horn lighting dimly as it did. Stargazer noted his horn appeared to be covered with cloth to contain the glow.

Stargazer sighed, and holstered his pistol as he lowered the field.

"Alright, just..."

Lyra spoke up and broke him off. "Did you see that thing?" She said, darting back behind Stargazer.

"What thing?" The leader demanded, as he gestured his troops to circle the pair. "All I've seen is you two with your stupid lights, you're lucky we found you," 

"Now," He said, coming muzzle to muzzle with Stargazer. "Who are you, and why are you here?" He demanded.

"Detective Stargazer, on assignment from Princess Celestia to find out what's going on out here," Stargazer replied.

The group all laughed, glancing back and forth at one another.

"Oh, so Her Highness finally decided to care? Do you know how long we've been stuck out here, living in fear of those bats?" The leader asked.

"No,"

"Three. Bucking. Weeks," The leader said.

"Well then," Lyra said, coming up to Stargazers side. "Let us help you and we can fix this, we're your friends," She said.

"Oh really? What can you two possibly offer?" He asked.

"I can ask the Princess to send help, she'll be furious to find out what's going on out here," Lyra suggested.

"I think your oligarchy has helped enough already, lady. You two come with us, you two don't get to leave," He said. Two of his men behind prodded them in their flanks.

"Look, we just want to help. Princess Celestia is on your side, and the Ambassador is interested in this too. We can get help!" He argued.

"Do you think I'm stupid? Those bats could just claim we 'revolted' or something and cover the whole damn thing up. We'll just go from being kidnapped and held here, to being held in the Canterlot caves. No, we're taking matters into our own hands," He said, threat almost visible in his voice.

"What do you mean by that?" Stargazer asked.

The leader looked back at him and grinned, his blue eyes glowing in the darkness. 

"We're going to attack, we're going to level that base of theirs," He said, and turned his attention back forwards.

Stargazer was experienced enough to hide his fear, but Lyra was quite unused to these kind of stakes. He glanced back at her, she stared forward vacantly.

"Just let me contact the ambassador, we can fix this!" Stargazer argued, knowing it was vain.

"There's nothing he can do, and the bats are probably just waiting to connect him to a 'revolt' and throw him in prison with the rest of us. We're on our own, and you're coming with us," the leader said.

The group carried on silently, soon coming up to the town. Bright spotlights lined it, illuminating everything as if it was day. A few more pointed towards the sky, changelings swiveling them too and fro as they scanned the night.

"They only come at night, and we've been able to keep them out of the town- with a price," The leader said, gesturing to a ruined building just beyond an archway that marked the entrance to the town. The road was littered with overturned cards, the buildings of the small town boarded up.

Welcome to Southrop


SOUTHROP: AUGUST 27th 1001, 10:02PM


POLICE HEADQUARTERS


The leader of the changelings sat them down in the basement of the town's police headquarters that he had made into his own. The changelings were friendly enough, and offered them food and drink as well as a pair of cots. He went into detail over the last few weeks resistance against the bat ponies, whom had removed the pony inhabitants of the village to a 'secure area' in the base itself. They had done this under the pretense of a faked griffon attack, thus the collapsed building outside. Shortly after this the towns griffons were rounded up and moved to the base as 'suspects', and not long after that changelings begun to disappear from the nearby factory barracks at night. When he, the 'eta' of the group, complained the bats responded with violence, and the workers revolted. Since then the two sides had been at a stalemate.

"That all ends tomorrow, we completed the weapons they had us working on in the factory in secret, and we're reading to move on that place in force," He said, sitting across from the pair at a same table in the dimly lit basement.

"That's suicide, even if you manage to beat them they'll just call Canterlot, say it was a revolt, and take you out. There's no winning here, not that way," Stargazer said.

"We've got an ace up our sleeve," He said, and tore his changeling medallion from his neck, placing it on the table.

Lyra gasped. "You can't do that, it's a treaty violation!" she exclaimed.

The leader laughed. "You're kidding right? I'm pretty sure that was violated when they started kidnapping us," He said.

"She's right, they'll know to check for changelings- you're playing right into their hands," Stargazer argued.

The Eta slammed his hooves on the table. "So what would you have me do, rely on the same ponies that left us out here to rot? No, we're going to take them on, all of them." He growled, and then leaned back in his chair with a sigh.

"You're right though, they'll be expecting us. I highly doubt we'll survive, but we'll fight anyway and take as many of them down with us as we can. We'll free as many as we can, and take their leader out, " He said.

"It doesn't have to be this way, let us help. At least let us send a message home," Stargazer pleaded.

"Fine, send your damn message. Whatever the reply we're still attacking that base at noon tomorrow. You're coming with us, so I suggest you get some rest," Eta said, and pushed off the table. 

"Why do you need us?" Lyra asked fearfully.

"You two will go in first and make a scene, while we move our force inside. With the security distracted by two unicorns raising hell, we'll be able to take the outer defenses and work our way inside." he explained.

Stargazer glanced at her as the blood drained from her face. 

"Look, Eta, she's just a secretary. Can't you let her go?" He pleaded.

To his surprise it was Lyra that spoke up next, angrily.

"Just a secretary? I might be scared, I might be wishing I was back in Canterlot, I might wish I had a hot bath- but I am not 'just a secretary' detective." She glared at him and turned to the stunned Eta.

"I'll help however I can."


SOUTHROP: SEPTEMBER 13th 1001, 8:02AM


POLICE HEADQUARTERS


A restless nights sleep, and quick breakfast, later, the Eta bid them upstairs where he had assembled his force. Two dozen of them, back mounted weapons gleaming in the light, were lined up in the street. The first thing Eta had them do was send that message to Celestia, in the vain hope she might help them somehow. 

Her reply, was this.

"Proof."

Eta rolled his eyes. "I told you it was useless, what did you expect?" He complained.

"Oh think about it for more then a few seconds. If she moved on this the Night Guard could just say you kidnapped us and forced us to send that, without solid proof there's nothing to go on. She's watching now though, and she's probably got the centurions waiting on the sidelines," Stargazer said.

"So what do you suggest I do? How exactly am I going to get proof without storming that base, by which point it's already too late?" He asked.

"Give us two hours inside, you said they're leader is there?"

The eta nodded.

"If we can get to her, we can find some proof and send it to Celestia," Stargazer said.

Eta nodded again. "Fine, we'll get you to the tunnel we've dug to get in- and then you've got two hours on the dot before we charge, got it?"

Lyra laughed. "A deadline to save the day, I can't wait to tell Bon-Bon about this!" She exclaimed. 

The group all laughed, and set off with their heads held high. They had a chance now, as slim as it was.



GRUMMAN LAKE: AUGUST 13th, 10:30PM


TUNNEL UNDER BARRACKS


Outside the base was a tiny wooden lean to which concealed the entrance to a tunnel the changelings had slowly dug under the defense perimeter. Their plan, apparently, was to surface in the barracks and come out disguised as whoever they found- after tying them up. They would try and get as deep as possible before breaking cover and attacking openly. Stargazer knew that wouldn't take very long, the bats probably had the same type of device he had for detecting changelings, it was standard issue after the events a year ago.	

"Two hours!" Eta reminded them, and shuffled off backwards down the low tunnel. Stargazer turned to Lyra, stooping down as she looked forward towards the exit- shivering. If the changelings positioned it right, the exit was a storage room in the cafeteria, but they hadn't moved out behind make sure it was inside. 

"Ms. Heartstrings, you still have a chance to back out if your scared," Stargazer reminder her.

"Detective, I'm terrified, but if we all stopped as soon as the going got tough, we'd have a Griffon king," She said, swallowing her fear and ceasing to shudder.

"Ms. Heartstrings, you're one of a kind," Stargazer said, and patted her shoulder.

They crawled through the end length of the tunnel and,with a glance at each other before pushing the tile that marked the exit off, Stargazer emerged. 

Sticking his head out of the hole Stargazer released a sigh of relief. It was as the changelings had planned- a supply closet stacked with bags of flour and other assorted things. He pulled himself out, and Lyra after.

"Well we're in, now what?" She asked.

"Can you message Celestia again?" He asked. Lyra nodded.

"Why?" She asked.

Stargazer whispered something in her ear, and she grinned.

A few minutes later they had their response, and pushed open the doors without fear to find an empty cafeteria. Departing from there into the hall they found a pony that happened to be wandering along, and shouted at him.

"Hey stranger, can you give us a hand?" Stargazer shouted.

The pony froze in place, and slowly turned to look at them. He wore a labcoat, and giant spectacles. He was, for lack of a better word, an egghead.

"W-who are you, and how did you get here?" He asked.

Stargazer made a show of rolling his eyes and Lyra, and a great sigh. "Look at this, nobody got the memo. Government contracting, I swear," He said, and pulled the scroll they had just received from his coat. 

"We're from Vanhoover, here to help with your project- I've got the paperwork from Princess Luna right here," Stargazer said.

The pony didn't seem convinced and quickly came forward, grabbing it from him. He read it over and then looked at them incredulously.

"We have a space program?" he asked.

Stargazer sighed. "If you don't know, then you don't need to know," He said, and took back the scroll. "Now where's the person that runs the show around here?" He asked.

"Mezza Luna? She's in the main building, obviously," He said.

"Wait a second... why wouldn't you kn-" 

Wasting no time Stargazer clonked him on the side of the head, knocking him out cold.

"He'll be fine," He said to Lyra. "Now grab his legs, we'll put him in storage," he added.

"You're sure?" Lyra said, picking up his legs.

"Positive."

Once they had hidden their friend Stargazer bade Lyra wear his labcoat. They could probably move around easily now, and had a target. Government agencies, even evil ones, always kept good paperwork. 

They just had to find it.


GRUMMAN LAKE: SEPTEMBER 13TH, 10:50AM


COURTYARD


As expected nopony gave them any mind as they departed the barracks into the base proper. The highlight was an incredibly long bit of pavement that seemed to stretch for as long as the eye could see, bordered by a trio of huge steel sheds with giant metal doors. To their far side was a tall building with a glass top that held a commanding view of everything, and on the other a generic looking administration building.  That, they suspected, was the 'main building'. Far and away, barely visible, was a wooden stockade surrounded by Night Guards, which they figured was where they kept the prisoners. Not wasting too much time lest they look suspicious, the pair trotted towards the main building, with the best likeness of 'knowing what their doing' that they could.

"You think this is going to work?" Lyra whispered.

"All we've got to do is find evidence and teleport it to Canterlot, we've got a good chance," Stargazer replied.

"How are we going to do that?" Lyra asked.

"Improvise," Stargazer said.

Soon enough they came before the building, and a bat pony standing guard came to attention.

"Halt, what's your clearance?" She asked.

"Top," Stargazer replied, perhaps too quickly because the guard clicked the safety off on her rifle.

"Give me your ID," She ordered.

Lyra glanced at Stargazer, whom took out the scroll again.

"We haven't gotten our proper ID yet, we've just been sent her from Canterlot," He said, reaching out with the paper.

The guard read it over. "Space Program? That's run out of Camp Llamos," She said, and crumpled it up.

"You've just made a bad mistake," She said, and pointed the rifle at Stargazer.

"Look, it's Celestia!" Lyra exclaimed. The bat pony was stunned for a second and strained her neck to look past.

Stargazer took advantage of that moment and launched himself forward, headbutting the night mare in the chest. He flew backwards and rolled, her rifle flying off to the side.

"Get the gun!" Stargazer exclaimed, wrestling with her on the ground. 

Lyra dove and grabbed it, just as the mare kicked Stargazer off herself. Before she could follow up and pounce on him, the threatening click of Lyra running the bolt stopped her.

"Bon-Bon showed me how to use these, don't make me, please," She said.

The guard glanced around, but there was no help to be found. Their defenses were focused outwards, or surrounding the prisoners.

"What do you two flankholes want? Don't you know this is treason?" She said.

"I bet Celestia thinks the same," Stargazer said, and reached in his coat for a pair of zip ties. One didn't get to be a detective without being a street cop, and a street cop knew to keep a pair handy.

"Wait, you're working for her? Do you even know what you're doing?" She asked.

Stargazer walked around behind her while Lyra continued to point the gun at her. 

"Do you?" Lyra asked.

"We're protecting Equestria! The Griffons, the changelings, they're all out to get us!" She said. "Celestia let them in, she'll doom us all with he-" 

"Shut up," Stargazer said as he clonked her on the head.

"That's two, going for a record?" Lyra asked.

Stargazer smirked. "High score."

They laid her to the side of the admin building, both somewhat surprised nobody had seen their little scene. Stargazer was able to liberate a keychain from her, and they went around the back of the building to find a pair of locked doors, which they used to gain entry. Inside was a stairwell.

"If you were crazy, where would your office be?" Stargazer asked Lyra, clutching the rifle like it was her only lifeline.

"Top floor, obviously," Lyra said.

So to the top floor they went, pausing outside a pair of metal doors. 

"Give me the rifle," Stargazer ordered. Lyra handed it over. 

"You got a plan?" She asked.

"Yeah, I do."

A moment later he kicked the door open and swung the rifle around inside while Lyra galloped forward, screaming.

Inside were a few rows of cubicles, at the end a large office that had a view of them all, although it's blinds were drawn at the moment.

"Nobody move!" Stargazer shouted, the dozen or so ponies in the room turned their attention to the crazed stallion hefting a gun in the doorway, while a scared scientist ran for cover.

They sat in fear, unsure what to do.

"Stay where you are, and nopony gets hurt! My demands are simple- release the changelings!" He shouted, while Lyra slipped to the side of the office doorway just as the blinds flew open. A bat pony stared out at him. 

"You're a changeling?!" One of the workers wondered.

"I sure am!" Stargazer shouted, firing the rifle at the glass- missing the bat pony inside by a mile, but still shattering it.

"You're messing with the wrong ponies!" Mezza Luna shouted, and came screaming out of the door with a pistol blazing. Stargazer dove back outside the door, while Lyra slipped in the other door. 

"Alright, I surrender!" Stargazer shouted, and threw the rifle in the doorway. 

There was a moment or two of awkward silence, as the ponies wondered if he was a bad terrorist or just insane.

"You surrender?" Mezza Luna asked.

Stargazer braced himself and stood in the doorway.

"I surrender," He said, glancing behind her to see Lyra holding up some document triumphantly. It vanished in a wisp of green smoke a moment later, with a bright enough flash that Mezza Luna glanced back- to see her holding Stargazers pistol.

"Who the hell are you?" She demanded, turning her attention over. Stargazer dove forward and grabbed the rifle on the ground, pointing it upwards from his prone position.

"Lyra Heartstrings!" She shouted. "Just a secretary, ma'am!" Pointing the pistol with shaky hooves.

Stargazer racked the slide of the rifle. 

"It's over. Celestia knows all about your little adventure out here, just give it up!" Stargazer shouted.

Mezza Luna glanced back at him with the fire a thousand bursting suns. 

"You can't stop me, nobody can stop me! I am the night!" She shouted, and dove forward. 

Stargazer shot, but missed. Before he could run the bolt she had already sprinted into her office and fired a few times forward at the outer window, shattering it. She leapt forward and kicked off Lyra to launch out the window, leaving her crumpled in a pile.

"Ms. Heartstrings!" Stargazer shouted, darting forward. He skidded to a halt when she rose, wiping a bit of blood off her noise.

"I'm fine, takes more than that to stop me," She said, giving him a weak grin as she brushed glass off herself. 

Stargazer sighed with relief, and looked around the room.

"It's over, go home," He said. 

The workers glanced at each other, and shrugged. Stargazer stepped through the window of the office to look outside. A scroll appeared in the air before Lyra, and she caught it to read.

"The cavalry will be here in half an hour," She said.

Stargazer sighed with relief. It was over.

That thought was put on hold as the ground rumbled and an explosion rocked the building from outside. Sticking their heads out the window they turned to see a black shape emerge from one of the large buildings, the steel doors having been flung across the pavement. Dozens of ponies ran out in terror as it turned down the runway.

"What is that?" Lyra asked.

Stargazer watched it in awe. It was huge, and looked like something out of a science fiction comic. As it turned to point down the runway the circular tails on the rear lit up blue, and it flew forwards. Only a half minute later it was gone, lost into the blue yonder.

"The truth," Stargazer replied.

A half hour later, just as expected, a great number of airships appeared on the horizon. Heralding them was a wing of pegasi that flew over the base, dropping leaflets. Stargazer caught one, and read it to Lyra.

"Stand down or be assumed to be an enemy combatant," He said.

Lyra looked outside towards the towers lining the outer fence.

"That's rather direct, doesn't sound like anything Celestia would say," She noted.

Stargazer stared out at the approaching vessels, and noticed two specs above them.

"I think we're getting a two for one deal on princesses today," He said.


GRUMMAN LAKE: AUGUST 13TH, 11:40AM


COURTYARD


Stargazer and Lyra stood outside of the admin building as the Night Guards were rounded up by the legion force that the Princesses had brought. The changelings came out of the barracks as well, forming up outside with their weapons still ready. Looking to the sky the airships came to a hover over them, and three figures descended. Two headed for them, the other to the changelings.

When Celestia and Luna landed before them both Stargazer and Lyra bowed.

"You two have done a commendable thing today, I thank you," Luna said, biding them to rise.

"I leave you two with my sister, and assure you that the penalty for treason is... most severe. Mezza Luna and anypony that supported her will face justice, oh yes they will face justice," She said, and quickly departed for the rounded up group of bat ponies.

"You've done well, better then even I had hoped for," Celestia said. 

"Thank you, Princess," They said together.

Celestia gestured inside. "Let's talk inside, I have a fe-" She was interrupted by the incredibly loud voice of her sister shouting at the  bat ponies, whom were all cowering in terror.

"HOW DARE YOU INSOLENT FOOLS EXPECT ME TO IGNORE THIS! YOU HAVE SHAMED EQUESTRIA, MYSELF, AND THE VERY IDEA-"

They quickly went inside, lest they lose their hearing.

Celestia sat them down in the lobby, around a short table to hear their report. She was quite pleased not only that they succeeded, but managed to do so without any real violence.

"This could have gone quite badly for all involved, but thanks to you the worst was averted. I owe you a great deal, and so I ask if there's anything I can do for either of you," She asked.

Lyra and Stargazer both took a moment to consider, Lyra spoke first.

"I suppose becoming an alicorn is out of the question?," She asked.

Celestia laughed. "You'll have to save the day more than once for that, I'm afraid," She said.

Lyra shrugged. "Well, I had to try. In that case, I think I would prefer to think about it," She said.

Celestia nodded and turned to Stargazer.

"The Night Guard files were destroyed when the Police HQ was hit, but shouldn't they have copies in the mountain, or elsewhere?" He asked.

"I'll look into it, but why?" she asked.

"Princess, I'm a detective. Finding the truth is what I do, and I have a feeling this isn't the only time the Night Guard has done evil. I'm going to make it my mission to find how deep this rabbit hole goes," He said.

Celestia smiled, and nodded. "I was hoping you would say something like that, I wanted to ask you to become chief investigator as we look into the damage Mezza Luna did," She said, reaching a hoof.

Stargazer grinned, and shook it.

"I accept,"



H.M.S IRON SADDLE: SEPTEMBER 13TH, 6:30PM


EN-ROUTE TO CANTERLOT[- HOLD 7


Detective Stargazer and his partner caught a ride home on one of the airships, and brought the changeling ambassador up to date. They sat together in a small room towards the back of the ship, while the two princesses debated how to proceed with the Night Guard elsewhere. Luna had worked quickly, sending a message out declaring Mezza Luna to be an "Enemy of the State". Wherever she went, Luna would find her eventually.

"So, Wildcard, you sent Yin out after us too?" Lyra asked, clutching a cup of tea in her hooves as she sat at the wooden table, the ship gently rocking in its flight.

"That's right, I figured it would be wise to have a contingency if you ran into trouble. Too bad he never made it though, probably got lost on the way," Wildcard said.

Lyra glanced at Stargazer uneasily.

"Uh... ambassador... we saw him last night, he was abducted by the Night Guard," Stargazer said.

"That's impossible, he wasn't with the prisoners," Wildcard said.

"Then what did that hovering thing abduct last night?" Stargazer asked.

"What.. hovering thing?" Wildcard returned.

"Last night, this huge black craft hovered over us, just before your fellows found us. It's the same as that ship Mezza Luna stole, right?" Stargazer asked, feeling a shiver of unease up his spine.

"Detective, the Night Guard was using basic airships with spotlights, and the Phoenixes can't hover. What the hell are you talking about?" 

Lyra and Stargazer shared another look of unease.

"Ambassador, do you think we're alone?" Stargazer asked.


H.M.S IRON SADDLE: AUGUST 28th 1001, 6:30PM


EN-ROUTE TO CANTERLOT- BRIDGE


Celestia and Luna stood side by side, staring out at the setting sun as the vessel slowly made its way towards Canterlot.

Luna spoke first, after a long period of silent unease.

"I.. I'm sorry sister, I should have seen this. I put my faith in her, and my foolishness jeopardized us all. Now, thanks to her treason, I have to babysit the Night Guard and root out those that followed her, dividing my attention from more important things. I was wrong to give her so much power, I take the blame," She said.

Celestia gently twisted her face, smiling against her frown. "Luna, everypony makes mistakes- we just make bigger ones then normal. I have an idea that can help us both, if you want," She suggested.

Luna cocked an eyebrow. "What would that be?"

Celestia grinned widely. "Allow me to lead the Night Guard," she stated bluntly.

Luna smiled. "They would hate that, I think it would be a perfect punishment. They abused their position, so now they get to be sent back to school, with you as their teacher," She said.

"Hah, hold on a minute. You do just realize that we've swapped roles, right?" Luna laughed.

"Want to bring it full circle?" Celestia asked.

"What do you mean?" Luna asked.

"Lower the sun..." Celestia suggested.

"...raise the moon." Luna added.

They shared wide grins, and for the first time Luna lowered her sisters sun below the horizon, and Celestia immediately rose her moon.

Shortly afterwards a small, bright, speck was visible on the horizon. The pair watched as it veered over the sky, increasing and decreasing in brightness before seeming to dart straight upwards into the night.

It was not the first time, nor the last time, they would see something like that. They had learned not to question it, some mysteries not even they knew the answer to. Some things were meant to remain unknown.


	We are not alone.


	

	
> Novella: A Burning Phoenix
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------



Waylay Island marked 1/3rd of the way between Equestria and the Griffon Home Islands. Long ago it had been ceded to them, as a gesture of friendship in more peaceful times. A volcanic island, with a large mountain in it's centre splitting it in two. A hundred kilometers to it's west the Wonderbolt Fleet was poised to assault it, the Magnificent at it's head.

At the back of the Magnifent's bridge were two boards, and a clock above which was currently held at the zero position. Spitfire stood  before one of the boards, the bridge crew at attention behind her. Today was the most important day in the Wonderbolts storied history, today was the day they would fulfill their original role in defense of Equestria. The homefront was one thing, but now they were on their own. There were no alicorns waiting on the sidelines, no hope if they failed. Between them and their end goal was a thousand kilometers of ocean, a griffon fleet, and probably a hundred thousand griffons. Today they would face a tenth of that.


Tuesday, August 26th, 1001.
Celestia's Royal Marine Corps Status: 21056 Operational, 56 Injured, 576 KIA or MIA


Wonderbolts Status: 6 Capital ships, 26 frigates, 37 corvettes. 7 lost.


Weather: Heavy rains, visibility low.


Six Hours to Operation Bronco


Spitfire adjusted her uniform and turned from the information board, hanging at the back of the Magnificent's bridge.The Wonderbolts hid their true causality numbers by only reporting lost ships, morale would take a nose dive if the public found out how many they had lost in these last two months, mostly in the first few weeks of hit and run coastal attacks before they learned how to adapt. The marines had suffered the hardest in Baltimare, but their numbers were being increased by fresh recruits every day. The original force was all volunteers from the old guard, but it quickly became clear that wouldn't be enough. The wonderbolts though, they couldn't rely on that. Their number now was all they had, almost every single pegasus capable of fighting was, the rest would be unable to fulfill the obligations that came with being a Wonderbolt.

Two hundred sixty three.

Two hundred sixty three pegasi that would never see home again, twice the original peacetime strength of the Wonderbolts had been lost, now their total number was a heavily classified number somewhere close to ten thousand, mostly in the support roles and crewing the ships. Not every pegasus could master flying with a half tonne of weaponry on your back, it took more then just practical skill- it took a honing of a pegasus' inherent magic. Most of them didn't make the cut.

There was no surrender in the air, you couldn't drop your weapon and pull out a white flag in the half second it took for a bullet to tear through you, or for a griffon to get into a position behind you to bathe you with that horrible fire. You either killed your enemy, or he killed you. That was the first lesson they had learned, and anypony without the nerves required to stick it to a griffon as soon as you got the chance quickly found themselves a statistic. Rarely did they come back wounded, it was more or less a binary equation in an engagement. Lighting on fire at a thousand feet, or getting hit with a 30mm round, had the effect of that.

Beside that rather depressing board was the Combat Air Patrol scoresheet, which Spitfire always looked over second to reassure her of their chances. They might be bleeding, but the Griffons were bleeding far worse.


DASH WING: 464 CONFIRMED, 27 UNCONFIRMED
DUST WING: 327 CONFIRMED, 65 UNCONNFIRMED
SOARIN WING: 257 CONFIRMED, 22 UNCONFIRMED
FLEETFOOT WING: 222 CONFIRMED 0 UNCONFIRMED


FLEET SCORE: 7 CAPITAL, SIX FRIGATE, 27 TRANSPORT


This was in addition to the marines having taken, at a rough estimate, a thousand of them in Baltimare. The griffons were full of hubris, and while their flame cannons were terrifying- they were absolutely useless at any sort of range; now they had fallen back on rifles- their design stolen from the Marines. The Wonderbolt's could out fly them them too, so the order of the day had become to fly at them full speed, let loose a hail of bullets, and then keep going while they struggled to follow. If all four wings were out they could go one after another and absolutely annihilate the enemy. Their fleet was superior, their Wonderbolts superior, but there was still the matter of the ground.

Waylay Island was a vast expanse of thick tropical jungle, to add to this it was raining heavily, and the weather out here had been left alone for far too long for the pegasi to even try and reign it in. It would take a force three times their size with decades of time to attempt that, which brought up the question of just what Equestria was going to be like when they got back. 

Spitfire shook her head, the ponies could deal with a single harsh winter, it was a sacrifice that had to be made. It was certainly far better than the sacrifices they had to endure out here, especially today.

Today they would attack Waylay island, head on. Flash Sentry should be back soon with the recon photographs he had been ordered to take with the Pheonix 3, and they would begin planning in earnest. It would seem wise to delay the attack until they knew more, but their long term plans hinged on taking the island as quickly as possible. The griffons had clearly expected a less aggressive strategy, with the Wonderbolt Fleet high on the victory of downing a dozen troop carriers that had been positioned to drop on Baltimare. The griffons had invested a lot of resources in that trap working.

It hadn't, and now the winds had shifted. The fire was coming to them.

"Sow the wind..." Spitfire said, and turned to the bridge crew lined up before her.

"Reap the whirlwind!" They shouted in unison.


______


Flash Sentry sat the controls of the Phoenix 3, somehow managing to keep his breakfast down as the strong winds outside buffeted the craft. The low cloud ceiling meant that they would have to stay within the clouds as long as possible, and then dip below just long enough to get recon photographs. 

Hopefully they wouldn't die.

The craft was nice, and the cockpit was rather spacious with room for two, and a tiny cabin with a cot in the back for long voyages. There was even a washroom, however this was all for naught- overheating kept the Wonderbolts from flying these for more then five hours at a time. Even so, it was warm in here and the thick front glass, carpeted interior, and armoured sides kept the noise level to near silence, only the hum of the engines in the far back audible. 

Behind the cabin was the bomb bay, around ten meters long with four adjustable racks. Normally these would hold basic gravity bombs, and a few times they had dropped other things. ATA-1 missiles had to be attached to external hardpoints, and this had only be done once back in Baltimare.

This bomb bay of this Pheonix was full of recording equipment, a few hundred thousand bits of it handcrafted to Spitfire's specifications. It was the most advanced camera in the world- possibly in history.

"Fang!" Flash barked, struggling with the controls. Why in Celestia's name he was the one flying this thing instead of an actually trained pilot was beyond him.

"Yeah, what is it?" Fang asked, himself managing to keep steady somehow standing behind Flash.

Flash pulled back on the stick and set the craft shooting over the clouds so he could read the get a bearing. The view outside was beautiful, the sun shining down on the billowing white clouds, but there was no time for that now.

"We're about ten minutes out, get back and get ready to get pictures. I hope you've got a keen eye, because I'm not slowing this thing down. I know they've got guns down there," Flash said.

"Sure thing Flash, shouldn't be too hard." Fang returned.

Flash grabbed the stick, and carefully placed his hooves on the pedals.

"Alright, now it's going to get bumpy so hold onto something," Flash warned.

Fang grabbed the edge of the cockpit, and used it to pull himself to the back as Flash sent the plane back down into the clouds. Soon enough the soft flight through the troposphere gave way to rattling turbulence as it hammered it's way onwards. Flash couldn't keep it above for long, a griffon scout marking them would force them to abort. If the weather was better they would just hang at extreme height and take pictures at their leisure, but the elements were not on their side.

	Elements. We used to just throw the 'elements' at our problems, so much for that.

Guiding himself to the back with the wall as a guide, Fang entered the bomb bay and secured the thick door behind him. Then he put on the gear handing on the inside wall. A headset for communication with the pilot, and an oxygen tank for extreme height voyages . They weren't flying that high right now, so he just put on the headset.

He clicked it on and tapped the mouthpiece. "Flash, you hear me?" he asked.

"Sure do," His voice buzzed through. "Now get into position and I'll open the bay, you've got your oxygen right?" Flash asked

"No, didn't think I would need it," Fang replied.

"Just in case buddy, never know when we'll need to get to height," Flash said.

Fang accepted the advice, and slung the tank around his back. The mask he stuck to his face, and he flicked the switch on.

To his relief, it worked as intended and a steady stream of oxygen came through, taking a deep breath he carefully stepped between the bomb bay doors to the centre, where a seat with a small control panel attached was connected to an odd looking scope. The operator, although this had never been tested, should be able to see objects as small a half meter at this height, and could take instant photographs using this. As a fall back, a second immovable scope pointed directly downwards, and recorded to a film reel. It would take non-stop film, while the operation was to look specifically for anything unusual and take photographs.

Fang uneasily buckled himself in the chair and pulled the scope towards himself.

"I'm all set," He said.

"Go.." Flash's reply was silenced by the enormous buzzing noise of the doors that opened and the air was sucked out. Fang looked downwards to his side, and could just barely see the ground thousands of meters below through the clouds. Even though Fang could fly, it was still frightening to see the ground whizzing past at this enormous height. 

"I'm bringing us below now, we'll probably be moving too fast for you to make out much but try your best," Flash said, and Fangs heart moved into his head as the plane soared downwards below the clouds, a whole new turbulence shaking it.

Fang looked through the scope, and shifted the chair around with his feet looking for anything below that stood out. First was a formation of three concrete looking towers, which he snapped a few photos of as they went past. After that was what looked like the first of at least a dozen barracks they would see, and a few probably anti-air installations too. 

Then a few minutes of circling later he saw a long, flat, dirt pathway. At least a kilometer long.

Fang looked away in horror, there was only one other place he had seen that, it looked like the flight deck of the Magnificent- except made of dirt.

"Flash... I thin," Fang was nearly knocked out of his chair as the plane shuddered, and then pressed hard into it as it flew upwards.

"Fang! Get up here!" Flash ordered through the radio. 

Fang unbuckled himself, and paused as he thought of how just to cross the ten meter gap ahead of him. The doors were open and the clouds whipped by below- the plane was above them now and gaining height fast. If he got sucked out- that was that. Griffons weren't known to take prisoners. Assuming, of course, he wasn't knocked out in the fall and simply fell to his death.

Suddenly the plane veered to the right, and he grabbed he scope to keep himself steady- which instead pulled to the side and left him hanging over the abyss as something flew only a few meters under them, with a roaring fire as it shot past.

"Flash, close the doors!" He shouted frantically.

Another hard shudder shook him from his position and he lost his grip on the scope, falling down against the hard metal of the bomb bay doors as an explosion from behind spewed smoke into the bay.

Fang shuddered, this was getting to be altogether too much.

"Fang! I've lost engine two, what's going on back there?" Flash asked.

Fang collected himself, and grabbed the wall with a white hoof to peer back. There was a fire.

"It's on fire!" Fang shouted, glancing around for some solution. A fire extinguisher hung on the other side, as the bomb bay door clanked uneasily before it.

The ship tilted again, pressing Fang against the wall hard. Smoke was starting to make it hard to see.

"Well put it out! I barely got away from that guy, I'm not going to die to a fire now!" Flash ordered.

Fang swallowed and tip-hooved around the edge of the room to grab it, and then repeated the motion backwards. The fire in the back had turned into an inferno, and he sprayed the foam extinguisher blindly inside.

It had the desired effect after a few moments, and Flash breathed a sigh of relief.

"The fire's out," he said.

"Good, now grab the film reel and get up here," Flash ordered.

Fang crept over to the chair he had sat at, and opened a chamber on the console. He quickly levitated two metallic disks out, and hurried rushed to the door.

The cockpit was a disaster, the window had shattered and Flash sat in his seat wearing the same sort of oxygen tank Flash did, broken instruments and sparking wires were sticking out of the board.

"Flash, what happened?" Fang asked, putting the two objects in a small chest beside the door. 

"Well," Flash said, grappling with the controls. "Turns out we're not the only ones that have planes, they've got their own. Not nearly as fast it looks like, but he got the drop on me and put a missile in our rear. Looks like they only carry two, and I dodged the other, so we're safe for now," he explained.

Then he sighed, and flipped a switch on the board. "Spitfire is going to kill me for this," he mumbled.

A horrifying clanking noise came from the back, startling Fang- whom was already quite on edge.

Flash came up from behind the seat, and looked down at the board. The switch Flash had flipped was marked "Bomb Arm"

"We don't have any bombs..." Fang noted.

Flash pointed to a dial, which was slowly creeping towards the red end of it's counter. It was marked "Engine Temperature"

"Engine one is doing all the work, we're too heavy to get home like this. I've got to drop the equipment, or we'll end up in the ocean," he said, and flicked another.

"Bomb Bay Doors"

With a screech, Fang heard three hundred thousand bits of state of the art equipment fall into the ocean behind them.

Fang took his seat, sweating with anxiety and shaking with fear. At least they were above the clouds now, leaving Waylay behind them on the way back to the fleet.

Flash noticed his fear, and spared an arm to comfort him. "Don't worry, we're out of the woods now," he said.

Fang shuddered and glanced at his friend. "How are you so calm? We almost died just now!" He exclaimed.

"Fang, calm down. We've been through worse before, Remember Manehatten?" Flash asked.

That memory sent a fresh shudder down Fang's spine. "Yeah, but nobody was trying to kill us then!" He replied.

"Fang," Flash said, and held the stick tight as he looked over. "You don't have to be here you know, if it's getting too heavy for you..." 

Fang shook his head. "No, no I'm okay. Just.. scared, but I can handle it," he said.

"So am I Fang, and so is everypony else. If they say otherwise, they're lying," Flash said, turning his attention back forward.

"You don't look like you are," Fang commented.

Flash released his hooves from the stick, and nodded to it. 

He had managed to bend it almost in an upside down U, and the plastic was crushed from where he had gripped it.


_________________


Four Hours to Operation Bronco

Spitfire stood on the flight deck, the cold wind blowing in through the open hanger doors. Beside her was a radiopony, communicating with Flash on his way in. Behind them was a few dozen ponies in fire resistant suits. Apparently he had found problems, and had to abort early.

He better have a good reason.

The radio pony beside her glanced up. 

"Pheonix 3 that's right, take it in slow. The deck is clear and we're ready for you," She said.

Outside barely visible, was a black object coming at them. It was trailing a long column of smoke, and bits of metal dangled from it's belly.

"Oh please no, do you have any idea how much that cost!" Spitfire shouted down the deck.

"If he dropped the gear, I'm sure he had a good reason to ma'am- look at that thing, I'm surprised he made it back at all," The radiopony noted.

Spitfire frowned, she had a point. Still it was a significant loss. They only had a certain amount of resources, and her choice had been either a flight wing of propeller planes... or a super advanced camera.

Spitfire had chosen the camera.

The Pheonix 3 was almost in the entrance, and the radio pony stepped back to relay instructions. A siren wailed to warn anybody not paying attention to get off the deck, and the firefighters stood ready. Flash Sentry had been chosen to fly, after a crash course, because she needed all the experienced pilots at the ready in case they were attacked. He was the only one that managed to master the controls in the short time frame they had.

More then this though, he was disposable. Ponies like Flash were a dime a dozen, failures that spend their lives lamenting over what 'was'. Failed as a Wonderbolt, failed as a guard, and he would probably fail as a marine.

The Pheonix 3 came down hard, slamming it's nose down on the deck as everyone on the deck cringed to the horrendous noise of metal against metal. Sparks flew from it as it slid on its way, and the bomb bay doors tore themselves off, flying backwards along with some other debris. The plane was clearly a write off, but at least they could use some of the parts.

It slid to a halt, and slammed back down on its rear which burst into flames, the firefighters running forward to frantically extinguish the flames. 

Some of the parts.

Spitfire waited a moment, not wanting to get caught in any possible explosion, and then trotted over. What a mess it was, the cockpit had been blasted open, the rear had a huge chunk taken out of it, and an engine was entirely missing. Spitfire couldn't help but be impressed that Flash had managed to land it, maybe he had improved as a pony since he was in the Academy. The cockpit door creaked open, and then clattered to the floor as Flash climbed out, followed by his strange apprentice. Spitfire had allowed them to be together, but soon she would have to tear them apart- there was no ways he was letting that short changeling hit the beach.

"Sergeant Sentry!" Spitfire shouted. 

Flash wearily saluted, and Spitfire noticed his follower was clutching something close to his chest. Spitfire trotted on over.

"Sergeant, I trust you have a good reason for... this?" Spitfire said, gesturing back at the plane- still bursting into flames in places, the firefighters playing a fiery game of whack-a-mole.

"Yes ma'am! Griffons have planes of their own now, ma'am," Flash replied.

Spitfire frowned. She had considered that, but desperately hoped it wasn't true. Now they had lost their dominance of the air- at least until they destroyed those planes. 

"Noted, now did you at least get some pictures before they chased you off?" Spitfire asked.

Flash nodded and prodded his friend, whom seemed to be staring into space as he clutched the tapes. They were digging into his chest, and it did not look comfortable.

"Uhh, Fang, you wanna..." Spitfire said, and then he dropped the tapes to the floor with an echoing clatter before looking at her with what could only be described as total abject horror.

Then he swallowed, and seemed to try and say something before glancing away, and vomiting all over the deck.

Spitfire cringed and turned away, waving an arm to get the radio ponies attention.

"Get a medical team up here!" Spitfire ordered, and turned to pick up the tapes.

Flash leaned down and embraced his friend. "Fang, it's going to be alright," He said softly.

Fang didn't say anything, but a silent stream of tears down the changelings face said more then words. Spitfire had seen this all too often, once the combat was over it caught up to you just what had happened. Once it was over you were free to think, and think, and think. What if this, what if that, how close to death you had really come. If you couldn't force your brain to not really realize the position you were in, it would just go in a horrifying circle and lock down. This is what Fang was experiencing.

She held her place until the medics came, and Spitfire turned to them.

"He's a code green. I want a full physical and mental evaluation before he's put back on duty," Spitfire ordered, gesturing at the pair on the deck behind her.

The medics nodded and one of them tapped Flash on the shoulder, while the other darted around and jabbed Fang with a syringe. Fang yelped, and then went flopped into Flash's hooves. 

Flash softly released him into the care of the medic, whom slung him over his back and trotted out with her partner.

"You take good care of him!" Flash shouted at them, and then turned to Spitfire.

"He'll be alright, won't he?" Flash asked.

Spitfire put a hoof on his shoulder, and spoke softly. "Sergeant, I don't know. I've seen soldiers come back from that and go on to lead long, healthy, careers. I've also seen..." She trailed off, leaving it to Flash.

"We'll do our best for him, now I need to take a look at these tapes," Spitfire said, returning to her usual professional tone. You're assigned to 1st Seaborne as a radio operator, we deploy in four hours," Spitfire added.

Flash nodded. "Yes ma'am," he said, giving a salute and trotting off. 

Spitfire looked at the tapes, and then left the deck out a different exit. Hopefully there was some good news in these.



___________


Two Hours to Operation Bronco


"Bad news, that's the gist of it," Spitfire said, the developed photographs enlarged and lying on the white lit table before her. 

Certain things on the photographs were circled. Flash had only been down there for twenty minutes, and in that short time he managed to get a day's worth of bad news. First was that trio of silos, which they assumed was for launching rockets from a protected position. Gravity bombs weren't going to much against against those, so the fleet itself wouldn't be able to approach within a hundred kilometers- the range of griffon missiles. 

Next was the barracks. Assuming this was the only major installation on the island there were around ten thousand griffons down there, and that was a very poor assumption. Add to this the fact they were dug in and knew the terrain, and the difficulty notched up to 11.

Lastly was the realization that the griffons had aircraft, which meant the role of Wonderbolt fliers would have to be reconsidered. Even a prop-plane could outpace a pegasus, and whatever weapons they carried had made short work of a Phoenix.

"This is bad, are you sure we're still go for 1600?" General Pike asked, standing across the table.

Spitfire sighed. "We have to, the longer we wait the longer they have to fortify and prepare. Either we bleed now, or we wait and bleed more later," She replied.

"You've seen our airship recon, we could barely get within 50 clicks, but it was clear they're building dozens of bunkers," she added.

Pike nodded, pawing at the pictures. "We're going to lose a lot of good ponies down there. If we don't get this done quickly morale and initiative is going to collapse," He said, staring intently at the circled silos.

"Its been easy until now Pike, we've been fighting on our land against an invading army. Now we're half a thousand kilometers away, fighting on their land," Spitfire said, turning to look out the window. The ship had been moved over the clouds to give them the range to shoot a barrage at the island- which was bound to be as accurate as throwing a shoe down a hallway at a pin, but it was important for morale when they launched the landing craft.

It used to be so simple....

"I'll rally the troops, and get the landers prepped. Celestia help us," Pike said.

"We've got no alicorns to help us now Pike, we're all on our own out here," Spitfire said, staring out the window. 

Pike sighed, and pushed open the door. "I wonder what history will think of us," He mumbled to himself.

"When we win," Spitfire turned, and said after him. "We'll be the ones writing it."


___________


Thirty Minutes to Operation Bronco


Flash trotted into the infirmary, clad in a brand new (hoof stitched!) brown-green uniform with the insignia of his unit on the shoulder. He had been assigned to First Seaborne, the premiere marine unit, their insignia was the numeral I on top a waving sea pattern, with Celestia's sun halfway over the 'horizon', in a triangular patch. His triple chevron rank was under that insignia, and his name was on his chest alongside the three ribbons he had earned through his career. Crystal Imperial Service, Canterlot Castle Guard, and Volunteer Service award. To his vast disappointment, he hadn't qualified for a Baltimare Service ribbon, having only been there for a few hours near the end.

Pike might have a coloured career, but he was an organizational genius. He had quickly created an entire new structure for the marines, ten two thousand person units. Each unit was an entirely self-sufficient fighting force, with its own logistics and support companies. Each was led by a Brigadier, the 1st by Brigadier Sunshine. He had recently renamed his corps to 'Celestia's Royal Marine Corps', time would tell if the name stuck. Once Waylay was theirs they would split up, and start carving their own paths.

Trotting amongst the empty beds, noticing that they all had been recently cleaned, one of the nurses noticed him and trotted before him.

"Marine, can I help you?" She asked.

"Yeah, I'm looking for a friend, Fang- changeling, he w-"

The nurse shook her head. "Can't do that marine, he's a code green," She said.

Flash glared at her. "I don't know what that is, I don't care what that is, I want to see my friend!" He demanded.

"A code green means unfit for active duty due to mental or physical exhaustion. We're keeping him here, under close watch, until we decide to discharge him or put him pack on the roster. I can't let you see him- not yet, lest he remember why he's here in the first place," she said, blocking Flash from going around her.

Flash tried harder, and then found a heavy hoof gripping his shoulder. A pony with an MP helmet was at his side. 

"I assure you, we're doing our best," She said, and pointedly gestured to the door.

Flash shook off the MPs arm. "You better," he warned, and stormed out with the MP at his heel.


_______________


Ten Minutes to Operation Bronco


Flash grabbed the radio gear he was supposed to bring, which amounted to a a transmitter on his back with a receiver attached to it. The rest of the equipment, including long range transmission equipment, was waiting on one of the many barges that were along the flight deck. The lack of surface ships with any real armour had forced to work with what they had, so they had simply cut the balloons off a few flying barges, and hastily modified the propellers for the sea, and wheels on the bottom allowed them very basic ground movement. The plan was to board them, and drive out of the Magnificent into the choppy waves below as it hovered low. 

A roaring explosion from below shook the room as the opening bombardment took place, the tension in the vast room with its thousands gathered was actually visible, as here or there a unicorns horn sparked with tension. 

Flash entered the room, and passed a bat pony on his way in. Four large groups waited inside, somepony in the centre of each holding the flag of their unit. He quickly made out the 1st and took a spot near the back, between a rather large earth stallion and a unicorn mare.

The stallion was built like a brick... house, and wore one of the Wonderbolt's twin-barreled guns. Which was odd, because those things were so heavy that nothing less then a trained Wonderbolt at top fitness could carry one. However, looking at him, he clearly could handle it.

Flash cleared his throat, and once he had his attention offered a hoof. "Flash Sentry," he said.

The stallion took his hoof, and nearly crushed it. "Big Mac," he replied.

Flash regained control of his hoof, and turned to the other side where the unicorn stood. She was rather pretty, which a well taken care of grey mane, brown coat, and intense orange eyes. Her horn sparked each time the cannons below fired. On her back was a medics bag.

"Mary-eee" She squealed, as the ship rapidly descended her voice her voice went in the opposite direction.

"Frosthorn," she finished, as the ship finished its descent. The ride was like an elevator, going twice as fast. The steel of the ship groaned with the force.

"Flash Sentry, nice to meet you," Flash said, shaking her hoof.

She gave him a weak smile, her horn still sparking with anxiety. The Magnificent was creaking ominously all around, and the sound of heavy rain on the metal roof echoed through the hall.

"Pegasus huh? Shouldn't you be with the Wonderbolts?" She asked.

Flash shrugged, and prodded his prosthetic. "They don't take anything less then peak health, and I'm a leg away from that," he quipped.

"Oh, I'm uhh... sorry to hear that," Mary said, and then tapped her horn in an attempt to stop the constant sparking.

"Don't worry about it," Flash said. "What's your story then? Most unicorns are in special operations or leadership, not too many unicorn grunts," he asked.

She gave up, and tried simply not to be distracted by her horn. "I'm good at math, and I'm pretty good with fire magic, not much use for me up there," she said, and gestured ahead of the crowd to where General Pike was taking his position at a podium.

"Well its good to h-" Flash began, but was forced to attention, along with all the others, automatically by the General calling them to such.

"Colts and fillies, welcome to the first day of the end of this war! Today we finally start striking the griffons on their own land, and we intend to strike hard," He yelled over them all.

"Make no mistake, this is not going to be an easy- or a short, fight. We face an entrenched enemy, one that knows the terrain and knows we're coming. Every day we let them be, they grow stronger. So we're not going to let them be, we're going to crush them!" He shouted, to a reply of anxious excited shouting from the crowd.

"First Seaborn is going to hit the beach first, board ships one through seven!" He ordered, and Flash's unit shuffled along towards those ships.

"Celestia help us. Baltimare was one thing, but attacking an island, in the rain, without any real planning?" Mary questioned.

The general continued barking orders, but Flash had his and it faded into the background along with the Magnifiecent's buzzing intercom

"The General is right, if we don't get a hoofhold soon they'll fortify," Flash said.

"Yup," Big Mac said beside them.

Flash glanced at the weapon he wore. Whatever happened out there, it was good to know this was the pony he was going in with.

Trotting up the ramp of the nearest landing ship as a trio, they took a position in the middle surrounded quickly by their comrades. No seats, just a hundred ropes dangling from the roof so the troops could keep themselves stable. 

It looked like a hundred nooses hanging in a steel coffin, which was oddly poetic. 

Once it was full the ramp slid upwards and clanked against the vessel with a heavy clank, and then with a roar the propellers and motor fired up. 

"So we're really doing this, Celestia help us all," somepony said. 

Somepony in the background threw up, it was starting to be that sort of day.

A siren blared, quieting the group, and then a radio buzzed somewhere near the front.

"Welcome aboard Marine Public Transit fillies, colts. Next stop..."

There was a noisy clunk, and Flash had to grab the rope hard to keep himself steady as the vehicle started forward.

"... Waylay island!" the voice shouted, and the vehicle shot off the end of the Magnificent's flight deck. For a moment in time the occupants felt weightless, and then they were gently lifted into the air as the ship descended, slower then what would be natural for a steel hulk of that size- but far faster then they would have liked.

The period of peace ended, and the craft fell into the waters with an enormous splash that sent a few of the passengers flying. 

"No going back now," Mary noted.

"Nope."


_______________


One minute into Operation Bronco


Spitfire stood on the bridge of the Magnificent, uneasily aware of the fact it was hovering only a hundred meters above the choppy sea- the lower deck only ten or so. The landing ships were watertight, and had a levitation spell on them, but a hundred meters was the highest they could launch them safely from the flight deck. It was a vast oversight to not have a surface fleet, and they were paying for it now.

"Dust, Soarin, Fleetfloot wings follow them in, hold Dash wing back until ordered," She commanded, and glanced back at flight control to see it was carried out.

"Fleetfoot reports delays, some injuries reported when a gale hit the Solaris," Leftenant Clear Skies said.

Spitfire rolled her eyes. "I don't care, order them to go now," She ordered.

The Magnificent had its own fair share of bruises from being down in this weather for so long, but she was well built. It would take more then a little wind or water to stop her.

She then turned her attention across the room. "Communications, any report from Phoenix 2 or 8?" she asked.

"Nothing, they've been doing a wide circle over the clouds just as ordered, but if they have a fleet- it isn't up there," Echo said.

Spitfire sighed, and looked out the window again twenty landing craft were racing their way towards the island.

"Get us back above the clouds Northstar, and signal the rest to the do the same," Spitfire ordered.

Echo replied in the affirmative, it took Spitfire a second to realize Captain Northstar hadn't- and the ship wasn't moving.

Spitfire turned back, and saw Northstar staring ahead idly.

"Captain Northstar!" She shouted, and the mare shot to attention.

"Yes ma'am, up ma'am!" She responded, throwing a lever and shaking the ship as it shot upwards, nearly throwing Spitfire off her footing.

She sighed and rubbed her forehead, as the ship shot above the clouds and then, thankfully more softly, settled along with the rest to hang in the open sunny sky. Once it had done so, Spitfire pointed towards the helm.

"Captain, my office, now," Spitfire ordered, and trotted around the rest of the bridge while the crew pointedly ignored her, and Northstar following at her tail.

Spitfire opened the door, and gestured to the chair before her desk.

"Sit," she ordered.

Northstar did so, and Spitfire shut the door behind them.

"Captain Northstar," Spitfire addressed, taking her seat.

"You're distracted," she accused.

"I.. I'm ju-" Northstar tried to respond, but was interrupted when Spitfire slammed the desk and loomed over her.

"Your son is in the Marines, I understand, that your worried. That doesn't mean I can accept it. If I see another lapse in your abilities, I'll discharge him," Spitfire warned.

"You can't discharge him for my mistakes!" Northstar exclaimed.

"You're worth a lot more to me then he is, and you better believe I can captain," Spitfire returned.

"If you discharge him, I'll resign," Northstar threatened.

"Try that, and I'll have you court martialed for dereliction of duty. We're at war captain, you don't get to act like this is a soap opera!" Spitfire growled.

"Dismissed to quarters for today, get a handle on yourself," Spitfire ordered.

Northstar's face contorted to nearly a snarl, but she managed to suppress her emotions well enough to snap off a salute and dart out the door.

Spitfire sighed.

"I really hate doing that," she said, and glanced at the portrait of Commander Hurricane.

Taking a deep breath to collect herself, she turned back to the door.

Which shut, and a bat pony stood in its place. Grey coat, grey mane, yellow eyes- the usual, except what the hell was she doing here? 

"Who are you, and why are you in my office?" Spitfire demanded, hitting a small alarm button under her desk.

The mare smiled. "I already disabled the alarm, now have a seat," she said.

Spitfire glared at her, and then became quite aware of a gleaming metal object on her thigh.

"Your guards didn't even notice me- nor did that mare, which has made my job all the easier. A boat of distracted idiots," she said, and unholstered that weapon.

"Now sit," she ordered.

Spitfire kept up her glare, but did so. 

Play for time.

"You realize this is treason? You'll never get back to Equestria alive," Spitfire warned.

"Oh yes I will, I will take one of those planes, and the rest will go up in flames. The ultimate power will belong to us, and there will be nothing to touch us in the sky," she boasted.

Spitfire thought quickly. Could somepony be so insane as to cripple the war effort to make a play for power at home?

"I wonder what Queen Luna thinks of this? She'll have you hanged for treason when she catches you," Spitfire said, and leaned forward despite the gun.

"She will catch you," 

The mare laughed, and pointed the gun away for a split second- probably to gloat more. It was enough for Spitfire, and probably her only chance, so she put all her strength forward and flipped the desk over at the mare.

It slammed into her, but only knocked her backwards. Spitfire lunged forward after it, but the bat was already darting out the door.

"Coward!" Spitfire shouted, missing her and slamming into the floor. 

The mare ignored this, and flew forward firing at the- only repaired a day ago- window to the outside. 

"Don't shoot that y-" Spitfire was too late, and the mare did. The glass blew outwards, and she shot out of it.

"Clear Skies!" Spitfire shouted, and turned to the shocked flight controller.

"Recall Rainbow Wing!" She ordered, and quickly turned across to Leftenant Echo. "Sound the alarm, intruder on the ship!" She ordered likewise.

"And get me a connection to Canterlot!" 


_______________


Fourty minutes into Operation Bronco


Flash, and the rest, were getting uneasy in the eternal wait to landing. He swore he had spent days in the steel box they all found themselves in, bumping along the waves.

"How much longer?" Flash asked Mary.

"What, you think I know?" she replied.

The radio buzzed, thankfully, and the room became silent.

"Welcome to Waylay island!" The pilot shouted, and the craft jostled them around as it hit the shallow water.

"Here we go!" Flash shouted, and gripped the rope for dear life as the landing craft stabilized and crashed onto the beach, driving a few meters up.

"Give em hell!" The radio buzzed, and a siren blared a moment before the steel ramp crashed down onto the beach. It was not pretty outside, a muddy grey beach with a forested cliff a hundred meters beyond, but it was land.

The group charged, and Flash was jostled forward as they gave a collective warcry. The red behemoth on his right was out first, firing those cannons downrange at the trees.

In reply came an entire line of gunfire pounding down on them, but each group had a few unicorns trained for that- and kept a shield above. It couldn't last forever though.

"Where's our air cover?!" Flash shouted over the chaos as he ran forward. he had expected the Wonderbolts to make short work of anything on the ground. 

"Why would I know?!" Mary replied, casting a fireball forwards. Glancing to either side Flash saw the other craft hitting the beach, and disgorging their own forces. Thousands of ponies clambered up the beach, many of them wouldn't make it to the end.

He wiped the rain off his face as he went on, and reached the ending cliff alongside the rest of them.They had all made it, thanks to the unicorns.

"Sentry!" Somepony shouted.

"Sergeant Sentry!" They shouted again.

"I'm here!" Flash shouted, and waved a hoof over the line of ponies taking shelter at the cliff.

"Front and centre!" He ordered. 

Flash swallowed, and gingerly made his way across the line to where Brigadier Sunshine stood. All around them the sound of gunfire could be heard back and forth, melding in with the screams of thousands. One of the groups had been pinned into their landing craft, a huge torrent of gunfire tearing the sand up before it.

The brigadier grabbed Flash, and pulled him to his side. Without saying anything more he took the receiver off his pack, and frantically started yelling into it.

"This is 1st actual, I need a sitrep on that air cover!"

The radio buzzed, and then Flash cringed at the horribly loud noise as a dozen planes flew over them towards the sea, and up into the clouds.

"Air cover is engaged 1st, you're on your own," was the reply.

Brigadier Sunshine swore, and slammed the phone back on Flash's back. Out along the beach was a terrible scene- Wonderbolts.

Fallen Wonderbolts, coming down with the rain from the hazy sky, their uniforms torn and bloody.

"Stay focused people!" Sunshine yelled.

"Sir, we can't hold these shields any longer!" One of the unicorns shouted, as the purple half-circle started shimmering as it was pockmarked by incoming bullets.

"You did good, we just needed you for the beach!" The Brigadier shouted, and pointed down the cliff. 

"You lucky bunch are on point, there's a ramp fifty meters down the line! Unicorns up front, light it up!" He ordered.

The unit shuffled forward, Flash staying at the brigadier's side as was his job.

"You picked a good day to not be a Wonderbolt son," he noted.

Flash stared at the cliff, desperate to not look the other way.


_______________


Fifty minutes into Operation Bronco


Spitfire was the the helm of the ship, regretting sending away Captain Northstar. 

"Fleetfoot reports engagement, Dusureports engagement," Clear Skies said, keeping track of the horror unfolding in the silent distance. Above the clouds it was peaceful, serene.

Below them it was hell.

"What about Dash and Soarin?" Spitfire asked.

"Rainbow is on her way back, she's going to be sore with you for keeping her out of this," She replied.

"Nothing from Soarin" she added.

Spitfire sighed. That damn traitorous mare forced them to divert needed resources, and they couldn't launch the Pheonix's knowing full well they had bombs on board. They were being looked over, but there were a lot of places to hide a bomb on those planes.

Hearing the door open behind them, Spitfire grinned at the first good news of the day.

"Good work, where did you find her?" Spitfire asked, leaving the helm to approach the- bruised and battered- bat pony mare held by two gruff military police officers.

"In the infirmary, she was trying to poison the changeling," One of them replied.

"That so? Stick her in the brig, and keep a heavy guard," Spitfire ordered.

The bat pony spat at her. "This isn't over," She growled.

The MPs pulled her out before Spitfire could vent her rage, and she stood there for a moment to collect herself.

After a deep breath, she started back over to the helm. 

"Inform Dash Wing they can return to the front, and cancel the alarm," Spitfire ordered on her way.

"Will do m..." Clear Skies trailed off, and Spitfire glanced over to see her slide the headset off, and stare towards Spitfire with a pale face of horror.

"Ma'am, we've lost Soarin Wing," she said.

"What about Soarin?" Spitfire asked 

"Ma'am, we lost the entire wing."


_______________


Two Hours into Operation Bronco


An explosion sent debris and dirt flying into the air, forcing Flash to cower down with his hooves over his head. Their company was slowly pushing up the opening into the forest, but casualties were mounting. Four times he had seen Mary drag back a pony, back to the beach where so many others lie.

The living were muddy, wet. and cold, but their adrenaline meant none of them noticed that.

Another explosion shook the group, and sent Flash diving into the mud again. The explosion however was a good ways ahead of them, and was followed by a dozen more- coming from behind.

"We've got our air cover, charge!" Brigadier Sunshine yelled, and Flash leapt up with his weapon- just a tiny sidearm- firing frantically in the general direction of 'them'. A griffon poked out of the foliage, and quickly received a fresh hole, falling forward out of the brush.

"Good shot son!" Brigadier Sunshine shouted as they all charged forward, the griffons retreating under the hail of fire coming from the air. The company pursued them through the threes, and emerged into a field, the griffons exiting into the trees on the other side.

"Company hold!" The Brigadier ordered, the company coming to a halt just inside the field, he grabbed the phone from Flash's backpack.

"This is 1st actual, we have reached the first waypoint. We will settle here as planned, over!" He said.

"Roger that 1st actual. The rest have reached their waypoints as well. Sit tight, over" was the reply.

Brigadier Sunshine hung up the phone, and took a quick look over the group.

"Congratulations everypony, you're now prime company! I want a perimeter set up a hundred meters from that treeline, start digging!" He ordered, and leaned closer to Flash.

"You're my lieutenant in charge of the signals company now, get the rest of the radio gear from the landing craft and get it set up. Good work today," He said.

Flash smiled, and gave a sharp salute. "Yes sir! Thank you sir!" He shouted, and left back the way they came while the company started digging in. Checking his watch, he noted that the last month had only lasted two hours.

Just as things started to settle down, a pair of griffons charged out of the trees at them, firing randomly with their rifles. Flash dove to the ground and fired his pistol, it meeting the force of a hundred rifles, stopping them dead in their tracks after only a few seconds.

"I don't get it, why charge like that?" Flash wondered.

"Some misplaced sense of honor probably, no go get that gear," Sunshine said.

Clambering down the muddy earthen ramp a minute later, he looked across the beach. A few dozen medics, Mary among them, were checking the fallen Wonderbolts for signs of life. A few dozen of them, screaming pain, were being dragged into one of the landing craft. Flash looked away, and stared towards their landing ship, desperate not to think about it. He arrived at the boat, full of holes and not going anywhere for a while by the looks of it, and clambered inside. At the end was a series of boxes, which lay scattered on the floor from their rough landing. Trotting to them he found the one he needed- helpfully marked SIGNALS EQUIPMENT, and pulled it out after himself to the end.

At the mouth of the vehicle, he put it down and sat on the box staring outwards, shaking himself dry. The rain continued to pour down on the muddy beach, thousands of hoofmarks marked alongside scattered shells, and bodies lay here and there. The medics had started pulling them together, for burial back in Equestria.

The sounds of gunfire still echoed through the air, but were scattered and fading into the distance. They had won their foothold, but at what price Flash had no earthly idea. This was just the start too, if this was the price they paid for the first kilometre- they had fifty more to go.

He sighed, and sat there for a few minutes listening to the sound of rain against the metal ship. It wouldn't be here for much longer, they were due back out once they had gotten their supplies to get more, so he relished his time in the relatively safe and dry metal cave.

Before leaving Flash looked down on his uniform, muddy and torn in a few places, and was startled to find a dark red patch on his chest. Frantically rubbing at it he breathed a sigh of relief to find the blood wasn't his own. Looking at his backpack he found that the radio had suffered a worse fate, a large hole in it meaning that at some point it had taken a bullet for him, and he had been lugging it around for no reason. He shook his head and slid it off his back, letting it crash to the floor of the ship before pulling the box out behind him on his way out, back to work. 

Pulling the box behind him up the muddy beach a few others passed him to gather the rest of the gear. Perhaps it was best Fang had been able to avoid this. There wasn't any glory here, those Wonderbolts wouldn't go home to a hero's reception. They wouldn't go home at all, and Flash had narrowly avoided the same fate were it not for his radio gear. Fang would have been torn to pieces. 

He had to push the box ahead of himself up the ramp, sliding in the muddy trampled grass. As he did he wondered what it was like back in Equestria, the worst they had to worry about was the harsh winter coming. Out here he had to worry about getting shot.

For a moment he was angry at them, safe and happy in their homes. They were fed, warm, and rested. That moment passed though, and he reminded himself why he had volunteered in the first place years ago. Somepony had to shoulder the world, make the sacrifices that needed to be made. History called them heroes, and that's what they were. No single one of them, all of them. They were all here so those in Equestria could continue to be fed, warm, and rested- never having to worry about a griffon shooting at them. 

"Remember Baltimare," Flash mumbled, and suddenly found the box much lighter.

Mary came to his side, somehow managing to smile despite being soaked with water, mud, and blood.

"Thanks, and uhh- you might want to wash up," Flash said.

She looked down at herself, and frowned. "You're right, but there's not much I can do right now," She said.

Flash got the box over the top of the hill, and went to the front to pull it again. To his relief she took the back, and they both carried it forward.

"How do you do it? I can take being shot at just fine, but... that," Flash asked.

Mary looked through him. "I worked at Canterlot General for a while, you learn to.... detach yourself. Learn to take your mind, and leave. Bring it back once it's over, and forget it," She said.

Flash met her gaze. "You never really can really forget though, can you?" He asked.

"No."


_______________


Two Hours Thirty Minutes into Operation Bronco


Spitfire sat in her quarters, alone. The beachhead was taken, and the Wonderbolt flights had returned- most of them. Soarin was gone, forever. They had their hoofhold, at a cost. A heavy cost. That damn bat had thrown a wrench into everything, she had even destroyed their long range transmitter, and it would be a day before it was repaired. Spitfire would let rot in the brig for a day before... calmly asking a few questions.

She poured a glass of cider, and put her Wonderbolt crest on the table before downing it. This was her operation, planned and authorized by her. She took the blame for this disaster.

"We should have waited," She mumbled, and poured the glass full again. 

Before she could drink there was a knock on the door.

"It's open," She said, and heard it slide open. She didn't look to see who it was, she didn't care.

"Ma'am, we found something," Captain Northstar said. Spitfire glanced over to see her clutching something in her hoof, which she laid on the table.

It was Soarins shoulder badge, outlined in gold- the mark of a Wing Commmander. The insignia for his wing, as per tradition, was his own cutie mark- a yellow bolt surrounded by twin tall clouds. It was scorched, and spotted with mud. Spitfire held it, and tears streamed down her face.

"It's my fault, this was my plan, they died because of me," Spitfire lamented, reaching for the glass.

Northstar swept it aside, splashing its contents onto the floor.

"It's not your fault ma'am, it's their fault- the griffons, that bat, they're the enemy," she said, and sat next to Spitfire.

Spitfire sighed, and gently placed the badge on the table next to hers

"I shouldn't have been so hard on you, I just.. I need to be perfect, an unmoving pillar of command, so I'm hard on everyone. I can't make friends, I can't be nice, or I'll start making bad decisions," She lamanted. 

"Then this happens!" She shouted, and slammed the table, her hoof shuddering. 

"M... Spitfire, you can't take the entire war on your own shoulders. We're an army, we fight as one. You're the best commander in the history of the Wonderbolts, if you make a mistake- anyone else would have too." Northstar said, putting a hoof over Spitfire's shoulder.

Spitfire shrugged it off, and angrily turned to her. "That's not the point! I can't make any mistakes, my mistakes cost lives!" She yelled.

Northstar grabbed her. "Fine, then tell me what the mistake was!" She demanded.

"I don't know!" Spitfire returned.

"Exactly! You couldn't have done anything different. You can't second guess yourself like this. The die was cast, and we went with the best we had. Nopony blames you," Northstar said.

Spitfire sighed, and fell backwards to lay on the carpet, staring upwards at the metal roof. 

"How many more Northstar?" She asked.

Northstar adjusted her uniform, and turned to leave. "Too many," She said, and left her commander to her thoughts.



_______________


Wednesday, August 27th, 1001.
Equestrian Marine Corps Status: 20856 Operational, 156 Injured, 676 KIA or MIA


Wonderbolts Status: 6 Capital ships, 26 frigates, 37 corvettes. 7 lost.


Weather: Light rains, visibility moderate.


Seventeen Hours into Operation Bronco


Spitfire stood before the updated list, and hung Soarins wing insignia beside it. The cutie mark of a Wonderbolt that would never fly again, she only hoped he was in a better place now. His wing had been ten squadrons, each of ten pegasi- and only ten made it back. Almost a hundred of them, lost in a matter of minutes when those damn planes showed up. The Marines had bled in Baltimare. and now the Wonderbolts had bled at Waylay. She then turned to the next board, and stared at it.


RAINBOW WING: 664 CONFIRMED, 27 UNCONFIRMED
LIGHTNING WING: 427 CONFIRMED, 65 UNCONFIRMED
SOARIN WING: 257 CONFIRMED, 22 UNCONFIRMED
FLEETFOOT WING: 322 CONFIRMED 0 UNCONFIRMED


FLEET SCORE: 7 CAPITAL, SIX FRIGATE, 27 TRANSPORT, 37 FIXED WING


She picked up the eraser, and began to erase the third line before pausing. Thinking a moment, she skipped over the first part, and then wrote something in place of the rest.


SOARIN WING: MAY WE NEVER FORGET.


She then turned to the assembled bridge crew, behind them the shattered window had been covered up hastily by a plastic tarp, which fluttered in the breeze.

"Alright everybody, let's get back to work. Marines will be back on the move soon, have the Pheonix's been cleared yet?" Spitfire asked.

"Yes ma'am, went over them myself last night, our friend hid a surprise in the engines," Stiff Wing replied.

"Good, get them back in the air- missile load. Weather is clearing up, if those planes show up again we can nail them," Spitfire ordered.

"Aye eye," Clear Skies said, and took her position at the flight control station.

"Rest of you, get to your stations. It's going to be a long day," Spitfire said, and took another look at the board before taking her seat.


_______________


Eighteen Hours into Operation Bronco


Flash Sentry stood beside BrigadierSunshine inside the command tent, after getting what could only jokingly be called 'a nights rest'. The rain still came down, but it was starting to let up, and hopefully by the end of the day it would stop.  Before them was a vastly outdated map of the island, the scant recon they had drawn on it, and the positions of the units marked by plastic markers. 1st Seaborne had taken the east beach, and managed to take it much faster then the others- which had arrived later. 2nd and 3rd were to the west of them, the rest were arriving by the hour into the breach they had opened. By the end of the day eighteen thousand of them- 10th Seaborne kept back as reserves- would be on the beaches.

"Alright, here's the plan," Brigadier Sunshine said to his assembled company leaders. "I want Able and Baker holding back covering the landing zones. Prime is going to move up on this series of silos, brass wants those missiles out of the game so we can start bombing from the air, and get the ships closer. " he ordered.

"Captain Tradewind, how are we for logisitics?" Sunshine asked. 

"Pretty good sir, half of the landing craft had to be scuttled- but that's more then we expected to keep. We're well supplied, for now," he said.

"First good news of the week, dismissed," Sunshine said, and turned to Flash as the others left.

"As soon as Prime reports success, call the fleet," He ordered. 

"Yes sir," Flash said, saluting. 

He turned to leave, but then glanced back. There was something that had been bugging him all morning. 

"Sir, how many griffons did we get yesterday?" Flash asked.

The brigadier leaned on the board, grinning. "Five hundred," he replied.

Flash grinned himself, and left for the signals tent at the end of the clearing. The company that had bunked here last night was moving out, a few hundred ponies off to fight the days battle. Staying behind were logistics, medical, and of course his signals company. Signals was the smallest, with only a dozen here in the camp, and one in each squad out there. That put their total at somewhere around fifty, Flash wasn't sure of the exact number yet.

He brushed aside the flap, and found his new charges at a few wooden tables with radios before them, and headsets on. They, being the lucky few that had to stay alert while not actually leaving their stations, had mugs of coffee on the tables before them.

"Good morning colts, what's the sitrep?" Flash asked. 

"Companies are moving out, not much to report yet. We got lucky here, apparently 2nd landed right next to the griffons barracks, they got chased down the beach for hours last night," one of them- Private Excavo, said. 

"Good, now do we have a link with the fleet?" Flash asked.

" 'Fraid not sir, they can receive- but they can't transmit. We've been sending runners with the landing ships to get news," 

"That's... a problem, what happened out there?" 

"From what I heard, a traitor tried to take out Spitfire, managed to wreck the transmitter too. Damn bats," Another pony said, near the back of the tent.

Flash took his position at the end of the tent, and turned on his radio, which was beside a teletype. The teletype machines in Equestria were useful, but out here nobody had the time to type out messages. They relied on radio for communication between units now, with the only teletype connected to the Magnificent. 

Which was useless at the moment.

Putting on the headset, Flash Sentry went to work. He and his fellows managed communications within the 1st between companies and squads, calling mortars down where they needed to be, and ensuring everyone was at the right position. The next few hours went by in a blur, the noise of their comrades outside and in the distance reminding them that at the other end of these radios were real ponies, fighting for their lives.

"This is prime, objective secure," Flash heard through his headset.

He grinned, and changed the frequency.

"Wonderbolt Fleet, bring the thunder."


_______________


Nineteen Hours into Operation Bronco


Spitfire strode into the brig, two of the biggest MPs she could find at her side. They hadn't really used the brig for much, and it had became rather run down over the years. Paint was chipped, a few of the lights flickered, and the stale air smelt of rain that had gotten in. The ambience was perfect for what it was.

Their prisoner had been tossed in the furthest cell, in the far corner. Spitfire came to a halt before it and ran a hoof along the bars to wake the mare up.

"Good morning!" Spitfire addressed, the bruised bat pony glaring at her silently. 

"Here's the deal, traitor. Tell me who sent you, your specific orders, and you get tried for treason. Refuse, and I'll execute you for treason myself- I have that power," Spitfire said.

"I was ordered to kill you, and destroy the aircraft Celestia so foolishly gave you. The night sky is ours 'air martial'," she said.

Spitfire was stunned for a moment at how open she had been.

"Where did you get such treasonous orders? You can't possibly be acting alone," Spitfire asked.

"Now isn't that the question? I'll never tell," The mare spat.

Spitfire had planned for this, and gave a shrill whistle. A moment later a unicorn came to her side.

"Say hello to my good friend Sergeant Bolt, Bolt here is very talented with lightning magic, and he's going ask you a question," Spitfire said, and stepped aside.

"What is your name?" Bolt asked, in a gruff voice. He was a large stallion unicorn, his yellow coat and orange main marked by his cutie mark- a blue web of electricity. 

"Bite me," The mare said. 

Bolt's horn shone, and an arc of electricity shot out at her, arcing all over body as she cringed with pain. 

Once the sparks had stopped coming off her, he asked again.

"M...oonlight... S...hadow," She stammered.

"Good, now answer the Air Martial's question- who sent you?" He growled. His eyes were glowing so brightly that the bars were illuminated by them, he was certainly putting on the 'charm', Spitfire noted.

"Queen Luna," She replied.

Bolt looked at Spitfire, unsure how to proceed.

"Queen Luna would never order something like this, you're lying," Spitfire said.

"Am I?" Moonlight said, wobbly trotting over to the bars.

"Who leads the Night Guard? Who benefits the most from all this? Our Queen will reign for a thousand years!" 

She leapt at the bars, Spitfire backing off as she grinned crazily at them. 

"Shock her," Spitfire ordered, and a bolt of electricity threw her backwards, writhing in pain on the ground.

"Bu..ck you!" She spat.

"Again," Spitfire growled.

Bolt hesitated for a second, but did as ordered.

"Remem..."

"Again!" Spitfire ordered, and then was startled by a shout down the hall. 

"Air Martial Spitfire, what the hell is this?!" Pike yelled.

"My job!" Spitfire yelled back. "Again!" 

"Stand down Sergeant!" Pike yelled, quickly sliding to a halt shortly down the hall from the others.

"Shock her again!" Spitfire yelled.

"You three, dismissed!" Pike ordered.

They hesitated for a moment, but after glancing at the raging Air Martial, decided to honor Pike's order and left down the hall silently, passing him.

"Spitfire, save your fire. You're getting damn close to war crimes here," he warned.

Spitfire clenched and unclenched her hoof, as the fire drained from her eyes. Her heart thumped The mare inside the cell had been thrown into unconsciousness, but was still breathing. Spitfire wanted nothing more then to strangle the life out of her, all those Wonderbolts that would never see Equestria again. She was no better then the griffons, and all her anger at them was directed at the target within reach- her.

She took a deep breath, and turned to her counterpart. 

"Thank you," She said.

Pike nodded, and led her towards the exist. "Don't mention it, we're all here to support eachother, and we're all on edge. I'm just glad I happened to be on my way down here myself, and got here before you did something you'd regret," he said.

"Would I really regret it? One less enemy," Spitfire asked.

"Don't go down that road Air Martial, that's griffon thinking. If we become them to beat them, have we really beat them?" Pike returned.

"What if they're right?" Spitfire asked, as he opened the door into the hallway.

"I'm going to pretend you didn't say that," Pike said, and strode onwards, allowing the heavy door to fall back on Spitfire.

"And instead ask you what you learned before I got here," He said.


_______________


Twenty Four Hours into Operation Bronco


Spitfire returned to the bridge after lunch, having explained to Pike what she had learned. He was on his way to the front now, on one of the resupply landing craft. He bet a thousand bits that Luna wasn't actually behind this, and Spitfire believed him. Whatever was going on back home was more complicated than that, but it would have to wait.

"Situation report," Spitfire ordered, closing the door behind her.

"First and third are engaged, second is still holding, fourth through ninth are formed up and awaiting orders," Echo replied, and then held up a hoof as she listened into something.

She smiled, and took a deep breath. "First called the thunder," she said.

Spitfire grinned ear to ear and rubbed her hooves together. "Finally!" Contact the fleet and close to ten kilometers, launch the Pheonixes, and prepare for shore bombardment!" She ordered, stepping around to her seat while the room became a flurry of actively.

They were finally back on track. Whatever was going on back in Equestria be damned, they had a war to win out here- and they were.

"Stiff, what's the status of our transmitter?" Spitfire asked.

"In a word, bad. In more words, we won't be able to call home or use the teletypes, we're down to one way radio communication with the island," he replied.

"Well that's great, don't we have backups?" Spitfire asked.

"Yes, but she got those too."

"What about the other ships, can't they transmit?" 

"Not over this range, we'd need to close within five kilometers," Swift replied.

Spitfire sighed, two steps backward and one step forward. 

"Fire a salvo at the far end of the island, I don't give a damn about accuracy- just give them a show," She ordered.

"Aye aye," Leftenant True Shot said, and mere moments later the guns on the deck below shook the ship as they loosed their payload downrange.

At least they were fighting with their full strength now.

_______________


Twenty Five Hours into Operation Bronco


Flash sighed and sat back in seat, slipping the headset off his head. It had been a long day for him and his company, but it was over now. The rest of the companies were returning victorious for the day, to cheers outside. 

"Alright everypony, take a break an-" Flash spoke, but was drowned out by a huge whistling roar from above, followed by an explosion that shook the ground. The Magnificent had been pounding the island for the last hour.

"And get ready for tomorrow, we'll be going out, and they'll take a turn here," Flash ordered.

His weary counterparts left silently. Since the Magnificent was unable to transmit they could leave the tent unattended, so he followed them, holding a mug of coffee in his hoof. Seven hours of relaying commands and ensuring everyone out there was doing their job was exhausting, but at least it had been dry. The rain had stopped a few hours ago, giving way to a clear sky as the companies returned. A few medics pulled wounded towards the medical tents, and that's where Flash headed.

Mary was outside, sitting on a box clad in a red stained apron and redder gloves. 

Mary saw him, and smiled- putting the box beside her. "Evening sergeant, busy day?" She asked Flash as he approached.

"You have no idea, and it's lieutenant now," Flash said, smirking with his announcement.

"Well isn't that nice, getting promoted on the first day. What's next, general?" she joked.

"Give me a month Mary, and I'll make field martial," Flash said. "I suppose they've been keeping you busy too," he added.

Mary shrugged. "It was worse after the attack in Canterlot, that was sheer chaos. Out here though, everypony knows their place. We're like a well oiled machine," she said.

"Yup," Big Mac said, and sat down the crate beside them, and dropped his back mounted gun behind with an wet thunk. Flash noted his rank for the first time- private.

"Welcome back. I'm sure they worked you hard, must be nice having a gunboat out there," Flash said.

"Yup."


_______________


Thursday, August 28th, 1001.
Equestrian Marine Corps Status: 20556 Operational, 256 Injured, 776 KIA or MIA


Wonderbolts Status: 6 Capital ships, 26 frigates, 37 corvettes. 7 lost.


Weather: Clear skies, visibility perfect.


Thirty Nine Hours into Operation Bronco


Spitfire went past the update, far more interested in the other board.


DASH WING: 702 CONFIRMED, 27 UNCONFIRMED
DUSTWING: 467 CONFIRMED, 65 UNCONFIRMED
SOARIN WING: MAY WE NEVER FORGET
FLEETFOOT WING: 332 CONFIRMED 0 UNCONFIRMED


FLEET SCORE: 7 CAPITAL, SIX FRIGATE, 27 TRANSPORT, 39 FIXED WING


Yesterday, despite the rough start, had been a good day. They had managed to push a full ten kilometers into the island, and with the skies clear they finally had a good view of it. To their relief that griffon camp was indeed the only major one, and thanks to 2nd Seaborne they had managed to pin the majority of their troops inside. The Magnificent and a few other ships had spent the night raining down shells on the general area, but couldn't keep that up for too long without resupply. The Pheonixes had been doing runs as well, but kept getting forced to abort when planes showed up. They couldn't risk losing any of them, so the bombing had been called for now.

It wasn't all good news however. The griffons had moved their own air fleet in and secured the opposite side of the island. Spitfire didn't dare move her own fleet onwards until she knew more about the enemy on the other side, if they had missiles they could make short work of the Magnificent. So that remained back, about thirty kilometres, surrounded by a small cloud of pickets. The bulk of the fleet was further towards the island, waiting for orders to attack. That was today's objective- remove the enemy's ability to reinforce. The ground was to take a backseat, they were meeting little resistance as they continued up the island anyway, and it was slow going through the forest. The reinforced griffons and advancing marines would probably engage sometime tomorrow, if Wonderbolt recon was right.

Spitfire sighed. If only she still had that recon plane, or some machine to tell her what was in the air beyond what she- or her Wonderbolts- could see. 

She turned to her assembled crew. "Alright everypony, let's get through today without anymore surprises, to your stations," She ordered.

The bridge crew saluted, and ambled over to their respective stations. Spitfire followed Leftanent Echo, and looked over her communications panel. Dozens of knobs and plugs, it was quite a complicated board.  

"Have you gotten through to Canterlot yet?" Spitfire asked.

"Haven't tried yet ma'am, they only got the transmitter fixed last night," Echo replied, settling into her seat and picking up the headset.

"Well try now," Spitfire ordered, impatient to finally connect with home.

Echo flicked a few switches, and turned a dial while she listened intently.

"Canterlot, this is Fleet One, do you copy?" She asked several times, before apparently getting a reply.

"I.. I've got Canterlot on the line, but I don't know who this is on the other end," She said.

Spitfire gestured with a hoof. "Give it here," she commanded. Echo handed her the headset and she put it over her head.

"Canterlot, this is Wonderbolt Actual, who is this?" Spitfire asked.

A short pause, and then the reply came through. It was distorted by some sort of interference, and barely audible.

"Wonderbolt Actual, this is Archer. Your transmission has been intercepted, and you are ordered to cease contact."

Spitfire pressed her hooves onto the board. "Who the hell are you? Intercepting critical communications is a felony!" She snarled.

"I'm well aware," Archer said, and then a burst of static tore through Spitfire's head, forcing her to throw off the headset.

"What the hell is going on over there?!" Spitfire exclaimed, angrily slamming the board, and making a series of dials jiggle.

"I don't know," Echo said, and picked her headset off the floor, "but please smash a different board next time, it's going to take me three hours to fix these dials," she complained bitterly.

Spitfire coughed. "Uh, noted. Carry on."

_______________


Thirty Nine Hours into Operation Bronco


1st Seaborne set off early in the crisp morning, packing up and setting out to hopefully get across most of the island before sundown. Apparently the griffons had landed on the other side, and while 2nd Seaborne- backed up by 5th and 7th now pinned their comrades in their barracks, that meant the rest of them would have to press to the other side. They expected the griffons to be doing the same, and they would surely meet in the middle- where that airfield lay.

Flash was up next to Brigadier Sunshine, and they were both being tailed by an Equestria Daily field reporter. He had remained silent, just taking notes on a notebook he carried with him. The stallion had gone through bootcamp just like the rest of them, and was armed, but Flash didn't expect much out of the lanky earth pony. First Page, cutie mark as such, probably not somepony you wanted to rely on when manure hit the fan.

Sunshine stopped and stuck up a hoof to halt the company. 

"Map," he ordered.

Flash pulled the map out of his uniform, and handed it over. 

"You, hold this up for me," He ordered a nearby unicorn. 

The map unfurled and held aloft in a blue field, while Sunshine considered it, and a compass he held in a hoof. Flash took the pause to check his watch- 7AM. A crisp morning, fresh from the rains of the last two days. If it wasn't for the sporadic gunfire in the distance, and the pending calamity, it would be a nice day.

The Brigadier thrust the map back at Flash. "Alright fillies, three hours untill we break. Move out!" he yelled, and all as one the thousand ponies began trudging through the forest once more.

"Y'know what I miss?" Sunshine asked.

"Yessir?" 

"The armour, we used to have those big steel sets of armour. We had to give em up, just can't make enough of it. Griffons though? They've got sets to spare," He said.

"I guess they just saw this coming, and we didn't," Flash said. "And honestly, I always thought they were a bit heavy."

Sunshine snorted. "Suit yourself, give me an earth pony and armour and I'll give you Wing's Reach."

"Yup."

_______________


Fourty Hours into Operation Bronco


The crew was rested, fed, and the fleet near the island was in position. The phoenix's were in the air, and it was time to get to work. Spitfire stood ahead of a board, a wooden replica of the island. Plastic markers marked her own ships, and their recon early in the day gave them a basic overview of the enemy fleet. They had used a hot-air balloon and a brave pony with a telescope, which was able to give them the size, and position of the enemy fleet- but no more then that. Thankfully the balloon was small enough that they hadn't seemed to notice it.

Spitfire's fleet at the moment was about a fourth of the total, they still had a coast to protect after all. The big ships though, with the big guns and missiles, those were all up front.

She took a long look at it, and started the rest of the day.

"Order the twin missile cruisers Duke and Duchess to rise a few thousand feet, and hold just long enough to fire on the enemy fleet. I don't need accuracy, I just need the griffons focusing up there. Move the gunboats up on the right, backed with the Dreadnought. Order the others to move to half way up the left flank, and hold. Keep the Pheonixes on holding pattern- watch for planes, and get our wings in the air," She ordered, as a cadet quickly shuffled the board around, and echo relayed those orders.

"Dash takes point, Dust and Fleetfoot hold back. So..."

Spitfire took a deep breath, and swallowed her emotions before continuing.

"Magnificent holds, prepare missiles and cannons for ship to ship if need be," She finished.

"Holding steady ma'am, thank Celestia the weather improved," Captain Northstar said.

"Celestia has nothing to do with it, Captain."

_______________


Fourty Hours, Thirty Minutes, into Operation Bronco


1st Seaborne marched, and it marched, and it marched. Their footing was treacherous in the deep forest, the ground dampened by the last days rains. They took solace however in the fact that at least the rain had stopped, and the gunfire in the distance had silenced. 2nd seaborne had finally routed the griffons, and were celebrating in their own barracks right now.

To pass the time, they sung. 

"Celestia's flank is mighty wide, a thousand years eatin' cake, to fight for it fills me with pride."
"We're lucky if we get hay, and it sure would help the ache, to have an alicorn in the fray."
"N- GET DOWN"

Flash didn't know who shouted it, he was too busy dropping to the dirt as something roared over them, flowed by a dozen more somethings, and the sound of gunfire crackling in the distance. 

"What the hell was that? Did they see us?!" Someone yelled.

"They couldn't have, the trees are too thick!" Flash yelled back.

Brigadier Sunshine shook the mud off himself, and came to his hooves. "Lieutenant Sentry is right! Whatever it is, it's Spitfire's problem. Company forward!" He ordered.

The marines set back forward, with only hushed conversations now. Behind them the sounds of explosions and gunfire followed them, and every once in a while you could even hear a scream.


Fourty Hours, Thirty Five Minutes, into Operation Bronco


"Ma'am, signals intelligence reports they've found the frequency they're using," Echo said.

Spitfire left the board, and came to her side. "What are they saying?" She asked.

"Well, uh... they're speaking in Saddalian," Echo replied. "It seems to be communications between the planes. If it's any use, they seem to be running out," she added.

"That doesn't make any sense, unless..." Spitfire looked out the window- their last replacement, and off in the distance the Wonderbolts fighting with those planes could be seen like specks. The griffons didn't possess the technology they had been using- their missiles came as quite a shock, but the Saddle Arabians had been in a long arms race with the Zebras.

"Have any of those planes gone down over land?" Spitfire asked.

Echo shrugged. "I don't think so, and we haven't found any pilots that's for sure," she replied.

"Alright. Tell sigint to keep looking for the griffon frequency, and get the landing craft out looking for one of those planes, we need to have a look at it," Spitfire ordered.

Echo relayed the order as Spitfire returned to the board. The fleet had managed to push up both flanks, and the missile cruisers had scored a hit on what looked like a transport ship before descending back below the safety of the mountains shadow. Their wings had adapted, and learned to out-turn the planes. They were fast, they hit hard, and they were armoured- but they couldn't pull off anywhere near the manoeuvres that ponies could. The real threat from them was the smaller missiles they each carried, two of the gunboats had been holed. 

"Order Phoenixes 4 through 6 to fly around a long circle behind the enemy fleet. Shoot anything you see back there, let's cut their supply lines," Spitfire ordered. "Get the Crazy Horse up on the right, and order the left to proceed forward until engaged."

Spitfire paused for a moment, and she stared out the window. The Magnificent had held back for safety, it was the important asset in the entire war. Losing it meant losing, full stop.

"Magnificent forward, hold ten kilometers from the beach," She ordered. 

"Recall Dash Wing, I have an idea."

_______________


Fourty Hours into Operation Bronco


2nd Seaborne has spent nearly a full day without rest fighting, inch by inch, the griffons outside their camp. They had succeeded in routing them earlier today, at a cost of nearly 20% of the force. The griffons fared far worse, the count was up into the hundreds now on their side. They seemed to have an absurd insistence on never falling back unless directly ordered, and when they ran out of ammunition they simply charged. Rifles were ranged weapons, and it was rare for one of them to succeed with this tactic. In Baltimare it had worked wonders, with them charging out of alleys or swooping out of the sky, but in an extended fire fight in the open; it was suicide. 

Equestria was adapting, the griffons weren't. 

General Pike arrived at the camp, which had been taken nearly intact. The soldiers were taking their rest, drinking and eating the spoils of war. Griffons were omnivores, but they had apparently kept a stock of fruits and vegetables as good as any other. It was a welcome change from the field rations- which amounted to little more then hay and trail mix.

Outside the camp two sentries saluted him, and the two ponies at his back split up to hang something over the wooden gate. The entire camp was surrounded by a wooden palisade, which was now breached in a dozen places. It would have to be repaired, this is where he would lead the ground campaign in this fight. 

Inside the camp he was met by a few cheers, but mostly they didn't seem to notice him. It was easy enough to spot the General- his uniform was black instead of the usual beige and green, and he wore a cap with three stars. He allowed the small disrespect, these ponies had certainly earned their relaxation. At the end of the wooden barracks was a larger building, the griffon command post. Their commander had apparently left in such a hurry that he left a good deal of top secret information behind, however it was coded, and it would be weeks before they could make sense of any of it. Spitfire was right though, their plan to strike as soon as possible was paying off- the griffons clearly hadn't expected it at all.

Pike opened the door, and inside found 2nd Seaborne's leader. BrigadierBuckshot was not somepony you messed around with, which was why he had sent her battalion into the lions den. She was at least half again his own size, and her eyes had the seemingly magic ability of finding the weakness in anypony at a moment's glance. Combine this with the brute strength of an earth pony, and you had an unstoppable combination.

"Brigadier Buckshot," Pike greeted, saluting. 

Buckshot was directly ahead, looking at some documents on a desk with two of her officers next to her. The desk had a plaque on it: Commander Flaming Glory.

"General Pike," she said, meeting his salute, and dismissing her officers with a nod.

"We're all set up in the other room, and the griffons left us a present," she said, leading Pike into an adjacent room with a large table in the centre.

Pike looked over it, a map of the island marked with a few red flags, and what looked like chess pieces near the west beach.

"Chess pieces?" Pike asked.

Buckshot shrugged. "It's all we had, the important thing is these unit markers they left- if I'm reading into this all right we managed to catch them during some sort of exercise, most of their troops were out in the jungle and without much supplies. Now.." She gestured to the far end of the map, to a long stretch of flat land- the airfield. It was marked, oddly, by a pink flag.

"Why the pink flag?" Pike wondered aloud.

"If I had to guess General? Griffons aren't the only ones with an army, what's on the other side of this ocean- past the home islands?" Buckshot asked.

Pike sat, and put his hat on the table. "Saddle Arabia."

_______________


Fourty Hours, Thirty Five Minutes, into Operation Bronco


The Magnificent hovered ten kilometers from the beach, its great hanger open for the Pheonixes to return and re-arm. Both flanks had been trading fire with the Griffon fleet, neither side committing fully yet. One of them would move, the other would fire, and they would fall back. Repeat this for an hour, and that was the situation at the moment. Spitfire had ordered breakfast served on the bridge, and a cup of coffee lay on the board before her. 

"Is Dash Wing back yet?" Spitfire asked.

The door slammed behind her.

"Yes, it is," Rainbow Dash said, and trotted around the deck glaring at Spitfire.

"Why am I here, ma'am, instead of out there?!" She demanded, gesturing at the flapping trap over the window.

Spitfire met her gaze, and stretched her legs to tower over her. "You are here, Wing Commander, because I need your wing for a plan," Spitfire said.

"Why not just use one of the other wings? I belong out there!" Rainbow argued.

"You..." Spitfire prodded her chest, "...belong wherever I say you belong, now fall in before I decide Thunderlane should lead the wing," Spitfire growled.

Rainbow opened her mouth to say something, but her professionalism managed to catch up, and she swallowed it. "Yes ma'am, what's the plan ma'am?"

"We've been doing so well thus far because the griffons haven't expected fearless aggression, I'm going to take this to the logical conclusion," She said, and moved the largest marker out to the left.

"Ma'am, we've got one of the planes now, where are we putting it?" Echo asked.

Spitfire left the board. "Drop it on the Wideflank, I'll meet them there. Wing Commander Dash- prepare your wing for engagement in two hours," Spitfire ordered.

Rainbow saluted and giddily left the room. Hubris sometimes had its advantages, she was going to be asked to lead her wing against the griffon fleet head on, so hubris was exactly what Spitfire needed. 

"Captain Northstar, you have the con. Page me if anything happens," She ordered, and quickly left the bridge. The situation was stable for now, and if anything did happen it was mostly up to the captains in the field to deal with it. 

In the hallway she could feel the ship adjust its heading, and start moving for its new position on the left flank. If this plan worked, she would be able to break the back of the griffons and cut their supply and reinforcement route.

If it didn't, she would lose the war in the second month.

_______________


Fourty  One Hours into Operation Bronco


The barge carrying the wrecked plane was similar to the landing craft, except for the balloon that kept it aloft. Roped to the bottom was a barely held together pile of metal, in the general shape of an aircraft. It looked like at one point it had been a biplane, with a two person cockpit, and mounts on the wings for weaponry. The fuselage was long enough that there was probably a place to store bombs as well.

The deck crew guided it to the end of the end of the supply ship Wideflank- named as such for the size of its flat deck, and dropped it heavily on the metal. Spitfire sighed as the plane collapsed in on itself, going from looking somewhat like a plane to just a scrap of rusted metal.

"I told you to be careful with that!" She yelled, trotting over to the wreck.

"Sorry ma'am, salvage isn't one of our talents," One of the deck crew said.

Spitfire shook her head, and took a closer look at it. The first thing that stuck out was the cockpit seats were far too small for griffons.

The second was the Saddle Arabian flag on the wing.

"Cut this wing off, and transfer it to the Magnificent. Give the rest to research and development, maybe they can learn something," Spitfire ordered.

One of the deck officers nodded, and shut the welding shield over her face. Spitfire turned away as they set to work, and took wing to return to the Magnificent. They had their smoking gun- if only she could call home. She had half a mind to just fly back to Equestria, or send a ship back, but she needed all hooves on deck right now. 

Saddle Arabians in the war, now that was a prospect. Griffons were one thing, but Saddle Arabians throwing their own force in was a horrible idea. They had a fleet, they had technology- but they also shared a border with the Zebras.

The entire world was picking sides, nopony had ever imagined anything on this scale, but then again they hadn't imagined they would be fighting a war to begin with. The only thing certain now, was that the world was going to be a very different place when this was all over.

_______________


Fourty Three Hours into Operation Bronco


11 AM on the 28th of August, and it was do or die. Spitfire was at her seat behind the helm of the Magnificent, while Dash Wing stood ready inside the hold. Her plan was to turn the ship backwards, and launch them using the ship itself to protect them while they got up to speed. The other wings were on the right flank, and they would catch the griffon fleet in a crossfire. Duke and Duchess would repeat their mission from earlier, hopefully timed with the arrival of each flank.

"Echo, give me fleetwide," Spitfire ordered. Echo flipped a switch, and a green light on Spitfire's seat flickered on.

"Wonderbolt Fleet, this is Air Martial Spitfire. A thousand years ago this great institution was created with one purpose- to defend Equestria. For a thousand years brave ponies had stood ready, and over the last few months we have been the ones fated to fulfill that original promise. Today we're going to give it our all, this is do or die. There will be no retreat, and no surrender. We go now, we go hard, and there's no alicorns waiting to save us. Equestria is counting on you, now let's send these griffons to the bottom of the ocean," She said, and then gestured across her neck to cut the connection.

She took a deep breath, and then shouted "Commit the fleet, engage targets of opportunity as they appear!" 

"Aye aye!" The crew replied, as they set to the tasks. The tarp had been removed, and outside the window a mirror had been hastily hung so they could see behind them, but it didn't matter much what they could or couldn't see, the die had been cast and it was up to the crew and gunners now. 

"Order the Duke and Duchess to go for broke, I don't want them falling back until they've run out of missiles!" Spitfire ordered.

"Right flank reports contact, looks like a half dozen gunboats were waiting for them," Echo said.

"That leaves the destroyers and corvettes for us, keep a tight formation- smaller ships behind us, we'll take the first barrage and they'll fan out from behind us with Dash Wing," Spitfire said.

"We'll uh... take the first barrage?" Northstar asked.

"Captain, we've got enough steel plating this thing to make an entire new fleet, we can take a few hits," Spitfire replied.

"I hope," She quietly muttered, tapping the armrest of her chair.

"Here we go, forward batteries will crest the island in... 3."

2

1

The bridge was immediately rocked as the batteries shot off their pony sized payloads, hopefully hitting something.

"Launch Dash Wing, order the fleet to split up and engage at will!" Spitfire shouted. 

A huge explosion from somewhere behind them marked the ship absorbing a blow. 

"Northstar, fly us around the Griffon force on a wide vector, we'll cross right over to the other flank!" She ordered.

"Aye Aye!" She said, gripping the wheel hard. 

The side batteries came to life, giving their own power to the fight while the other ships came out from behind their protective superior, and the outside became a chaotic cloud of ships firing at eachother, the griffons being hit from all sides, surrounded by ponies raining down death.

"D..." A deafening explosion from somewhere above them shook the bridge, interrupting Echo,

"Duke has been forced down, Duchess is pulling back," She repeated.

"I've got fires on decks two and four, they've holed us- but we're fine," Stiff Wing said, as a series of lights on his board started flashing. 

Outside there was another massive explosion, and the sound of debris raining against the hull of the Magnificent sounded throughout like some horrible metal rain.

"That was the Sun Dog, observers report all hooves lost," Echo said.

Spitfire cursed, and the side batteries fired again. "What abo-"

The ship quaked with such force that she was thrown out of her chair, a deafening explosion from behind them tearing through the side, pouring out smoke.

"Damage report!" Spitfire yelled, thankfully noting the bridge crew wasn't injured.

"That was the second starboard magazine, it took a direct hit, but the damage is contained," Swift said, and turned from his board.

"We're wounded Spitfire, but it'll take a lot more to stop us," He added.

Spitfire looked over to Echo. "Echo, tell me some good news!" 

"We've destroyed or damaged nearly the entire griffon force, and their landing party has run into the jungle. It's working," She said.

"No sign of those planes?" Spitfire asked.

"Phoenix's caught them over the island, you can consider that threat neutralized," Echo replied.

Spitfire sighed, and laid her head back in the chair. "Mop up here, we've scored a major victory," She said.

"Aye Aye, must've been a hell of a sight from the ground," Northstar said.

_______________


Fourty Five Hours into Operation Bronco


1st Seaborne crossed into a clearing, the peak of the central mountain island to their right side. They had quite a show for the last few hours, having come high enough for a fantastic view of the fight taking place 30 kilometres to their east. The Magnificent was clearly visible, belching smoke from its side. Every few minutes the great guns lit up, and a few seconds later an explosion echoed across the island. The effect on morale was huge, and the fact that they had a fleet, but the griffons didn't anymore, brightened everyone's day.

Brigadier Sunshine shot a hoof up, and Flash handed him the map. The unicorn on his other side held it in front, a ritual perfected through the last few hours to a silent art.

"Good news everyone, we're ahead of schedule! Get a perimeter up a hundred meters from the east treeline, and dig in!" He shouted.

The rest of the company moved forward past them to carry out the order, while Sunshine took the phone off Flash's back.

"Base? This is Brigadier Sunshine, over."

Flash couldn't hear what was on the other end, but he sure tried. If only his ear could turn backwards...

"We've reached our waypoint... Prime Company and the rest yes... You're sure? Well, I suppose it's our turn then," He said, and returned the phone to its place.

"Shoulda joined the fourth," He muttered, and turned to yell down the field.

"We just got new orders everypony, get some rest- we're moving at 0300 tomorrow morning!" He shouted.

The field was filled with groans of complaint, but they didn't stop in their work. 

Flash followed Sunshine into the field, spotting his company at the far end erecting a tent.

"Where are going sir?" Flash asked.

"Pike wants that airfield taken, apparently Wonderbolt recon saw the rest of the griffons heading that way. Everybody except the 2nd is going to head for it- and we're going to be on point," Sunshine replied. 

"What if we end up stuck in the middle of both forces?" Flash asked.

Pike paused, and looked back at him. "Then we're up a creek."

_______________


Fourty Eight Hours into Operation Bronco


Spitfire strode along the deck of the Magnificent, taking note of the damage she had sustained. The worst was the gaping hole where the second starboard cannon used to be, and elsewhere a dozen more holes left a few decks open to air. They had lost a dozen crew members and many more were injured, but they had taken victory on the field. 

She walked past an earth pony engineer- one of many they had now- putting out a small fire, and looked off the side towards the island.

Down below, about a kilometre away, was a beach. It was littered with a dozen destroyed griffon airships, uncontrolled fires raging all around and filling the sky with a black smoke. Hundreds of griffon soldiers had gone to their doom down there, along with a significant amount of supplies. They had the island surrounded now, and cut off any hope of reinforcement or resupply. A large force had gotten into the jungle though, and the marines would have to deal with it before they could declare victory. 

Beside her a grey coated unicorn mare had appeared, and cleared her throat to get the Air Martial's attention.

Spitfire looked her over, Leftenant Tulle Gras, volunteered to be reassigned to the Magnificent from 48th Medical in Canterlot- a few days after Black Friday.

"What is it Leftenant?" Spitfire asked.

"That changeling that went code green passed physical and mental evaluation ma'am. I think he can do fine, so long as we keep him out of direct combat. I just need your signature on the release," She replied.

Spitfire took the clipboard from her and scanned over it. "Fang" had apparently been cleared, but there was a note that he seemed to greatly fear death, to the point of mental collapse. Perfectly understandable, especially considering how young he seemed to be. She took a pen from her jacket pocket, and signed off it. In the "Reassignment" box she wrote "Signals".

She gave the clipboard back to Tulle. "Signals ma'am? Seems perfect," She said.

Spitfire nodded. "I want another mental evaluation in a week, I've got a funny feeling about this one Lieutenant."

"Yes ma'am," Tulle said, and then saluted before departing.

Spitfire turned back to the island. The Wonderbolt's job was done, it was all about the Marines on the ground now. They could support them, bomb targets and keep eyes on griffon movements, but they would be doing the heavy lifting. 

Leaning over the edge, she saw a few of the retro-fitted landing craft looking through the debris for anything useful. Their primary salvage mission was technology, anything that pointed to griffons long term plans, or any more proof of Saddle Arabian involvement.

Looking at them, and then one of the barges still attached to its balloons, and then to the ground, she had an idea.

"Who says Marine's can't fly?"

_______________


Fifty Hours into Operation Bronco


Flash checked his watch, 6PM. Knowing that they were due out in only 9 hours the company had left most of the gear stowed, and since the weather was so nice they would sleep out under the stars. With the sun setting, and painting the island a deep orange as it shon through the smoky haze wafting in from today's fighting in the east, he and his friends sat together eating their rations. A small fire, one of many in the field, kept them warm. 

Flash, being a lieutenant, had a single apple with his trailmix. 

"Lucky," Mary said. 

Big Mac lay across from them, and eyed it hungrily. Fearing his existence, Flash quickly removed the tempation.

"Hey," Flash said through a mouth full of apple, "atleast you still have all four legs." 

Mary frowned at her bag of trail mix. "I don't think it's worth it," She said.

"Nope."

Flash swallowed, and then frowned when he realized that was the last apple he was probably going to see for a while. 

"You will tomorrow, believe me getting this thing stick in mud isn't very fun," Flash said, spinning the squeaky wheel of his prosthetic.

Mary laughed. "Still trade it for an apple, although I guess it's too late now," She said. 

"How did you lose it anyway?" She asked.

Flash sighed, and lay back in the grass as he continued spinning the wheel. 

"I lost it in Manehatten, lucky to be alive probably. I was in Downtown Manehatten when the bombs went off, myself and a changeling I met. I don't think I would be alive if not for him," Flash said.

"A changeling? I thought they were all.. shifty. If I had to guess, this 'alliance' is a sham and Celestia just wants to 'keep her enemies close', as it were," Mary said.

"Yep," 

Flash sighed. "I dunno, this one wasn't like that. He can't shapeshift, and we were together until yesterday. He actually followed me out here, and volunteered to go to Baltimare," Flash said.

"Really? I haven't seen any changelings around, I don't suppose he..." Mary left the conclusion hanging.

Flash shook his head. "Nah, he 'code greened' before we deployed. He's still on the Magnificent as far as I know, wish I knew he was okay," he said.

"If he code greened, he's probably heading home. Y'know what I like to call the code greens?" Mary asked.

"What?" Flash returned.

"The sane ones," She replied.


_______________


Friday, August 29th, 1001.
Equestrian Marine Corps Status: 20006 Operational, 156 Injured, 926 KIA or MIA


Wonderbolts Status: 6 Capital ships, 23 frigates, 34 corvettes. 14 lost.


Weather: Clear skies, visibility perfect.


Sixty Four Hours into Operation Bronco


Another day, another updated board. The weather looked to be perfect for the foreseeable future, and the fleet had the island locked down. As soon as Spitfire had awoken she had ordered shore bombardment to continue, they probably weren't hitting much without proper targets, but it was bound to hurt enemy morale.


DASH WING: 752 CONFIRMED, 27 UNCONFIRMED, 20 LOST
DUST WING: 467 CONFIRMED, 65 UNCONFIRMED, 22 LOST
SOARIN WING: MAY WE NEVER FORGET
FLEETFOOT WING: 332 CONFIRMED 0 UNCONFIRMED, 16 LOST


FLEET SCORE: 7 CAPITAL, 10 FRIGATE, 37 TRANSPORT, 56 FIXED WING, 874 LOST


Spitfire had broken from protocol and ordered that loss numbers be posted on the kill sheet. There was no point trying to hide it now, she could only hope that the loses were worth it. Yesterday had cost them the Sun Dog, the Crazy Horse, the Duke, and a few gunboats with only numerical designations: G-35, G-74, G-55, and G-45. The griffons, however, had lost a hell of a lot more. The final tally was 560 of them on the beach, with an unknown number more hidden below the waves in wrecked ships. It was like their command had no concern for their lives, they were throwing away people by the hundred. 

"Griffons might not care about their soldiers," Spitfire said, and turned to her bridge crew.

"But we do. The marines down there are riding into hell today, and we're going to everything we can to help them. Gunships on air cover, wings on recon, we're going to pin those bastards to the ground and hammer on them until they surrender," she said.

"Yes Ma'am!" The crew saluted, and took their positions. Spitfire followed Echo to her communications board, time to try again.

"Contact Canterlot, again," Spitfire ordered. Echo nodded, and flicked a switch. She seemed worried as she handed the headset to Spitfire, warily eyeing the dozen dials.

"Canterlot this is Wonderbolt Actual, come on," Spitfire said, looking out the window. If only she could actually see what was going at home.

"I thought I told you to shut up?" Archer said.

"Who the hell... you again? How about I come over there and jam a Phoenix up your ass!" Spitfire threatened.

"Good luck, we've got more missiles then you do- all lined up on coast, idiot," Archer said.

Another burst of static forced Spitfire to tear the headset off, She managed to stop herself from slamming the deck, and instead just screamed frustrated at the window.

"I am going to kill that jackass!"

_______________


Sixty Four Hours into Operation Bronco


Flash checked his watch- 8AM. They had been trotting for five hours. The break of dawn had been beauitful, the sun rose over the east reflecting off the ocean, lighting the trees. From where they were on the mountain the ocean was visible in the distance down hill, at some point last night they had crossed over from the west side to the east, the peak of the mountain now to their backs in the north.

Birds were singling, and it was too late in the season for mosquitoes- a beautiful crisp early-autumn day. Except for, y'know, the fact they were on point to assault the enemy.

Flash trotted beside Brigadier Sunshine as usual, but he had used his officers privilege to 'lighten the load' a few hours ago. Private Rona Excavo carried the radio pack, Flash himself only keeping the map. She was a capable enough unicorn, and considering he was a pegasus with only three legs he didn't feel too bad about it.

The mood throughout the group was... low. They had the easy beach, now it was time take the hard job. Like geese in flight, they cycled out to keep one unit from getting exhausted. 2nd Seaborne had fought for nearly a day straight, and was taking it easy.

"So Private Excavo, you're a newer volunteer, what made you sign up?" Flash asked the mare beside him.

"My brother was a reservist, I signed up a bit after the war started. Didn't get to Baltimare before the griffons got him," She replied.

Flash was forced to halt as his prosthetic caught in something, and painfully tugged at his upper leg. The wheel had long since become totally useless, rusted and caked with mud.

"That's..." He struggled to pull the thing out, stuck in what looked like a gopher hole. "... too bad, I'm sorry for you," he finished.

Flash grunted as he tried to pull the damn thing out of the hole, it was in good. Just as he was about to give up, and undo the clamps, a blue field took it and with seemingly no effort it slid out of the hole- looking like the day it was made.

The wheel even spun.

Flash glanced back, and Private Excavo stood behind him. "Don't mention it, we weren't too close. I was surprised he had the guts to sign up at all, so I figured if he did- I've got no reason not to," she said.

Flash smiled, and they came back to their positions. "I suppose that's as good a reason as any," he said.

"What about you, Lieutenant? I heard your name in the news a while back, something about the Empire," she asked.

Flash sighed. "I signed up to be a hero, turns out it's not the person- it's the organization," he said. 

"That's not really an answer," Excavo pressed.

"Screwed up as a Wonderbolt, so I signed up for the Imperial Legion. Screwed up as an Imperial Legionnaire, so I signed up as a guard. Screwed up as a guard, Lost a leg, stopped being full of myself. Signed up for the Marines, stopped screwing up," Flash said.

"Happy?"

"Happy."

For another hour they went on, mostly in silence. Ever few minutes Brigadier Sunshine checked the map, they were getting eerily close to the position marked as PROBABLE CONTACT, a big red square that surrounded the airfield for about a dozen kilometres in each direction. The other units were closing on it too, but 1st was going to enter the red ahead of them. 

For another hour, they went on. At the end of that hour Sunshine once again checked the map, and halted the column as he handed it back.

"Weapons ready! We're in the red now everypony!" He ordered, and all around the sounds of guns being checked filled the forest, while Sunshine radioed home to report. 

"Contact!" Someone shouted, and a hundred griffons charged through the brush. 

Flash hit the dirt, firing blindly with his sidearm. He wasn't sure what he was shooting at, but by Celestia he was shooting it. Everyone else was doing the same, the deafening sound of hundreds of rifles and other arms sending their rounds cracking through the air at whatever their holders thought was an enemy. Trees exploded on both sides, covering the ground- and Flash- in timbers.

He saw a shadow in the bush, and shot it. He glanced around for another, and shot that one too.

He saw another, which exploded into smoke and tree as Big Mac fired the big gun over that way, snapping a tree cleanly in half and sending it to the ground. 

Another, and Flash pointed his weapon, and pulled the trigger for the sixth time.

Click.

This wasn't a shadow, and there was a griffon charging through through the trees, a fire in his eyes as he bared down on him. 

Click. clickclickclick.

Flash closed his eyes, and accepted it. 

Silence fell over everything, and to his surprise he opened his eyes. The forest was filled with the smoke wafting from a thousand guns, and the stench of gunpowder- and his own sweat- stung his nostrils. Two feet ahead, a griffon had met his end, claws outstretched as if he was in the middle of lunging.

He glanced to his side, and Big Mac gave a sagely nod before he released the spent magazine of his hulking gun, letting it crashing to the ground into a pile of spent cartridges.

"Is that it?" Flash wondered aloud, as he inserted fresh rounds into his own weapons magazine.

"Probably just caught a patrol with their pants down, it's going to get bad from here," Sunshine said, and stood to shout an order.

"Dig in everyone. I want a ten meter wide clearing in front of us! Overlapping lines of fire, you know the drill!" Sunshine ordered.

Flash grabbed a shovel from Excavo's pack, but before he could even start digging a dozen foxholes had already materialized, along with a trench and a basic dirt fortification. He looked at her with awestruck wonder.

She shrugged. "Runs in the family," she said, and went down the line making holes as she went. 

"Who says we need Celestia?" Flash said to himself.

_______________


Sixty Four Hours into Operation Bronco


General Pike left the board, units were converging on the airfield and 1st had reported contact. A private had beckoned him into the radio room, apparently Spitfire had an idea.

Inside he nodded to the signaller, and Spitfire was put on the speaker.

"General Pike? Air Martial Spitfire, are you reading me?" She asked.

"Loud and clear, now what's this idea of yours?" He returned.

"Remember those landing craft? Who says they have to land on water? We could shove an entire battalion right up their ass and they don't have the firepower to crack that armour," Spitfire said.

Pike thought about it for a moment. It was risky as hell, but throwing an entire battalion right in the middle of the airfield would crack the griffons right open, and was bound to be far less bloody then slowly pounding on them. Gunships had been doing runs, but griffon light rockets made them stay too high to do much of use, and Wonderbolts risked getting torn up by ground fire. The Magnificent's cannons were definitely having an effect, but they were quickly running out of shells. The Pheonixes already had, and weren't very accurate int their bombing. They hadn't had long to prepare for this war, after all.

"I'll form a battalion out of elite companies, give you a call when we're ready," Pike said.

"We'll get it r-" Pike cringed, as an intense burst of static shot out of the speaker.

A few seconds later he heard an explosion echo across the island. 


Sixty Four Hours, Ten Minutes, into Operation Bronco


Spitfire pulled herself up by her chair, pressing on a gash in her arm. She had been tossed from it like a rag doll, hitting the control panel rather hard. She was sore, bruised, and it pained her to even breathe.

"Damage report!" She ordered, looking for any serious injuries.

"W.." Stiff coughed, the bridge was filling with smoke at an alarming rate. "We've lost all engines, we're dead in the air!" He shouted. 

Spitfire glanced out the window, the sea was clear- and there was no possible ground threat.

"What the.." She coughed. "Evacuate the bridge!" She ordered, and fell back to make sure they all got out. Northstar was limping, and looked like she had a broken leg. Spitfire came to her side and helped her outside, sealing the door once they had all escaped.

"What the hell was that?" She asked, her crew coughing and checking themselves over in the corridor.

"I don't know, there was no contact, the engines just... exploded," Stiff said, and then howled with pain as he cracked his shoulder back in place. 

"Well go find out," Spitfire ordered, and took her hoof off to get a better look at her arm. Her uniform was soaked with blood, and there was a deep, painful, wound- which spat blood at her as soon as she released it.

"Celestia help us, Spitfire!" Someone yelled, Spitfire wasn't sure who.

"C..call a me.."

She fell against the wall, and slid down leaving a long bloody trail. Before she hit the floor, darkness overtook her.

_______________


Seventy Hours into Operation Bronco


The whole unit was on edge, Flash especially so. A half dozen hours ago they had received a cryptic message from basecamp, General Pike informing them that contact with the Magnificent had been lost. This was after they had heard a huge explosion. They couldn't actually see anything, but the amount of smoke visible in the sky did not paint a pretty picture. 

Flash had a rifle now, and in a fox hole his rank was meaningless, his company meaningless, he was just a pony with a gun. A mile long line of them stretched into the distance, with around a third of the fox holes having been dug by Rona Excavo.

Corporal Excavo now, Sunshine was rather impressed with her efforts. She was in the next fox hole, the radio gear stowed a ways back in a tent. Brigadier Sunshine was managing it personally now, things were getting heated with the other companies. Every few minutes on of them would be attacked, and the reply was a dozen or so mortars into the forest. The idea that they might have lost their fleet support was scaring the hell out of everyone, and the Wonderbolts hadn't been seen or heard from in hours- although they couldn't do much good in the thick forest anyway.

"Contact!" Someone to the side yelled.

Flash squinted through the sights, and sure enough the gleam of griffon armour was visible in the jungle. 

"Position 27, call fire!" Flash shouted back towards the communications tent, a pony nodded and ducked inside just before the company began firing into the forest. 


Flash fired, and managed to hit a griffon, but the shot just bounced off the armour. He cursed, and ran the bolt of his rifle to fire again. Before he could a volley of return fire forced him to duck into his fox hole, dirt flying into the air all around. The amount of noise coming from all around was amazing.

"Man, since when the hell did ponies get shot at?!" He yelled to nobody in particular, and swung his rifle back over the dirt wall.

"The hell happened to Pax Equestria!" He yelled again, firing another round down. 

"We aren't in Equestria any more, didn't you get the memo!?" Excavo shouted, ducking down to reload her own magazine.

Flash ducked to avoid another hail of bullets. "Excavo, you got any grenades?" He asked.

She laughed. "Kidding me? We all ran out hours ago," She replied, and swung back over to resume shooting.

Flash did too, but only peaked over for a moment before the opposing treelike exploded as mortars began falling like explosive rain. After a half minute, silence fell once more. The forest that had a few hours ago been pristine natural beauty was now a hole, trench, and body filled wasteland. Everywhere you looked wood chips, spent rounds, and other things littered the ground, and most of the grass was either burnt, covered by dirt, or cratered by explosives.

At least it was warm today.

Flash sat back in his hole, they were safe for at least another half hour. As soon as their fight ended, another could be heard starting down the line.

"Hey Lieutenant?" Excavo addressed.

"Yeah?" Flash returned, looking over as he sat back and opened his bag of trail mix.

"Why are we so good at this?" She asked.

Flash had to consider that for a second. It was a logical enough question- Equestria had gone from basically nothing to mounting an assault landing in, what, three months? He was even surprised at how well he was handling it himself, they all had been trained how to use rifles, and fire mortars, and all that- but none of them ever expected to use that knowledge. The Guard was supposed to stand around with crossbows, and maybe every once and a while fight timberwolves. Anything heavier was dealt with by alicorns, alicorn proteges, or magic.

"I honestly don't know, I guess we've just learned to adapt. We're were all trained for this, even if we never expected to actually do it. I think most of the training stuff comes from the Zebras, they were always really good at..." Flash paused, and gestured around himself.

"This," he said.

Excavo nodded. "I suppose you're right. Corner a pony, and you get a lion," She said.

_______________


Seventy Two Hours into Operation Bronco


General Pike sat in their new command post, in the radio room while he waited for some sign the Wonderbolts still existed. While he waited, he went through the files for his units. 4th Seaborne seemed to have a good balance, but no elite units, so it was going to be folded into the others from where he took what he pleased. Brigadier Buckshot sat beside him, at a desk that had one point been the griffon commanders. They didn't seem to have a fine eye for detail, it was more or less just a wooden rectangle with a slot for a chair and a few drawers. 

Too bad he seemed to have taken most of the important documents, although they did find some cryptic references to House Arkavo and a food shortage. SIGINT was going to have a field day... if they still existed.

"Alright. Logisitics from the 2nd, Medical from the first, combat units from the 2nd and 1st.... what about signals?" Pike wondered.

"We need a sharpshooter for the rapid response squad too, who's got the best scores out there?" He asked.

Buckshot rifled through some papers, and handed one over. "Sergeant Sentry, field promoted to lieutenant a day ago," She replied.

Pike read it over. Wonderbolt, ex-wonderbolt. Wounded in Manehatten, above-average abilities to handle stress in combat, which made him a heck of a prize in a signals tent. His marksmanship in the Wonderbolt Academy was amazing, assuming this carried through with a rifle he could knock a bottle cap out of the air at a hundred yards.

"He'll do, bring him over with his signals unit and we're all set," Pike said, marking this down on a paper ahead of him.

"Sunshine isn't going to be happy to abandon his unit sir, I sure as hell wouldn't be," Buckshot noted.

"Yeah well, who's in charge?" Pike said, and leaned back to look over to the signaller still trying to raise the fleet.

"Any luck?" He asked.

"No, but I think I found the griffon frequency," He replied.

Pike quickly swung out of his chair and put on the spare headset.

"Qu'aucune cession, aucun déshonneur... Qu'aucune cession, aucun déshonneur... Qu'aucune cession, aucun déshonneur..." he heard through the headset, staticy but definitely griffon. 

"It just repeats?" Pike asked, and set the set back down.

"Yessir, it translates to 'No surrender, no dishonor- I think," the radio pony said.

"Well that-" Pike shut up as the pony shot a hoof in the air, and then sat back in his chair with a relieved sigh.

"It's the fleet sir, they're all right," he said.

Pike was so taken by relief he kissed the stallion on the head, and none spoke of it ever again.

_______________


Seventy Three Hours into Operation Bronco


Captain Northstar walked through the rows upon rows of injured in the Magnificent's infirmary. Dozens of injured engineers, mostly from burns and shrapnel when the bombs went off in the rear five propellers, leaving her unable to move. Another set had blown into the transmission tower, but these were poorly planted enough that repairs only took a few hours. Thankfully there had been no real damage beyond the propellers finding themselves at the bottom of the sea.

Northstar herself had broken her left leg, and now wore a splint over it. She was one of the luckier ones.

She approached the end of the line, where a shrouded bed was constantly watched over by the head doctor, and two military police.

"Doctor Tulle, is she awake?" Northstar asked.

"Surprisingly, yes. I have no idea how she manages the pain- she's refused any medication. The arm should be fine, but she won't be able to use it for a few weeks- she's lucky," Tulle said, and stepped aside.

Northstar pulled aside the blinds, and quickly closed them after herself. Spitfire lay on the bed, her arm covered in bandages, and a good amount of red soaked into the bedsheets. A bag full of blood was connected into her arm, while another series of bags collected her bodies waste and fed her. Spitfire was not going anywhere soon.

She tried to get up, but her body wasn't having it.

"Don't be stupid Spitfire, you've got to rest," Northstar said.

"Who put you in charge?" Spitfire asked, her voice weak.

"Regulations did, you're in no condition to go anywhere ma'am," Northstar replied, sitting by her commanders side.

"Y'know, the crew isn't going to think any less of you if you take some painkillers, that can't possibly be comfortable," She noted.

Spitfire groaned. "It hurts, it hurts bad, but that's how I know I'm still alive. If it ever stops hurting, then I'll be worried," She said.

"Northstar, General Pike has a plan to end this so we can get back home and figure out what the hell is going on back there. I need you to work with him and follow through, he'll have all the details," She added, her voice slowly decreasing in volume.

"I'll get it done," Northstar said, and with a weak nod Spitfire gave into sleep.

Northstar pulled the covers over her, before leaving the shrouded bed.

"Is that bat still in the brig?" She asked one of the MPs.

"No ma'am, that's why we're here- she's loose," The MP replied.

Northstar nodded. "Rotating guard then, full alert, you know the drill," she ordered.

"Yes ma'am, we've got people looking for her- but we think she went to ground," He said.

Northstar saluted, and left them to their guard. As she strode down the hall outside towards the surface deck, she wondered what Spitfire could mean by 'a plan'. In the end it didn't matter what it was, Northstar only hoped she would prove as capable as Spitfire, the world was on her shoulder now.

_______________


Seventy Four Hours into Operation Bronco


1st Seaborne was starting to get close to exhaustion, but to their massive relief the 4th had arrived to relieve them. It had been a long, long, day for the stallions and mares of the 1st, nearly constant fighting since they had arrived a half day ago. Flash left his foxhole, a member of the 4th replacing him, and with his legs like rubber he eagerly wobbled away, thankful to be done with that nightmare- for now. Rona Excavo took his side as they trotted away from the line, into the clearing of tents a few dozen meters behind a second line of trenches.

Interestingly there was an airship parked, and a few dozen ponies- he recognized Big Mac and Mary Frosthorn in particular- were boarding it.

"Sentry!" Brigadier Sunshine shouted, standing before the line of marines boarding the ship.

Flash hurried over with Rona at his tail. "Yessir?" He asked, saluting as he came to a halt.

"New orders Sentry, we're on our way back to the Magnificent," Sunshine explained, and gestured to the waiting craft.

"What about the rest of the 1st sir?" Flash asked.

"Don't worry about them, that's none of our concern now. You'll be happy to hear we're taking 1st Signals with us though, you get to keep your job," Sunshine replied.

Rona seemed greatly relieved by that, and trotted past to board the ship.

Sunshine turned to do so as well, Flash once again at his side. 

"So, what are our new orders sir?" Flash asked.

Sunshine grinned back at him. "Welcome to 1st Airborne."

Once they had boarded, Flash found his friends- Mary and Big Mac- sitting together near the rear. They had a bag of carrots, which Flash had heard were long since gone, and he sat with them to help make that a truth.

"So lieutenant, you hear? They're pulling the 'elite' from all the batallions for this new unit," Mary said, through a mouth full of carrot.

"We're elite." 

Flash shoved a few in his mouth, and quickly devoured them before bothering to reply. "Apparently. I wonder why they're pulling this together, we've got the griffons on the ropes- why mess with the lines like this?" Flash asked.

Mary shrugged. "To open up a new line, why else? He called us the 'airborne', I wonder if that means we'll be dropping out of the sky," She said.

Flash grinned wide with astonishment and glee as he figured it out. "Mary, the landing craft- who said they had to land on water?" 

Mary met his smile. "Oh, they'll write about this in the history books!" 

"Yep."

_______________


Seventy Five Hours into Operation Bronco


Captain Northstar, now leader of the Wonderbolt Fleet itself, waited on the flight deck of the Magnificent for the arrival of the '1st airborne'. Pike had briefed her on his plan, having arrived a few minutes ago. He stood at her side, the sun shining down on them through one of many, many, holes in the armoured deck covering. It seemed to her now that it was a rather large waste to have all that steel there. The original idea was apparently to make the enemy think it was an air balloon so they would waste ammunition on it, while also concealing the fact they had planes inside, but that cat was long out of the bag.

Those planes had been pushed to the back, and in their place a dozen landing craft were being hastily modified. The propellers were removed, and each had a rotary gun salvaged from one of the lost gunships sticking out of the top. Steel that had been salvaged was being welded to the bottom to protect against groundfire. Engineering didn't have the parts to keep them mobile once they landed- the tiny wheels would only be able to get them out of the hanger.They didn't have time to construct any dedicated platforms, but they would certainly have some designs for home to consider.

Home... what was going on at home? Something terrible probably, but they had to win this battle before they could fight that one. If there was a fight to be fought, they better be ready for the whirlwind. Nopony in Equestria's history had gone through what they had out here, and they would drop all that experience right on their heads.

The first ship, a yacht that had probably seen use by some aristocrat- The Blueblood- was the first in the bay. Its balloon couldn't fit inside, so it extended a ramp and hovered at the end- another reason to remove the roof. She and Pike waited for the troops to line up before them, a hundred of their finest soldiers, with their support companies on the way. Northstar took a good luck at them, and was delighted to see her son on the front line. He was bruised, dirty, and his uniform had more tears then there was uniform left- but he was here. The rest of them didn't look much better come to think of it, and she felt a slight pang of guilt that they had it so easy up here.

"Company halt!" The pony leading them shouted, and they did so behind him. Northstar had never been as proud of her son as she was at that moment. Flash Sentry was elite, so much so that he had been personally chosen for this mission.

"1st airborne reporting for duty!" Brigadier Sunshine shouted.

"At ease," Pike said. Northstar nodded at her son, front just behind the Brigadier.

"You hundred.." Pike stepped forward, inspecting his troops. "... have been chosen because not only have you proven yourselves exceptionally over the last few days..." he paused, looking over a red earth pony that seemed more like a mountain then a stallion. "... but also because your days in training suggests you have specific skills that elevate you above and beyond the rest. Over the next two days you are going to train those skills, and we are going to drop you straight into the lions den," He said, and returned to the front of the line.

"You are going to kill the lion, is that understood?" 

"Yes sir!" They shouted, as one organism.

"Dismissed! Get some rest, training begins at 0600 sharp, Brigadier Sunshine will give you assignments," Pike ordered.

The ponies ambled off, and Northstar glanced to Pike looking for approval. He nodded, and she quickly took her sons side.

"Flash..." She said, holding back tears as she took his bruised hoof.

Flash smiled, happy beyond words to see his mother.

"M-" 

She embraced him tight before he could speak, and the whole room was uplifted by the scene.

After a few minutes they left, and took dinner in the cafeteria. Flash was surprised the ship managed to keep itself together, debris was everything and it seemed like every second crewmember was bruised, or had a broken limb, or was otherwise injured. He didn't feel too bad though, they had the refrigerators- which meant they had the cold drinks and fresh vegetables. Their dinner was a fine change from the trail mix they had down on the island. Strangely there were MPs everywhere, and all of them were armed.

Flash sat across from his mother in the cafeteria, busy with the arrival of the tired, hungry, airborne.

"What's with all the security?" Flash asked.

"We've got a traitor around, first she tried to blow up our planes- and now she's blown up our engines," Northstar replied. 

"I think I heard something about that, you're telling me this traitor is loose?" Flash asked, sticking a fork into a potato, with vigour.

Northstar reached across, and put a hoof over her sons. "Don't worry about it, you've got enough on your plate as it is," She said.

Flash relaxed, and slouched into his chair. 

"I missed you mom, it's been a long few days,"

Northstar smiled, and through sheer willpower held back tears.

"I missed you too Flash, and Flash?"

"Yeah?"

"I'm proud of you."

_______________


Seventy Six Hours into Operation Bronco


Flash took some time to get a new uniform (machine stitched, to his great chagrin), and now he stood outside the signals building, which was at the rear of the great ship. It had apparently seen better days, with most of the windows having been blown out, and tarps fluttering in the wind as makeshift coverings. The radio tower had too, it was held up by rope, and by the looks of it no small amount of prayer. A whole dozen MPs surrounded it, armed to the teeth.

Flash took a deep breath, and opened the door. Before he could react a black blur flew at him, and he was thrown to the ground by the force of a very happy changeling hugging him.

"Flash!" Fang exclaimed, clutching his mentor tight.

"Fang, how's it going buddy?" Flash asked, smiling as he lifted the short changeling off himself. He had a uniform now, and a privates patch too. Fang was a proper Marine.

"It's great, they've got me helping with the radios!" Fang said giddily, and eagerly pulled his friend along into the next room. The frazzled signallers, having been through hell in the last few days, paused in their work and smiled. Fang was quickly becoming their mascot. 

"See, look at this," Fang said, and plopped himself in a chair -which had been cut to size for him, before a radio panel.

"I'm helping DJ 92.5 Wonderbolt FM, as soon as we actually get some time to spare- things keep exploding around here," Fang said.

Flash took a quick look around. Most of the equipment looked fried, and there was a stack of barely recognizable radio parts in the corner. Somebody had gone through a lot of effort to try and stop communications.

"I've noticed, I guess nobodies been able to get a break," Flash said, and pulled a chair over for himself.

Flash patted his head, and pulled him towards so he could look into his eyes. 

"Really now, you're okay?" He asked.

Fang blinked. Good luck trying to get a read on somebody with no pupils.

"I am, really," He said, putting a hoof to Flash's shoulder.

"Don't worry about me Flash, you're the one that has to go..." He shuddered, and gestured towards a barely-covered window.

"...back there."

Flash smirked. "Don't you worry either, I can handle myself," Flash said, and checked his watch. 8PM, he had been awake for nearly... 15 hours. 

Realizing that, his body suddenly remembered that sleep was a thing it needed, and that it had done a lot today. Flash yawned, and patted his friends furry head.

"I'll see you later buddy, this pony needs some sleep," Flash said, and departed. Fang watched him go, and then turned back to his board. 


_______________


Eighty Six Hours into Operation Bronco


Captain Northstar got up at 6AM sharp, the drills General Pike had scheduled had seen to that. A lot of noise got his stallions up ten minutes ago. After checking up on Spitfire, finding her sound asleep- thankfully, she deserved that much- Northstar arrived at the bridge with the rest of her groggy crewmates. and updated the board as she did every morning.

"Echo, you got the latest casualty and kill lists?" Northstar asked.

Echo nodded, and got up from the comm board to deliver a clipboard. Every morning they had done this before Spitfire arrived, every morning they had to increase the numbers. At first it was horrifying, but by now they did it with a professional numbness. First she updated the date, it was Saturday.

Nobody cared, war didn't take weekends off.



Saturday, August 30th, 1001.
Equestrian Marine Corps Status: 20006 Operational, 156 Injured, 926 KIA or MIA


Wonderbolts Status: 6 Capital ships, 23 frigates, 34 corvettes. 14 lost.


Weather: Clear skies, visibility perfect.


Eighty Six Hours into Operation Bronco


She glanced up at the clock above it, and was shocked by what it read.

	Damn, we've only been at this for eighty six hours?!

Collecting herself, Northstar checked the board- another hundred marines dead last night, another hundred injured. Another hundred returned to active duty, so that balanced it out. Nice even numbers.


Equestrian Marine Corps Status: 19906 Operational, 156 Injured, 1026 KIA or MIA


This was the first time the operational number had dipped below 20 thousand, and the first day the fatality list clicked over a thousand. Northstar took a moment of silence before continuing.

"Weather report?" She asked, glancing over to Echo.

"Looks like.... Clear skies, slight fog rolling in from the east. It'll get thicker as the day goes on, and it's getting cold," Echo replied.


Weather: Clear skies, visibility deteriorating.


Nobody cared about the temperature. So long as it wasn't cold enough for frostbite, it didn't matter. They all had had fur anyway.

"Anybody score a hit yesterday?" She asked, looking over the Wonderbolt score sheet.

"Nope, that clusterbuck with the engines kept us out of action. Everyone was running CAP in case the griffons took advantage of it," Echo replied.


RAINBOW WING: 664 CONFIRMED, 27 UNCONFIRMED
LIGHTNING WING: 427 CONFIRMED, 65 UNCONFIRMED
SOARIN WING: 257 CONFIRMED, 22 UNCONFIRMED
FLEETFOOT WING: 322 CONFIRMED 0 UNCONFIRMED


FLEET SCORE: 7 CAPITAL, SIX FRIGATE, 27 TRANSPORT, 37 FIXED WING


Northstar left the board as is, and turned to face the bridge. The crew hadn't lined up as usual, it wasn't any disrespect on their part- they had just felt it improper without Spitfire.

She walked around to take the helm, stopping at Leftenant Stiff Wings' engineering station. It was both a short range radio relay that allowed him to keep in contact with the dozens of separate engineering squads and rooms, and a board that relayed from several dozen fire alarms and explosive sensors. Nearly the entire board was red at this point.

"What's the status of the engines, and the other repairs?" Northstar asked.

"Well..." Stiff spun around in his chair, "... we simply don't have the parts to fix the propellers, but we can fix the engines themselves. I suggest we use a pair of destroyers as tugs on either side when we go home. As for the rest... we're managing," He replied.

"You can still get us over the airfield for the drop, right?" 

"You bet, the steering propellers can move us at 20 knots, it'll take a few hours- but we can do it," He said.

"Good," Northstar said, and left him to his work to her own station.

"Wait a second... why am I on the helm if we can't move?" She asked herself, and glanced back at Spitfire's seat.

She shook her head. "I'm going down to see what Pike's up to, call me if you need me," She said, and left the bridge. 

It just wouldn't be right.


_______________


Eighty Six Hours into Operation Bronco


Flash flung out of bed, and with a flash had his uniform on. He was ready to go, having had the first really restful sleep since hitting the beach.

"Let's go colts! Duty calls, you've all got somewhere to be!" Brigadier Sunshine yelled, clanking a pot against the doorframe.

"Don't you?!" Mary yelled from somewhere near the back.

"Right here!" Sunshine yelled, and redoubled his clanking effort. Flash shut it out, and focused on the paper he had shoved in his uniform pocket.


	


Lieutenant Flash Sentry- Signals and Sharpshooting.
Saturday: Shooting practice- H.M.S Magnificent Flight Deck 
Sunday: Shooting practice- T.M.S Wide Flank
Monday: Practical Shooting with Griffons





He smirked, and pocketed the paper. General Pike had an odd sense of humour, but at least he had one. 

He marched himself up to the flight deck, only realizing when he got there he could have just flown up from the main deck- he hadn't been using his wings for much lately.

"Lieutenant Sentry!" General Pike ordered, noticing him come in from the centre of the deck.

"Yes sir!" Flash said, quickly cantering over and coming to attention.

"At ease," Pike said, and opened a crate next to him.

"You got some impressive scores in the Wonderbolt Academy, think you handle a sharpshooters rifle as well as a crossbow?" Pike asked.

"Yessir!" Flash replied, and caught the rifle Pike tossed at him.

He had a good look at it. Notably longer then the rifles used on the field, with a wider barrel and magazine. On the top was a long scope.

"We don't have many of these, so you take good care of that," Pike said, and stepped back. Behind him had been a skeet thrower.

Pike released it, and sent a skeet flying before Flash could react. It smashed against the deck a ways away before he had even shouldered the rifle.

"You don't get warning in combat lieutenant! Pay attention!" Pike shouted, and launched another.

Flash fired from the hip, knocking it out of the air barely a second into flight.

Pike launched another, and it met the same fate just slighter later, as Flash had to run the bolt this time.

"Impressive enough, let this one get to range- how close to the floor can you get it?" Pike challenged, and launched a third.

Flash looked through the scope, and followed its trajectory. When he pulled the trigger and sent the bullet cracking down the deck, it hit the disk just as it splintered against the floor. 

Pike grinned, Monday was going to be a good day.

A few hours later, Pike decided to increase the odds. He had a few cadets come down and line up five more skeet throwers. 

"Alright now, I want to see how well you do in a no win situation- you can't get them all no matter how hard you try," Pike said, and nodded to the cadets beside him. 

Six skeets went down, and Flash dispatched the first almost instantly. Tugging the bolt back he ejected the spent cartridge, and as soon as the next was in the chamber it was sent cracking through the air into the second. Ejecting another cartridge before the first had even hit the ground, the third bullet was fired and met its mark.

He stopped, and the other three skeets crashed against the deck.

"Think you can do better?" Pike asked.

Flash looked at him. "No sir, can't eject the cartridges fast enough," He said, and blew the end of the rifle to cool it.

Pike nodded.

	Skilled, and he knows his limits. This ponies going to make field martial.

"Sir, you have a marker?" Flash asked.

Pike was slightly confused by the question, but he did indeed. He pulled it out of his uniform pocket, and tossed it at Flash.

He wrote something on the rifle, and tossed it back.

	Pax Equestria

Off in the distance, not wanting to get in the way, Captain Northstar watched her son become the greatest sharpshooter Equestria had ever seen. When she turned to leave, she found a gun at her neck.

"Hooold on there little pony, we're going for a ride," Moonlight Shadow whispered in her ear.

Northstar froze. "What the hell do you want with me?" She asked.

"Think, idiot- equestrian shield- you're my ticket out of here," She said, and prodded Northstar forward.

Northstar slowly trotted forward, ever mindful of the gun stuck in her neck and the bat using her as a meat shield. Pike glanced over, and did a double take before yelling an alarm.

"Now hold on, I've got a hostage!" Moonlight yelled, gesturing with the gun.

"Attack me, and s..."

Crack

The gun shot out of Moonlights hand,flying backwards to Moonlights horror. Thinking fast, Northstar ducked.

Crack

Hearing a wet thunk beside her, Northstar rose to find Moonlight Shadow lying dead beside her, a hole cleanly between her eyes. She stood there in shock, rubbing her raw neck where the gun had scrapped it.

Flash tossed aside his rifle and galloped to her side, as a pair of MPs rushed to the bat, and hauled her body away.

"Mom?" Flash asked, frantically looking over her.

"I'm alright Flash," She said, and looked at her son with a new respect in her eyes. 

"You saved me, and you didn't even think you just.. acted," She said.

"I couldn't have waited, she had a gun to your head- I had to shoot while she was still monologuing," Flash said.

She reached forward and hugged him, shaking with adrenaline. Flash however, was steady as a rock. 

"You're a hero," She whispered.

"No, we all are."

_______________


One Hundred Hours into Operation Bronco


Fang's voice crackled through the radio sitting beside Flash's cot."Welcome to the hundredth hour of Waylay, brought to you by Grand Martial Galvon, guy sure likes titles doesn't he? Enjoy the next hour of music, on 92.5 Wonderbolt FM- The Whirlwind" 

Flash laughed, and lay back in his cot. It had been a long days work, and he had fired more rounds down range then he had in the entire campaign so far today.

On the radio, one of his favourite songs started playing- Fortunate Son.

He wasn't sure what a senator was, but he got the message well enough. Zebra music was pretty great.

"Hey Mary, what did they have you doing all day?" He asked, rolling over to the side. She was on the next cot, and the ever talkative Big Mac on the other.

"I'm pretty sure I can put a pony together out of a million pieces now, they had us doing mock triage for hours on cadavers," She said.

Flash held back a little vomit. "Doesn't that get kind of... heavy, eventually?" Flash asked.

She shrugged. "We're all just big wet machines Flash, and someponies gotta learn the mechanics to keep you all alive," She replied.

"Yep."

"Flash?" Mary asked, rolling on her side to look at him,"

"Yeah?"

"You asked me before how I deal with it, but how do you deal with it? You go out there everyday and get shot at, and when you shoot back you end a life- that's what always got me, who are they?" Mary asked.

"I do like you do, I leave my body to do the work, and turn my mind off. I also like to think of it like this- the blood is on the High Martials hands for starting this whole thing, we're here because of him," Flash said.

"Does it work?" Mary asked.

"No."


_______________


One Hundred Nine Hours into Operation Bronco


Captain Northstar awoke earlier than usual to check up on Spitfire, who was finally able to at least sit up in her bed. She had lost a lot of blood, and it was a wonder she was alive at all. Outside her bed was a report of her injuries, requiring two full pages to list. Broken ribs, lacerations all over the place, a deep wound in her arm, fractured leg, broken arm, it just went on and on. 

Northstar closed the blinds behind her and took a seat, Spitfire's eyes barely open, but watching her with that intense calculating fire that they always did. Her body might be in rough shape, but the mind of Spitfire was stronger then any mortal weapon yet concieved.

"Morning ma'am, you'll be pleased to know that bat is out of our hair," Northstar said.

Spitfire sighed, and relaxed. "That's the best news I've heard all week," She said weakly.

"What about the plan, are you going tomorrow?" 

Northstar nodded. "Everything is going according to schedule, and the lines on the ground are advancing faster then we thought. We'll drop tomorrow at 1200," Northstar said.

"That's four hours early, you sure we can do it?" Spitfire asked.

"Ma'am, we've got the best fighting force in the world assembled here. Don't worry about us, worry about yourself," Northstar replied.

Spitfire squinted at her, and seemed to be deciding if she was actually as confident as her words made her to be.

"Good, do it," She said, and closed her eyes. 

Northstar once again pulled the covers over her commander, and left her to her rest. A few minutes later she arrived at the bridge, and set to updating the boards.


Sunday, August 31st, 1001.


Equestrian Marine Corps Status: 19906 Operational, 156 Injured, 1026 KIA or MIA


Wonderbolts Status: 6 Capital ships, 23 frigates, 34 corvettes. 14 lost.


Weather: Clear skies, visibility perfect.


One Hundred Nine Hours into Operation Bronco


She cocked her head at the clock. There were five digits on it. 

Not a good sign for their future.

"Echo, casualty list?" She asked.

Echo trotted over and gave it to her. "We've had a bad night Captain, griffons are starting to use suicide tactics," She said, and handed over the board grimly.

Northstar stared at it for a whole half minute.

Five hundred dead.

Five hundred.

She did her duty and updated the board, lowered her cap to her heart, and gave a moment of silence.


Equestrian Marine Corps Status: 19186 Operational, 476 Injured, 1526 KIA or MIA


A note on the board explained the night- griffons had charged several lines suicidally, tearing into them with their flamethrowers. They had lost a hundred of their number in this, what a total waste of life for both sides.

"Weather?" Northstar asked.

"Clear, there's a storm brewing far out east though, probably get here late Tuesday according to our Phoenix," Echo replied.

Northstar left the weather report as is, and did the same with the Wonderbolt scores. There was no luck trying to get any fire from the air into the forest, and they had long since exhausted their long range armament. They had ten shells left for each cannon, and a total of twenty ATA missiles. They were supposed to have contacted Canterlot as soon as their position was secure for resupply, but that obviously wasn't happening.

"Echo, hail Equestria, let me try," Northstar ordered, and trotted to the comms board.

Echo reluctantly handed over the headset, and flicked the switch to transmit. 

"Equestria, come in Equestria," Northstar said.

The line buzzed, and a voice came through. "Who is this, and how did you get this frequency? Misuse of Night Guard communications frequencies is a felony."

Northstar thought for a moment, and figured she might as well go for broke. She pointed over to the switch marked 'bridge intercom', and Echo flipped it.

"It's me, Moonlight. I did as ordered but I don't have a secure transmitter on this plane, where am I setting down?" She asked.

Behind her Stiff and True Shot quickly bet on whether this would work or not.

"Are you serious? Goddamnit Moonlight you know better then this," The voice said, and there was a muffled conversation in the background.

"Stay clear of Canterlot, that's loyalist territory. Put it down in the Hollow Shades, and you better pray you don't get court martialed for this."

"Hey, I blew up the Magnificent, you should give me a damn medal," Northstar said, grinning as they seemed to fall for it.

"Y... what?! Moonlight you get back here as soon as you can, we can advance our timetable by weeks thanks to this! Now we rule the skies- thanks to you, you'll go down in history as the pony responsible for Her Glorious Ascension. May Queen Luna's Reign last a thousand years!"

Northstar stood there in shock as the transmission gave way back to static.

"Please tell me you recorded that," She asked Echo.

"We record everything- standard procedure," Echo replied.

She turned to the window, and out of the corner of her eye Stiff Wing and True Shot exchanged a sack of bits. Apparently Stiff won.

"Northstar, we're not going to have to fight Luna too now, are we?" Stiff asked.

"I don't know, he mentioned 'loyalists' in Canterlot, I don't see why Luna would abandon her own throne- she certainly worked hard enough to get it. Something weird is going on back home," She said.

"So who are we going to fight? Somebody has been messing with us, and I don't appreciate the attention," True Shot said.

"Some asshole named Archer if I'm following this right, we'll get him. One war at a time leftenant, one war at a time."


_______________


One Hundred Nine Hours into Operation Bronco


The stallions and mares of the 1st airborne were awoken on the dawn of their second day to their Brigadier once again yelling at them, banging a pot in the barracks doorway.

"Get up! You've all got somewhere to be!" He shouted. Flash leapt up, he always was a quick waker.

Mary wasn't. "Brigadier, don't you sleep?- I saw you pacing the deck at midnight!" 

"I don't sleep corporal, gave that up when I turned fourteen! Now get up, get to the flight deck, and enjoy the next twelve hours!" He shouted, and hit her with a medical bag.

Which it turned out was full of spell books. Flash ignored this, and threw his uniform on. 

He saluted the General on his way out, and smirked when he heard him still yelling at his comrades down the hall.

"Maybe if the rest of you were more like Sentry I wouldn't have to stand here like this!"

Quickly striding out into the Magnificent's deck, Flash took a deep breath of the crisp morning air and took a second to look at the island from the air, flapping his wings to hover beside the ship. It was beautiful, the soft light of morning twilight dimly reflecting off the foggy dew that hung over the trees, the sea surrounding it misty with frozen water droplets that hung in the brisk air. If it weren't for the smell of gunpowder in the air, and the long line of black burnt trees barely visible in the distance that marked the front line, it would be paradise.

After around a half minute of relaxing to that visage, he swooped backwards under the Magnificent and took his time looking for the Wideflank, it had been a long time since he really stretched his wings. 

First taking a wide course around the Magnificent itself, noting how the engines were more like burnt out stubs now, he spotted the ugly steel supply ship that was his objective. It really was ugly- just a grey steel rectangle with stacks and stacks of containers on its huge deck, a central spot in the middle so smaller barges could land and shift the containers around the fleet. The fact that most of the containers were open- and empty- was disconcerting.

General Pike was waiting on the centre deck, sitting on a chariot with a pile of crates beside him. Flash recognized it as a set of radio gear.

"Sentry?" The general addressed, checking his watch. "You're a few minutes early Sentry, have a seat," he said, and tossed Flash up an apple from a box beside him.

Its existence was limited to a few seconds, and Flash softly landed beside him.

"I always did wake up fast sir- so long as I had a reason," Flash said.

"No need for that here Sentry, just call me Pike," he said, and leaned back in his seat.

"I'm an earth pony, right? So I had to get a team of Wonderbolts to fly me over in this... thing. It does not look well on me to have to rely on Wonderbolts just to get around out here, we need some helicopters or something," he noted.

"I'm sure we could build some when we get home," Flash said.

"When we get home, that's right. You see all these containers?" Pike asked, gesturing around. Flash nodded.

"We've got two weeks of food left, and we're damn near out of ammunition. We were supposed to get re-supplied by now, but that isn't happening. It'll take two weeks to sail back with the Magnificent busted up like this," He said, and sat back up.

"Sentry, if we don't end this tomorrow we're not going home," he said, and slid out of the chariot.

He quickly opened a crate, and tossed Flash his gun. Flash grinned when he noted it was his, still having his message on it. 

"Seems a little ironic for a firearm, but whatever works for you," Pike said, and opened another crate. 

"Put on the radio gear, and fly to oh... let's say a hundred meters over the deck," he ordered. 

Flash slung the radio pack over his back, and glanced at the General when he noticed the phone was instead replaced with a headset.

"You're going to be a flying scout Sentry, you're not just the lead for 1st signals- you're going to be part of our rapid deployment squad. You and uhh.." Pike reached to his side, and grabbed a clipboard sitting on a box.

"Corporal Mary Frosthorn- Medical and magic. Corporal Macintosh- Heavy Weapons, survival expert. Corporal Rona Excavo- Signals, rapid field engineering. Yourself- recon and sharpshooting, and lastly Brigadier Sunshine- driving and leadership." He said, reading down the list.

"Well get to it Sentry, rise to a hundred meters, you'll notice a few targets on the beach. I want you to note their position and report them as soon as you can," he ordered.

Flash took wing, and as soon as he did the weight of the radio pack became utterly non existent. The magic of a pegasus pony, it allowed them to pull chariots and the Wonderbolt wings to fly nearly at the speed of sound with a half tonne of weapon on their backs. That was far beyond Flash's capability however.

One up at a hundred meters over the Wideflank, he pointed his rifle down towards the beach. The first target was pretty easy to find, a red target board standing between two wrecked griffon landing ships.

"120', 500 meters!" Flash shouted, and looked for the second.

"190', 600 meters!" 

"155', 700 meters!"

Continuing to look around, he couldn't find any more. So he turned his attention towards the sea, expecting some trickery and a target out there too.

Instead he spotted a fleet on the horizon. A fleet of surface ships.

	A fleet flying the Saddle Arabian flag.

"Sentry, you better be enjoying the sunrise, I don't want any bad news!" Pike yelled up at him.


_______________


One Hundred Ten Hours into Operation Bronco


The bridge of the Magnificent was absolute chaos as orders were given, weapons were loaded, and wings were ordered out. The fleet was forming up outside as a protective screen, and the Phoenixes were armed and in the air. 

"Echo, do we have the Saddle Arabian frequency?" Northstar asked, standing beside the comm station.

"Yeah, hailing them now," Echo replied, and handed Northstar the headset.

"Saddle Arabian Fleet, this is the Equestrian Wonderbolt Fleet, please identify your purpose," Northstar asked, as diplomatically as possible. She really didn't want to cause a diplomatic incident, or give them an excuse to attack.

"Equestrian Fleet, this is the Saddle Arabian Expeditionary Force, we are in international waters and have no reason nor need to tell you anything. I will however state that we have no intention of attacking," the other commander said.

Northstar covered the mouthpiece "Recall the planes, and stand down from weapons ready," She ordered.

"But ma'am- the..." 

"That's an order!" Northstar barked, and uncovered the set.

"Your right to international waters is recognized, but any attempt to come within weapons range will be met with force, is that understood Saddle Arabian Expeditionary Force?" She asked, her brow beading with sweat. 

A quick glance out the window added to her nerves, there must be at least a hundred ships on the horizon, dots flying above marking Saddle Arabian planes buzzing over them. If only they had some warning before they actually had seen them.

"That is understood Equestrian Wonderbolt Fleet. I see you have stood down from alert status, and we will do as well. Be mindful that we will respond in kind if you approach us- and this includes those planes," The other commander said.

Northstar silently sighed with relief, and the other line clicked off.

"Dodged a bullet there," she said, and wiped the sweat off her brow. 

"I'd say we dodged a 16 inch naval shell, if they wanted to hit us they could slice right through," True Shot noted. 

"If I had to bet," Echo said, "They're waiting on the results of the ground fighting. If we take the ground they would have to re-take it, and with the tension in the far west they probably don't have troops to spare."

Northstar sighed, and considered her options. Now they had two ticking timebombs- supplies running out, and a Saddle Arabian fleet staring them in the face. War hadn't been declared between them yet- but that sure hadn't stopped the griffons. They were going to get eventually, they were just waiting for an easy opening.

"It would be really, really, nice if we could contact Equestria right about now," she said, and lowered her cap to rub sweat off her forehead.


_______________


One Hundred Fifteen Hours into Operation Bronco


The 1st Airborne wasn't able to stop training while the fleet formed up, and Flash had spent the last few hours honing his skills of focusing on the task at hand, cancelling out outside distractions- while also being mindful of everything around him. More than once he had almost nailed a Wonderbolt patrolling while he shot targets down on the beach, but always managed to stop himself.

"Alright Sentry, you can come down now!" Pike shouted below. 

Flash lowered his rifle, as he lowered himself to the ground. When he landed he suddenly realized he was hungry, and almost fell over when the weight of the radio gear caught up with him.

"I swear Sentry, I've never seen anypony like you. If your history wasn't so marked I'd say you were the perfect soldier," Pike said, and gestured towards crate full of vegetables. 

Flash did his namesake proud, and hungrily dug into his lunch. 

"A half hours break, and then the last drill of the day. You're going to be working with Mary Frosthorn, who should be here right about..." He looked at his watch, and then pointed to the deck.

"Now."

A red fog flashed into existence, and disappeared an instant later. Mary stood in its place.

"Good, you've got a handle on teleportation, Corporal," Pike said, nodding his approval.

"Yes...sir," Mary panted, and smiled when she noticed Flash.

"I can't break a hundred meters though sir," She noted.	

Pike whistled. "A hundred meters? Most unicorns can't break fifty. If we do end up fighting Luna, I'm glad I've got you people to do it," he said.

Flash looked up from stuffing his face. "Hold on, is that what this is about- this 'rapid response team' is about?" he asked.

"Rapid deployment squad, and yes," He said, and beckoned them both forward.

"We did a lot of planning in the old guard- heck it's half of what did, the other half being looking good for weddings. Operation Half Moon called for the Wonderbolts to seal off the Hollow Shades, the guard to seal off the inner mountain, and Centurions to... do what needed to be done," He explained.

"That's all gone right to hell now obviously, so the new plan is to drop you on her while the 1st secures Canterlot. I call it Operation... uhh.." He paused, deep in thought. "Thousand Year Itch"

"You haven't had very long to plan this, have you?" Flash asked.

Pike sighed. "I came up with this Friday, making it up as we go is becoming a hallowed tradition of our fine nation."


_______________


One Hundred Sixteen Hours into Operation Bronco


After lunch, Pike ordered them both to attention, and handed Mary a rather expensive looking rod of some strange grey metal.

"That's 100 grams of alicornium, and it's worth more then both our lives. Do not lose that," he warned.

"Alicornium? You're kidding me!" She asked, holding the rod as if it contained the secrets to the universe.

"I am not, that came out of the wrecked Phoenix, so you can thank Sentry here for it. If my understanding is right, you'll be a little more capable with magic, but if you go overboard you'll burn your horn out," Pike explained.

"Don't worry sir, I know. I think it was one of Celestia's old students.. Shimmer or something? Almost killed herself with a rod half this size," Mary said.

Pike nodded. "Good, that's why I gave this to you- as a medic you'll know the signs of fatigue, and when to stop," he said, and opened another crate.

"There's a reason I have both of you here. these are tracer bolts. Sentry, shoot the bolt at a target- it'll burn for a few seconds and can dig into solid concrete. Frosthorn, blow up the target," Pike said, and lifted a scoped crossbow out of the crate.

Flash and Mary glanced at each other unsure.

"I said shoot!" Pike yelled, and tossed the crossbow at Flash. He deftly caught it with one arm while he slung the rifle on his back with the other, and shot into the air.

The crossbow, which he inspected before sighting, was the same as the old guards with the exception of the weird looking bolts, and long range scope. The bolts looked like they were coated with something- probably an incendiary chemical, and had a small arm at the very back. Happy to have the state of the art equipment, he put it to his shoulder and looked through the scope.

He quickly saw one of the targets.

"190', 600 meters!" he shouted, and shot the bolt. It scraped against the barrel of the crossbow, and sparked alight as it shot forward into the air. For a few seconds it arced through the air, and then dug into the wood board, burning bright orange.

"No need for that now Sentry!" Pike shouted below.

"Frosthorn, light it up!" He ordered.

Flash lowered his crossbow and glanced below, Mary stood over the edge of the Wide Flank and her horn shone bright red, before conjuring a huge fireball before her. It roared through the air downrange, and exploded with a great force a few meters from Flash's target with a fiery explosion, sending glassy sand into the air for dozens of meters around.

"Good, but not great! Practice!" Pike shouted below.

Flash looked through the scope again, and sighted the second target. Once again the bolt whizzed through the air, and Flash swore as it just barely missed, burying itself in the metal of some debris behind it.

"Wake up Sentry! Bolts don't move as fast!" Pike shouted.

Mary sent another fireball downrange, and this one impacted precisely on the blazing bolt.

"She's giving you a run for your money Sentry, forget how to shoot?" 

Flash sighted the third target, and took a second to steady his aim before sending the third bolt flaming towards it. He nailed it dead on, and it was quickly followed by a huge explosion.

"Hot damn now we're in business!"


_______________


One Hundred Twenty Two Hours into Operation Bronco


Six hours later Flash was getting exhausted, but he kept at it. The beach at this point was little more than melted steel and dark glassy rock, so he started firing at outlying trees.

There weren't many left.

He once again shouldered his crossbow, and sighted one of them. 

"Sir, I'm all out of juice," Mary said below, and Flash lowered it. Glancing down he noticed something- the tip of her horn had become slightly red.

"Alright, come on down Flash!" Pike shouted, waking up from his nap.

Worlds going to hell, I'm shooting at a beach, and the stallion was napping. 

Flash slung the crossbow around his back, having found a while earlier his radio pack had a holster for it. A lot of effort had gone into this gear, he only hoped he was really the right one to receive that attention. He lowered himself down, but stayed a low hover- he was so exhausted his legs probably couldn't hold him with the pack.

"You two are dismissed, we launch at 1200 tomorrow. Sleep in your uniforms, and keep that gear close," He ordered.

"Ughhhh, do we really have to do that?" Mary asked, painfully aware of the heavy medical bags she had worn all day.

"Rapid deployment squad. From now on that gear is your skin on duty, and you're going to be on duty a lot," Pike said, grinning.

"Sir, with all do respect- that name sucks," Flash said.

Pike sighed "Well what do you suggest, lieutenant?" he asked, exasperated.

Flash considered. Brigadier Sunshine, a mage with fire magic. Sunshine, sunburn...

"Well, we are Celestia's Royal Marine Corps, right? And our leader is Brigadier Sunshine... Sunburn Squad?" Flash tried.

Pike sighed, a sigh that seemed to be his very soul crying out in anguish.

"Fine," he said, and waved at a passing Wonderbolt patrol to get their attention, "if Sunshine agrees, it's all yours," he said.

Pike paused, and then shooed away the approaching (and now very confused) Wonderbolt patrol.

"What the hell am I doing? Sentry! Pull us home," Pike ordered, and laid back in the chariot.

Mary glanced at Flash, a look that seemed to say "sorry", and leapt on herself. Flash shrugged, chariot pulling wasn't that hard, the only reason a pair normally did it was so one could take the 'lead' in carrying it over long distance. The Magnificent was only a few hundred meters up, they had been in the shadow of it all day.

Flash hooked himself up, and lifted the chariot into the air behind him. Slowly at first, but then he glanced back at Mary and winked. She sensed what he was up to, and held herself tight against the side- Pike lounging in the soft red cushioned seat.

Flash took a deep breath, and then launched upwards at 70', as fast as his wings could take him. Careful to not actually kill the general- that might be a little far-, he sped up towards the Magnificent's docking bay, and overshot it, doing a wide turn to lower himself to an angle for entry. Once it was in sight, he blazed forward with a second burst of speed and shot inside, sliding sideways in the air and coming to a rough stop amongst the busy deck crew.

Mary leapt over the side, and straightened her uniform with a professionalism befitting a General. General Pike pealed himself off the cushion he had found himself merged with from the force of his 'ride', and slid out of the chariot with his mane frazzled.

He shook his head, and wobbled on his hooves for a moment before he was able to collect himself, Mary standing to the side and suppressing her laughter- poorly- while Flash briskly detached from the chariot.

"Sentry, you're lucky I have a sense of humour. Brigadier Buckshot would probably have you doing laps right now," he said, and approached Flash.

"Instead, I'm going to have you do push ups, fifty, with the gear on," he ordered.

Flash shrugged. "Worth it," He said, and got down to do his repentance. 

Fifty push ups later he lifted himself back up, to find that Pike was long gone, Mary leaning over the chariot and observing him.

"Dinner?" Flash asked.

"It's a date."


_______________


One Hundred Twenty Three Hours into Operation Bronco


Captain Northstar pulled back the blinds, and took her seat beside Spitfire once again. She was healing remarkably fast, it would certainly take more then losing a third of her blood to stop Spitfire.

Spitfire looked at her, those calculating eyes on Northstar. "Are they ready?" Spitfire asked, weakly- slowly- shifting to a sitting position.

"I'm confident in them ma'am, we'll win tomorrow, you can count on it," Northstar replied.

"Don't make promises you can't keep Northstar, every plan needs a fallback," Spitfire said.

"Not this one ma'am, we don't have anything to fall back on," Northstar returned.

Spitfire shook her head, which seemed to cause some pain and she cringed.

"I always have a fail-safe Northstar. If we lose tomorrow you are to go down to the reactor, and you are to release the core over the deep sea. I won't let anybody get their hands on that technology," Spitfire ordered.

Northstar was taken aback. "Ma'am, if we do that we'll lose the Magnificent, and we don't have enough other ships to get us all home!" She argued.

Spitfire sighed. "If we lose, it won't even matter. There can be no surrender Northstar, the technology here can't fall into enemy hands. Not this ship, not the Phoenix's, none of it. If we fail, Equestria's only hope is that they keep the lead in technology, maybe they can build another one," she said.

"They can't... we don't have enough material," Northstar said.

"So we better not fail Northstar, a generation of ponies is counting on us," Spitfire said, and released a deep sigh.

"The worlds on your shoulders Captain, I wish I could be there with you- but I can't even move my legs," Spitfire said, and her eyes began to flicker weakly, and then closed.

"I wish you could too," Northstar said, and pulled the covers over Spitfire once again.

While Northstar attended to Spitfire in the infirmary, Flash and Mary ate alone in the cafeteria. Everyone else was still on duty, or drilling somewhere, so they had their peace. They had, as of now, run out of fresh fruit- all that was left was carrots and a few tonnes of trail mix. 

The consensus with the crew was they better get through those carrots as soon as possible, for morale reasons.

"So Mary," Flash asked, sitting across from her at a cafeteria bench, a pile of carrots split between the two. "Why'd you sign up?"

"I always wanted to help people, but the work at Canterlot General was always so... boring. Waiting around all day, sometimes mend a limb or two. So I signed up with the guard, and then I started doing work that really helps ponies. Guards got injured all the time even before the war, so I got to really help. I got to travel all over Equestria too- and now even beyond," she replied, and rubbed her reddened horn. It seemed to be slightly pained, but she hadn't complained.

"What about you? A pegasus in the marines, I gotta say it's weird," She asked.

Flash nodded. "It sure is, but I honestly think I'm doing more here then I would there. They fired me right out of the academy, and my career in the guard wasn't much brighter, but out here I think I'm making a difference."

"We all are," he added.

"You keep saying that like you're afraid of taking some credit for yourself, come on Flash- you're the best sharpshooter I've ever seen, gloat a little," Mary suggested.

"Like, look at me, I'm a medic that blows things up. Pretty cool if you ask me, can't wait to tell my folks about it."

Flash laughed. "You'll be the hero of the neighborhood. Myself? I don't have to write home- I am home," Flash said.

Mary didn't seem to understand, Flash smiled and leaned back in his chair. "Captain Northstar? That's my mother," 

"Wait hold on- the Magnificent's Captain- second only to Spitfire- is your mother?! What the hell are you doing trudging around with the grunts, you should be leading a wing, or commanding a ship, or something!" Mary exclaimed.

Flash looked at her, and came up with the perfect response. He reached forward, put his hoof on hers, and looked into her eyes.

"If I was commanding a ship," he said softly.

"I would never have met you."

She blushed, and pushed herself off the table. "Meet me on the flight deck in ten minutes," she said, and strutted out of the room.

Flash watched closely.

What a flank.


One Hundred Twenty Three Hours, Ten Minutes, into Operation Bronco


Flash entered the flight deck, and found it a flurry of activity. The deck crew was frantically modifying a series of the landing craft- apparently putting more armour on the sides at the moment. The hastily added steel- which looked to have been stripped from the swiss-cheese roof over the flight deck, looked like steel paper mache over the sloped craft. The Pheonix planes had been moved to the back, a small pile of missiles beside them was their only remaining stock. 

Flash had a thought- what if they attached a few missiles to the landing craft, and loosed them as they 'glided' in from the sky? He buried it for later, and spotted Mary standing on the long flat deck, in a circle of light that descended from the evening sun outside through a vast hole in the roof. 

Mary waved him over, and Flash started over to her. She seemed to be standing next to a radio.

"See all these busy ponies, frantically preparing to send us all into the lions den tomorrow?" Mary asked.

"Yeah, what ab..." Flash trailed off as he noticed Mary rubbing her red horn again, a few purple-green sparks shooting out.

He was greatly concerned, and sped to her side. "Mary? Are you alright?" He asked.

She waved a hoof at him, and cleared her throat. "I'm fine, I just overexerted myself today. Alicornium is a powerful thing, and if I didn't know the signs I could easily kill myself with this rod," she said, revealing the rod sown inside her uniform.

"Signs like a red horn?" Flash asked.

She nodded. "Red horn, followed by pain, followed by madness and fits of rage, followed by..." She paused to consider.

"We don't know actually, everypony has gone insane at that point," she finished.

"Right, now then- the deck crew. They're all busy, worried, and probably exhausted," Mary said, and reached down to turn the radio on.

Music, music from the 980s, his favourite kind. It echoed through the hall and added itself to the clanging cacaphony of the rushed workers, welding and slamming metal together. 

"Let's give them a show," Mary said, and grasped Flash's forehooves in her own. 

He looked into her eyes, those beautiful iris's of deep green, and she into his; and for the first time in Flash Sentry's life he realized he was actually moving forward, and with that thought he entered a state of pure bliss as he danced with her. It was a feeling he had never experienced before, true happiness.

The pair danced in the light cast by the evening sun, and slowly the cacophony was overtaken by the music as the deck workers paused in their work to behold the spectacle. Two marines, both clad in their heavy gear, danced without a care in the world. They, and those watching, gave into the peace and serenity of it; and for half an hour they forgot they were at war. For a half hour they spun in the light, a hundred eyes watching them. 

As much as all present hoped, it couldn't last forever. The sun continued its never-ending cycle, and the sunshine ceased to shine through the hole, casting them in darkness. The pair halted, and Flash held Mary in his arms.

The deck crew clapped and whistled, and then returned to their work, their effort redoubled and their morale as high as could be.

"That," Mary said, adjusting her uniform and fixing her mane, "is what we're fighting for."

Flash felt he could take on the entire griffon army, and bouyed by this confidence he did what any sane stallion would in his position.

He kissed her.


_______________


One Hundred Fourty Hours into Operation Bronco


Northstar 'awoke', having not really been able to sleep- who could with the world on their shoulders- and swung herself out of bed, cringing with pain as she stood on her broken leg. Her quarters was next to Spitfire's, and actually somewhat larger. She wasn't actually around all that often, the last week was an oddity. 

She yawned, and rubbed her sore eyes. With the practised speed of a veteran soldier she dragged her tired body through the motions of a quick shower, and put on her uniform. She looked at herself in the mirror, quite aware of how bruised she was all over- one of the luckier ones at that- and put on her cap. Two stars, one less than Spitfire's. She took a long, deep breath, for today was the day they charged. Five thousand frontline marines would charge the lines, while a hundred of their finest were going to get dropped right into the lions den.

Including her son.

She was afraid for him, terrified for him, but she buried that deep down inside. For centuries their family line had served, waiting for that faithful day they would actually defend Equestria. They had always been high in the Wonderbolts, but never on top. Seconds, thirds, flight leaders, but never Captain. Northstar was the first, although that honour had been somewhat diminished with the rank now superceded by 'air martial', and Flash was the first non-wonderbolt. Was it somehow dishonourable? No. The Wonderbolts flew, Flash fought.

Outside her quarters Echo was waiting, and they strode down the hall as a pair. She seemed awfully eager to pass off today's report.

Northstar paused to look at it, and wished beyond anything else she could make it vanish.

Two Thousand souls had lost their lives last night, the griffons had broken out the flame-throwers again. Their attack force all died, but they took down a lot of good ponies.

"Echo," Northstar said, signing the report.

"Yes ma'am?" Echo said, taking the report and continuing to follow Northstar.

"We are going to burn this airfield to the ground. Go update the bridge reports, and get us moving towards the drop zone. Marines launch in an hour, I won't be up till then," Northstar ordered.

Echo saluted and left back the other way, Northstar pushed open the infirmary door. Tulle greeted her inside.

"Captain, it's good you're here- Spitfire was asking for you earlier," Tulle said, following her to the bed at the end.

Northstar turned to her before pulling back the curtain. "I imagine she's worried, big day today," she said, and ducked inside.

Spitfire sat up on her bed, remarkably better looking then the day before. Her arm was covered in bandages, but her coat had regained its brilliant yellow colour, and her eyes lost the sleepy look they had the past few days. 

"Mornin' ma'am, we're all set for 1200," Northstar said, closing the curtain and taking her seat on the bed.

"Good," Spitfire said. "Now help me up," She said.

Northstar watched as Spitfire slid her legs off, and wobbly tried to stand. She was clearly not able to, and Northstar had to quickly prop her up.

"Ma'am, you can't walk yet, you're just going to make yourself worse," Northstar warned.

"Northstar," Spitfire said, and grunted with effort as she brushed aide the curtain. "We're about to drop a hundred ponies straight into hell. I can't look weak. I need to stand in front of them, and send them off myself, even if it kills me," She said.

"Leftenant Tulle!" She shouted, slowly- and with great effort- pulling herself forward to the awed looks of some still wounded crew in the other beds.

"Spitfire?!" Tulle exclaimed for the other side of the room, quickly daring over. "What the hell are you doing? You need to be resting!"

"Tulle, painkillers, now," Spitfire grunted.

"But ma'a..."

"That's an order," 

Tulle looked to Northstar, hoping she had some way to argue their commander down, but they both knew that was hopeless. When Spitfire had her mind made up, no army on earth could get in her way.

The griffons had tried, and look what happened to them?

"Fine, but I can only allow you out of bed for an hour, that's a doctors order," Tulle said, and rummaged through her medics bag for a syringe.

"An hour is all I need doc."


_______________


One Hundred Fourty One Hours into Operation Bronco


Brigadier Sunshine once again woke the unit up, yelling incoherently at them in the barracks. This morning their was no yelling back, no sarcastic complaints or mumbling. They had a job to do, and within thirty seconds they had their gear on and were moving down the hallway. Flash took his place behind Sunshine, as he always did, and Rona Excavo came up behind. Mary was somewhere in the back with the other two medics. A hundred ponies, the best of the best. 

Flash glanced at Rona, who seemed anxious. Actually on that note, he was. They all were. The sparks of anxiety from the few dozen unicorns lit up the hallway and sounded like sparklers going off.

"Corporal Excavo, you ready for this? You weren't even in Baltimare," Flash asked.

Rona glared back at him. "Sergeant Excavo, and I'm your second now," she replied. 

"Fair enough."

For the few minutes that the company took to march up to the flight deck- up a hastily made metal staircase that wrapped around the ship- it was never designed for flightless ponies- Flash looked off the side downwards. They were slowly coasting over the island towards the drop point in the noon sunlight. The weather was perfect- thankfully, and the view of the dew covered forest was beautiful. The earth ponies and unicorns did not seem to appreciate the view as much as he did. 

The crew of the Magnificent watched them pass with awe, and they all stood at attention, and saluted, as they made their way through, dropping whatever they were doing to do so. 

"Give 'em hell...Ciders on me Marine...Call me...Send em back to Wings Reach..."

After passing the crew, and soaking up their admiration (and a few mares blowing kisses), they entered the flight deck. The landing ships were all ready to go, in all their ugly armoured glory. Each had a 30mm cannon poking out of the top, uncovered, and with a handle for aiming by some poor soul that would be manning it.

"Company halt!" Brigadier Sunshine ordered. 

They did, a line of the bravest ponies in Equestria's history lined up on the deck with their commander before them. Flash looked past at a podium, and was surprised to General Pike standing beside Air Martial Spitfire. She didn't even look tired, despite apparently losing a third of her blood only days ago, and most of her body was still covered in bandages, her arm held in a sling. Beside her was Captain Northstar, who nodded to Flash.

Spitfire stood forward, and cleared her throat. Flash wondered if she was actually immortal.

"You, 1st airborne, represent the very best soldiers in Equestrian History. Today I am going to send you into hell, and you are going to kill everything you see. Is that understood?" She shouted.

"Yes ma'am!" They shouted their replied together.

Spitfire stood back, and nodded to Pike.

"Alright colts! You've all been assigned your units, now get on those ships and make us proud! Fifteen thousand ponies are counting on you down there, and so is Equestria itself. If you fail, we all fail. Move out!" Pike ordered.

Sunshine barked some orders, and the company split up towards their craft. The armour and cannon had meant that each could only carry ten ponies, Flash was to board A1.

Once inside, he was pleased to note that seats had been added- and that his friends were they with him. Sunshines Sunburn, the best of the best. Flash Sentry, Rona Excavo, Mary Frosthorn, Big Macintosh, and Sunshine himself. They had already boarded- Rona glanced down at him from her seat up at that cannon, and Big Mac nodded from the end. His gun had been upgraded- now he had two giant guns on his back. 

Mary was already seated, and Flash sat beside her. As he did, Sunshine boarded himself, and took for the cockpit.

"Just us sir?" Flash asked.

"Just us, we're going in on a special mission of our own. I've been training on how to pilot this thing, and we're going to smash straight into the command tower. You're going to cut the head off this snake," Sunshine replied, and plopped into the cockpit seat.

"Or die trying. Buckle up colts!"

The rear ramp slammed shut, and the noise of the crafts motor started up. They no longer had propellers, but the power to the wheels had been doubled- they could move very slowly once on the ground- assuming they made it. Theoretically the griffons were out of long range missiles, and had nothing else that could puncture their armour. 

That they knew of.

Outside the craft, Spitfire and Pike watched their last hope board their drop craft. 

"This better work!" Pike shouted over the massive noise of their motors."

"It will Pike! It'll work!" Spitfire shouted, and Northstar caught her as she wobbled on her footing.

"Can they see me?" She asked.

"No," Northstar replied, and barely a second later Spitfire fell asleep in her hooves. 

"Pike, do something useful for once and help me get her to the infirmary!" Northstar ordered, gesturing to Spitfire's legs.

Pike glared at her, but did as ordered and picked up Spitfire's legs, and Northstar gingerly held her arms- careful of where she knew the wound lie.

"Captain, watch your tone," Pike warned.

"General, I have the same rank you do- there's two stars on my hat," Northstar said.

Pike stared at her, and she at him, as they slowly waddled out carrying her.

"Shut up you two, blue on blue," Spitfire moaned, before falling asleep again.

They both laughed in response. "What the hell are we doing? We've got a war to win here, General Pike," Northstar said.

"No no, you were right. I haven't pulled my own weight around here, don't worry about it, Captain Northstar."

Northstar didn't hear him, her glance had turned downwards. The airfield was visible from the staircase below them, and within minutes they would launch. The others on the ground had been ordered to charge minutes ago to go along with this, and the crackle of gunfire from below steady grew in intensity.Once they reached the main deck, the sound of fire from the ground hitting the bottom of the ship echoed around like rain against a steel shed.

"I bet they're fertilizing the fields down there," Pike noted.

A few minutes later they dropped Spitfire off at the infirmary, and Pike hurried out after checking his watch. Tulle checked her over while Northstar stood by worriedly.

"She's going to be fine, right?" Northstar asked.

Tulle nodded, and took off her stethoscope. "Damned if I know how, but she's built like a... I don't even know. Celestia herself isn't this strong," she said.

Northstar sighed with relief, and quickly left the infirmary herself for the bridge.

A siren sounded down the hall, and she started into a gallop.

"Action stations! Action stations! Enemy aicraft!" Echo buzzed through the intercom, and the cannons shook the ship as they fired off their loads at whatever was out there.


___________________________


Landing craft A1 shot off the deck and was immediately pelted with small arms fire from the ground, which had absolutely no effect. Rona started firing at... something, the shells ejected from the cannon rattling against the floor.

"Something just flew into the Magnificent!" She shouted, and ceased firing.

"Eyes on the prize everyone, they can handle themselves! Brace for impact!" Pike shouted back.

Flash braced, and felt Mary's hoof on his own. They shared a glance for a brief moment before the craft slammed into the ground. The magic kept them light in the air, but as soon as they touched down the craft became a ten tonne steel behemoth.

"Targets at ten and two, light them up sergeant!" Sunshine ordered, as the vehicle sped forward to its destination. Flash glanced at the door, and wished they had a window or something.

Rona had a good view, and she saw the griffon command centre directly ahead. The other craft had landed and were disgorging troops, the field quickly becoming a chaotic scene. The griffons were clearly taken by surprise, having formed a long dirt mount surrounding the area to defend from the assaulting Marines on the other side. They were rapidly being cut down by the mares and stallions of the first that had just landed behind them. 

A griffon stuck his head out of a window in the command center and fired an RPG towards Rona, she fired the cannon down at it with a thunderous report, and blew the entire wall inside the building. The RPG bounced off a thin magical shield- there was a reason she was on the gun.  She kept shooting the building, aiming for the windows and decimating this side of it.

"Coming up fast Brigadier, get ready down there!" She shouted, and turned the gun to the side to light up a charging griffon flamethrower squad.

Flamethrowers were rather explosive, and when she released the trigger there was was nothing left of them less a dark stain on the dirt landing strip, the spent shells clattering to the floor below her. The command centre was coming up fast, so Rona ducked before Sunshine rammed it.

"Alright colts, get in there and capture or kill whoever is leading this!" Sunshine ordered. 

"Excavo, stay on that gun!"

The door smashed down inside the building, in what looked like a lobby. Flash bolted forward and slid behind a reception desk, dodging a hastily fired shot from a griffon rifle. Mary slid beside him.

Flash peaked over, and tried to think of a strategy to deal with him. 

"Yeeaaarrrrhhhh!"

Flash ducked his head as a giant red tank charged past, and cringed at the explosive report of his cannons blasting down the hall.

"Cease fire! Don't waste your ammo!" Flash ordered, the griffon was no more- and neither was the wall behind him.

Big Mac grunted, and ducked behind the wall before the hallway ahead, while Flash slid to the other side. Mary extended a red shield before herself, and moved down the hallway.

"Looks clear, follow me!" She said, and beckoned they follow behind her. 

Flash did, Big Mac watching their back. Rona kept firing out behind them, her gun constantly booming out. They slowly went down the hallway with Big Mac and Flash checking the rooms to their sides, finding them all empty. The griffons had left hastily, and most of whatever documents were there still remained scattered on debris covered desks. The continued past and up the stairwell, bypassing the second floor since apparently Rona had blown most of it wide open.

On the third floor they entered as they had on the first, and checked off the rooms. Flash pointed his rifle into one, and a pony stared back at him.

He wasn't armed, and... was probably as tall as Celestia. A stallion with a brown coat and longer muzzle then usual. Not a pony- a horse.

"It's about damn time," he said.

Flash wasn't sure what to say, so he defaulted to his training. "Surrender to us, and you will not be harmed," He said. The others took notice and watched his back.

The horse snorted, and dusted himself off. "I surrender, and I'm unarmed. You would be wise not to harm me soldier, Saddle Arabia isn't at war with you... yet," he sneered.

"Contact!" Mary yelled, and Flash leapt into the room as a stream of fire flew down the hallway. 

"Who are you!?" Flash shouted, glancing down the hall from a crouched position behind the doorway. 

A pair of griffons were making their way up, both with flamethrowers. Mary was across the hall, having ducked into a room. Big Mac had apparently vanished.

"I am Rossak, and that is as far as I'm going with you." The horse said.

Flash shook his head, and fired blindly down the hall. It had the intended effect, and a second volley of fire shot down it, setting the building ablaze. 

A terrifying war cry followed, and then a red monolith appeared from the stairwell letting loose 30mm cannon fire like an unstoppable force. Once he had passed their room, Flash pulled the horse out behind him and retreated along with Mary. Big Mac kept filling the griffons with rounds, and they toppled out of the back of the open wall.

"Big Mac, objective secure- let's get out of here!" Flash ordered, and flicked a switch on his pack.

"1st Airborne Sunburn Squad- Objective Complete!" He repeated.


___________________


Northstar slid into the bridge and quickly slammed the door behind her. "Situation report!" she yelled frantically. 

"Griffons breached decks 5, 7, and 9! Some sort of boarding craft flew right into us, they were hiding in the forest!" Echo shouted, over the sound of a half dozen alarms on the bridge and dozens of small explosions outside. 

Northstar quickly threw open the small armoury cabinet, and collected small arms- rifles- for her crew.

"They don't know the layout of the ship- so they're going to be heading for the obvious place. That's us," She said, and began handing them out.

Stiff Wing took his without even looking away from his damage control board, constantly barking orders to engineering, Clear Skies was similarly busy managing their wings. True Shot eagerly checked the chamber of his, but Echo seemed to freeze up when Northstar handed hers out.

"Echo?" Northstar asked, to no response.

She sighed, and with the explosions outside reminding her why she was doing this, she shouted.

"Leftenant Echo! Attention!" 

Echo shot to attention and automatically stood, saluting, beside her chair.

"Take this rifle!" Northstar shouted, thrusting it forward into Echo's hooves. "Watch that door!" 

"Yes ma'am!" Echo yelled back, and used her chair to stabilize the rifle.

Then her brain caught back up, and she shuddered. "I've never fired a rifle ma'am," she said quietly.

Northstar put a hoof on her shoulder. "Just do your best, most of us up here haven't," she said, and then checked her own rifle. They each had five shots.

"Alright, here's what's going to happen!" Northstar shouted, trotting down to Spitfire's chair, and slamming the BRIDGE LOCKDOWN button- a rather large red button positioned under the armrest. With that, the tarp covering the windows was torn off as a thick sheet of metal slid down over the opening.

"Echo! Scramble your dials, we can't let them know our frequencies! Stiff, tell engineering to ignore all bridge commands untill we stand down from red alert! Clear- same order! True Shot, you better be!" She yelled, and positioned her rifle on Spitfire's chair, pointing towards the door. To hell with how odd it felt, they had a bridge to protect.

They carried out their orders, and the bridge itself fell to a eerie silence- while all hell broke loose outside.

There was shouting down the hallway, and then a thunk. Northstar felt sweat on her brow as she held the gun.

The door creaked, and the wheel spun as it unlocked. She took a deep breath and sighted the gun at the door, along with the four others.

"Friendly!" Pike shouted, and a moment later the door opened. He stood there, holding a pistol with a pair of MPs at his side. 

He was bleeding.

"General Pike? What's going on out there?" Northstar asked.

"Well," Pike grunted, and adjusted his arm, "It's going pretty well on the ground, and we've got most of these boarders locked up on the flight deck. We're here to help," He replied.

Northstar was about to thank him when she saw a trio of griffons slide into the hall behind him.

"Pike!" Northstar shouted, frantically pointing forward.

He threw himself to the ground and fired down the hall, his two comrades doing the same. The griffons took up positions on either side of the end of the hall.

"Surrender and or be killed!" A gruff voice shouted at them.

"Buck you!" Pike returned. 

Northstar remember Spitfire's orders. "Pike! We need to get to the reactor!" 

Pike looked back and nodded, and then two griffons charged up the hallway, casting an obscuring cloud of fire that roared down it. Their reply was the crack of their rifles, firing down the hallway blindly. 

The fire cleared, and two griffon bodies lay on the floor. A third, a heavily armoured monstrosity holding, to Northstar's confusion, a large sword- and no helmet.

"I am the bane of Talonhuus, Son of Yarok! I will see your rivers run red, and your cities burn! I-"

Crack

Northstar shot him in the face, and he fell clattering the floor like an armoured sack of meat. Then Northstar ran the bolt of her rifle, and the shell clattered to the floor of the now silent bridge.

Pike got up, and dusted himself off. "Good shot Northstar, now what's this about the reactor?" He asked.

Northstar left her position, and motioned the rest of the crew follow her into the hallway. "If the griffons find it, we're up manure creek without a paddle. It would take half a year to build a new one, assuming they don't steal the alicornium," She said, and they started moving down the hallway as a group.

"What if that's why they're here?" Echo asked from the rear.

"Then we better hurry," Pike said, and led them into a gallop.


___________


Their prisoner was surprisingly unfazed by the chaos going on around him, and he looked around the landing craft thoughtfully when he entered- four armed ponies at his back.

Sunshine looked back from the drivers seat, and covered the microphone he had been barking orders into. "Put our friend in one of the seats. Rona, you stay here and watch him. Sentry, Frosthorn- take up a position on the third floor and pick off what you can. Macintosh, second floor- shoot whatever you see," he ordered, and got back to it.

Flash turned, and was brushed aside by Big Mac rushing forward and up the stairs.

"He's rather eager!" Mary shouted, tailing Flash up the same stairs.

"I think he's in his element!" Flash returned, and holstered his rifle, instead holding the crossbow.

At the third floor they both rushed forward to the end and slid to a prone position. Mary took a second to douse the flames behind them magically, no sense letting the building collapse on them. Below Big Mac was firing bursts, and Rona was taking shots from the vehicle. The noise was near deafening.

Flash looked through his scope down the range. It was sheer chaos out there, with more landing vehicles milling around and firing. Two of them had been lost, and lay in flames just outside a hanger, from which explosive shells kept coming out of. Flash could just barely see some sort of large tripod weapon inside. He fired a bolt at it, watching it whizz through the air in an arc before digging into the concrete just below the emplacement. 

The gunner noticed, and shifted to point it at them. Flash could see him clearly now, an armoured griffon. He was too late, and the last thing Flash saw from him was a look of horror as Mary's fireball blasted the ground, incinerating everything for a half dozen meters. The hanger itself collapsed, sending dust into the air.

He looked for another target, and found a group of griffons ducked in a trench, trading shots with a group of marines a few dozen feet away in the open. He fired another bolt, and the trench became a burnt crater.

Then the guns stopped.


___________


The group of MPs and bridge officers came onto the main deck, and quickly scattered when a volley of bullets met them. Northstar slid behind a box just outside the door, while one of the MPs ran for the other side. With a crack from somewhere down the deck, he dropped.

Northstar swore and glanced over to see what they were dealing with. A ways back a dozen griffons were behind cover trading shots with a group of pinned MPs, two of which seemed wounded.

Mary considered her options, and spared a glance over her cover. She squinted to see something coming up from behind.

It was a Wonderbolt wing, and it was coming fast. The griffons didn't seem to notice. She saw their guns light up as they approached, and a split second later the deck was torn to pieces as the Wonderbolts did their run, a rainbow shimmering above them for a moment.

The MPs cheered and rushed forward, picking off the remaining Griffons behind their line. Northstar sighted and shot one of them, and quickly ran the bolt to shoot a second. In moments ten of them lie on the torn up metal of the deck.

"Northstar! Let's go!" Pike said, and leapt over his cover. She followed, and he led her to one of the hatchways that led to the lower decks. 

The MP went first, followed by Pike and Northstar. He was their shields, as grim as it was- it was a part of their new reality.

"Reactor is about a hundred meters down from here," Northstar said, quickly running down the stairs. Pike nodded, and took the lull to replace some spent cartridges in his pistol. 

When they reached the bottom of the stairwell they quickly dashed into the hallway, and Echo closed the door behind them. Then it was silent. Deafeningly silent. Northstar checked her magazine by sliding the bolt back- two rounds.

"Alright, form a circle and let's move up slowly. I'll bet anything they got down here, but they don't know where anything is," Northstar ordered.

The MP took the lead, and Echo took the back. Pike was beside her, with True Shot just ahead of them and the others behind.

"I didn't expect it would go this far, I thought the Magnificent was invincible," Clear Skies noted.

"Nothing lasts forever, but you can bet she'll get us to Wings Reach if we take good care of her," Northstar returned.

Pike shot up an arm, and they paused silently. Ahead footsteps echoed through the hall, so they all crouched down and aimed forward.

A pair of griffons came out of a side hallway ahead, and they fired all at once at them. What bullets met their mark ricocheted off the thick armour, impacting harmlessly against the wall.

Then they charged, with their flamethrowers spewing fiery death down the hallway as they ran. The group continued firing, but the fire didn't stop.

Click.

Click. Click. Click.

Northstar tossed aside her empty rifle, and found a last-ditch salvation.

"Wings! Use your wings!" She shouted, and lifted slightly into the air with her wings pounded it forward.

The rest of the bridge crew followed her example, and the flames approaching slowed. Northstar stared ahead through the roaring inferno at the grimacing griffons trying to press forward through the whirlwind.

She beat her wings harder, and harder, putting every ounce of strength she had into it. The fire started to reverse, and as a group they pressed forward.

The griffon realized what was happening, and the last expression his face ever made was one of wonderous horror- before the flame backed up into the weapon itself and it exploded, tossing the bridge crew backwards like ragdolls with a last explosion of fire, incinerating its host utterly.

Northstar felt a horrible burning pain, before her vision turned to black. Then there was no more pain.


_______________


One Hundred Fourty Two Hours into Operation Bronco


Flash strode amongst the fiery ruin that was the airfield, hundreds of of Marines quickly converging on it, amidst scattered shots here and there from a griffon hold outs. The size of the griffon casualties was enormous- not a single one had surrendered. Even when cornered, out of ammo and hopelessly outgunned, they never surrendered. The loss of life was massive, and utterly insane. They had barely lost a dozen on their side, Spitfire's plan had worked absolutely perfectly- combined with an apparent lack of supplies on the other side. Routing their resupply fleet days early had taken its toll, from what they could tell the griffons had been subsisting off stolen trail mix the last few days.

Thankfully they didn't appear to eat ponies, at the very least that convention had survived, for now anyway.

Above them the Magnificent hung like a monolith, shadowing them with its colossal size. Here and there a hole in it belched smoke into the air, it had taken quite a beating over the last week.

"This High Martial, why is he doing this? Look at all the losses, I don't understand." Mary wondered, trotting beside him.

"For people like him Mary, it doesn't matter. He'll kill his entire species if it means more power for himself, history is littered with beings like him. King Sombra, Emperor Riovelli II, they all end the same way," Flash said.

"We're going to add High Martial Galvon to that list, just wait and see." 

Flash looked around, and spotted a landing airship. It took a lot of effort to get the drop ships back up, they had to be hauled one by one by airships back to the Magnificent. 

"Sentry! Flash Sentry!" One of its crew shouted, flying off the deck.

Flash released Mary's hoof and flew up to meet him. "Sentry here!" He shouted.

The pony- a Wonderbolt wearing a torn up uniform- flew towards him. "Report to the Magnificent's infirm-"

Flash thought faster then that, and was already shooting upwards before he could finish. A million horrible possibilties ran through his mind, and it seemed to take forever to cross the distance between the ground and the hovering ship, despite the fact he was moving so quickly that he burst into an orange streak. He shot over the deck, and darted through the buildings on it for the infirmary building at the other end. The first thing he noticed was the scorch marks and bullet holes all along the deck.  

All the crew saw was an orange flash that sped across the deck with such speed it sent debris flying on the floor, generating a cloud of dust and discarded shells in its wake. The flash slid to a halt before the infirmary, and darted inside.

Flash glanced around, a few dozen injured Wonderbolts lay on a few dozen beds, moaning with pain as nurses tended their wounds. A few were burned, a few were shot, and Flash didn't give a damn, he ran up to one of them.

"Where's Captain Northstar?" He asked frantically, his heart pounding in his chest.

"Now hold on Sentry, c..." 

Flash pushed her aside and made his way to the other end, his eyes darting around the beds looking for his mother. The further he went, the greater his desperation became as he passed dozens of ponies.

"Sentry!" Someone shouted behind, he glanced back to see a blue unicorn with a pair of MPs at her side.

"Where is she doc!" Flash shouted back, having come to the end of the room, where a curtained bed lay. 

"Sentry!" Tulle shouted again, Flash drew black the blinds and to his horror saw not his mother, but Spitfire sleeping there.

"For Celestia's sake sentry!" Tulle yelled, as Flash felt two arms grip his tightly. 

"Where is she!" Flash demanded, gripped by fear and desperation.

"Sentry," Tulle said, stepping before him. "She's in her quarters, I knew you would come and I need to calm you down first."

Flash released a sigh of unquantifiable relief.

"Follow me," Tulle said.

Flash followed her- the two MPs staying close, as she led him out of the infirmary. 

"We had a hell of a time up here Sentry, griffons boarded us," Tulle said.

"We saw that from the ground, casualties?" Flash asked.

"Four, we got lucky. Griffons had this absurd idea of using swords and flamethrowers," Tulle said, and with a heavy sigh opened the door to the officer quarters building. 

Flash held his tongue until they arrived at the room marked Captain's Quarters. Tulle beckoned the MPs guard the door while she led Flash in.

Flash rushed past her to come to his mothers side, she lay in her bed attached to a familiar series of tubes and bags. She was covered almost entirely in bandages, and fast asleep.

"She's lucky, only second degree. I'm afraid General Pike didn't get off so lucky, he's going to lose his arm," Tulle said.

Flash didn't even hear her, he lay his head on his mothers chest and wept.


_____________


With Captain Northstar, and Air Martial Spitfire, and General Pike all injured (Pike being taken care of by his own medics down on the island) wrapping up their time at Waylay Island fell to Leftenant Echo. She took her position, and on a lark decided to call Canterlot.

"Canterlot? Come in Canterlot," She said into the radio.

"Who is this, and how did you get this frequency? Misuse of Night Guard communications frequencies is a felony."

Echo sighed. "This is the T.M.S Wideflank, who is this?" she asked.

There was a pause, and a hushed conversation on the other side. "Wideflank? Wonderbolt Fleet? You've been calling us on a different frequency for a week, last message was to send resupply to uhh..." Whoever it was trailed off, and Echo's ears perked up. Something was different now.

"... Hold on, something is wrong. It says in the log supplies were sent to Waylay Island a week ago, and then again a day later. I checked the registry, and it was the same ship- but they can't move that fast. What's going on over there?"

Echo really wished she hadn't been the one to break through, and winged it.

"What can you tell me about a stallion named Archer?" She asked.

There was another pause, and then a crackle of static before a different voice came through.

"Wideflank, this is Malgavian. I assume you've been speaking with somepony named Archer, yes?" he asked.

"That's right, he kept blocking our communications," Echo replied.

"Okay, here's what we're going to do. I want you to contact the rest of your fleet, and return to Canterlot with whatever you can spare under radio silence. Buzz frequency 4625 KHz with the password Half Moon to get through the coastal defences. Once you're back on our territory we'll fill you in on what's been happening," he said.

"What would the ETA be?" he asked.

Echo thought hard about it. The Magificent couldn't move under her own power, and required those two destroyers acting as tugs to get anywhere, at this speed it would take two weeks.

"Three weeks," Echo replied.

"Run into some trouble did you? That's fine, we can wait for you. Do not call Canterlot again until you have passed the coast defences, as far as everyone knows you're still at Waylay, understood?"

"How can I trust you?" 

"You can't, but you don't really have a choice here. We're having problems out here, problems that will make your life out there impossible unless you come help sort them out," he replied.

The line cut to static, and Echo sat back in her chair.

Clear Skies was at the helm, and the tarp had been replaced by a series of metal plates with a slit for him to see out of.

"Set our heading for Equestria, full ahead. Dash Wing comes with us along with 1st airborne, and six gunships, the rest will stay," Echo ordered.

"Aye Aye, heading for Equestria," Clear Skies repeated, and the ship slowly turned towards the west.

"We're coming home," Echo said to herself, and trotted to the board.


Monday September 1st, 1001.


Equestrian Marine Corps Status: 18806 Operational, 856 Injured, 2226 KIA or MIA


Wonderbolts Status: 6 Capital ships, 23 frigates, 32 corvettes. 17 lost.


Weather: Clear skies, visibility perfect.


One Hundred Fourty Eight Hours into Operation Bronco.


Echo reached up and pushed a button beside the clock.


Fleet Victorious



	
	
	

	

	



	

	
> Intermission: Cover Stories
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

	The last week for Queen Luna had been brutal. Everything was going right to pot, all over Equestria. Malgavian had reported that apparently Archer had managed to extend his treason as far as Waylay Island, and that the Wonderbolt Fleet was steaming back home silently. She had postponed today's security briefing so that Field Martial Armour could arrive, along with Princess Twilight Sparkle. She had some news for them, and it was going to break their hearts. 

It needed to be done however. Outside that meeting room, Luna waited for her sister- always the first to arrive. It was time to create a cover up, for a cover up, to hide the truth. 

She paced as she considered her plan.

Tell the population the war was going well, and that the military buildup on the continent was a drill.
Tell the military leadership the war was failing, and to put all effort into preparing for invasion.

The true purpose was not a drill, nor was it preparation for invasion. She needed the military at full readiness, Mezza Luna and Archer still both remained at large, and the Hollow Shades had gone silent. Entire company sized units of Night Guards had been seen moving, but by the time her loyalists could arrive they vanished. The purpose of the military build up was to prepare for civil war.

Luna sighed, she had been on the other side of such a battle a thousand years go. Back then it was her, using the cover of night and her fanatic Night Guard to strike at the government. It only took three days for her to secure every major city, Celestia barely had a military at all back then- that was Luna's job. It was a quick coup, but she lost in the end anyway. For the better, as she had learned since then.

Luna knew how Mezza Luna thought, how she planned, and how she would act. She had set a trap for her, using the bait of a meeting of changelings next week. That target was far to sweet for her to pass up, and it coincided with the day the Magnificent would finally come home. Mezza Luna thought it had been destroyed, she was in for a surprise.

She paced back and forth before the door to the room, deep in thought. When all this had started she had expected to be fighting one enemy, on one front. Now she had to manage the traitorous elements in the Night Guard, discontent within the civilian population that was building over some damn manifesto, and-of course- the actual war. 

"Luna, you're going to dig a hole in the floor," Celestia said, startling Luna with a hoof on her shoulder.

Luna turned and smiled, it was good to have her here, now. The one pony in the world she truly trusted.

"Sister... you remember in our youth, we used to... talk?" Luna said, and her eyes began to shine dimly.

Like this?

Luna cringed at the effort, Telepathy was hard- especially to one whom hadn't done it for so long.

Celestia's eyes came aglow as well.

Why?

Everything I am about to say is a lie, to you I entrust the truth. The fleet is victorious, and they are coming home. Her eyes hear everything, and the Magnificent is my instrument of Half Moon's destruction. Trust me.

Luna's eyes stopped glowing, and a hoof shot up to her forehead as a fire burned in her head. 

"I trust you," Celestia said simply, and pushed open the door. She took her sister under her wing and led her inside. 

Luna nodded, and shook her head to clear it. "We're getting too old for this, we can't save them forever," Luna said, and took her place at the end of the long table- beside her sister. She may be Queen, but she still loved, and respected Celestia.

"We won't have to, you're not the only schemer around here," Celestia said, smiling warmly- as always.

Luna relaxed, her sister had that effect. Equestria might rapidly be falling apart, but Celestia's smile could calm her even so.

Luna took a moment of her time to embrace her sister, and as she released her the newest addition to the nation- Duke Wildcard- strode in. He had the swagger of a pony that had more wealth and power then he knew what to do with, hopefully he would prove a better leader for his people then Chrysalis- which wasn't a very large challenge.

He probably weighed as much as her anyway, Luna had reminded him of his boot camp appointment every night for the last week, which appeared to greatly annoy him- which greatly amused Luna.

"Good evening Duke, you look well," Luna addressed, smirking.

Wildcard bowed, just enough to call it that, and took his own seat near the end of the long table. "Good evening, I have to say I'm worried why you've called us all here, I've never known something like this to be good if it's in secret," he said.

Astute as always, which was perfect. "You'll find out once the rest arrive, but you are... on the right track," Luna said, and put on a face of cold stoicism.

Wildcard settled in, Luna let his mind run wild with possibilities. He was smart, even if a bit full of himself- amongst other things.

A few minutes of silence later his wife, First Class, arrived and ambled over to her seat beside Celestia. Luna had, by this point, pretty much put management of Equestria in her hooves, and she was incredibly capable at the task. Recruitment was up 50%, she had reformed the farms into a more efficient collective- except for the holdout in Ponyville, and she had seen the old trains replaced by Crystal Imperial trains. One day she was going to run the country for real, everypony saw it.

"Good evening your Highnesses," she said, and then smiled across at her husband, "Wildcard."

"First Class," He said, bowing his head- notably lower then he had done so for Luna.

"So, big secret meeting, I don't suppose we won the war?" First Class asked.

"No."

The Zebra Ambassador- a rarely seen figure in the castle, always watching from the sidelines- arrived next. Luna and Celestia both stood and bowed, they desperately needed Zebra support in the south, so all efforts were made to show their respects. "Good evening, Ambassador Vizitane," Luna addressed.

He nodded, and took his seat beside Wildcard- whom barely noticed him. "Good evening your Highnesses, I don't suppose you're going to ask for our aid again? If so I have some news for you," He said.

"And what would that be?" Luna asked.

He sat back in his chair, and stretched his back and arms. "As of oh.. 1600 I think? Our forces crossed the Dune River, and have directly engaged the Saddle Arabian 'self defence' forces that annexed the port of Kazahkbarad. We're at war, your highness, and we aim to win," He explained.

"We killed every last one of them by 1800, Saddle Arabia is going to burn for disrespecting the Empire," He gloated.

"What does this mean for your contribution in the south?" Luna asked, worriedly.

"That means we're going to do what we always have, and defend Snowy Cove. No more, no less, just as promised," he replied.

Luna glared at him. "You promised you would attack with tens of thousands!"

Vizitane laughed. "Your highness, please- if it isn't written, it never happened. The only thing written is our promise to defend Snowy Cove."

Luna wanted more then anything to strike the insolent zebra, sneering defiantly at her. Her sisters hoof on her shoulder calmed her, and she remembered that he was right, and at the very least the Zebra's defence of Snowy Cove had split the southern forces in two.

Almost immediately afterwards Princess Twilight arrived. She had been working on some project out in Ponyville, it was costing thousands- but she had the right to do it. Something about radio waves...

"Good Evening, Princess Twilight," Luna said, and pleasantries were exchanged as she took her seat.

She seemed off in another world, probably continuing her project even here.

Finally, Field Martial Armour arrived- his wife was staying in the Crystal Empire. There was a rumour going around that they were going to attempt to secede, the fact the Crystal Imperial Legion hadn't been deployed yet- instead being kept for 'home guard'- was a rather chilling sign of that possibility. Even so, Armour as as loyal as they came. He sat beside his sister, and finally Luna began the meeting proper.

Luna took a deep breath, and spoke.

"I have called you all here tonight because I have some bad news, in fact I dare say this news is terrifying, and it will force us to change how we think about this war," Luna said, and paused to allow some time for their minds to draw conclusions.

"The Magnificent has been lost, along with the entire expeditionary fleet. There were no survivors," Luna said.

The audience gasped, Celestia as well.

"Luna, this can't be true- Spitfire wouldn't let this happen!" Celestia exclaimed.

"Spitfire is as mortal as any of us, as far as we can tell she was ambushed on her way to Waylay Island by a fleet of griffon ships- all armed with missiles. There was no escape, but her last transmission did say she got most of them," Luna said, and stood.

"We need to prepare for the worst case scenario. We need to prepare for invasion."

Armour stood up, and looked at her with the fierce eyes of a warrior. "We can strengthen the coastal defences, fortify the home guard and redouble our efforts making new weapons. When they come, we'll put them through a meat grinder- inch by inch," He said.

"I can complete my radar project, and with it we can see them coming from hundreds of kilometres away," Twilight suggested.

"Good," Luna said. "Devote any and all resources you need, nothing must be spared to defend Equestria. We had hoped to avoid this scenario, but here we stand.

"Armour, I want the bulk of your forces redeployed to Filly Delphia- tell the public this is a drill, the announcement will be made in two weeks," she ordered. Armour nodded, and left the room.

"Twilight, continue your research. If this thing really can do what you say it can, it will give us an important edge," she said, and Twilight departed as well.

"Wildcard... do as you said you would, and take control of the changelings in Equestria. They could be an important asset," Luna said.

"... and you're still due at bootcamp in a week and a half," she added.

Wildcard groaned, and slid out of his chair. "I'll get it done, I should be all set next week, " He noted, and left, closing the door behind him.

"Now, Vizitane..." Luna said, and sat back down. Vizitane hadn't even fidgeted. 

"It's a lie," He said. "The Magnificent is steaming back home right now," he said.

Luna couldn't hide her shock, and glanced at her sister. How could he possibly know?

He tapped on the table to get Luna's attention back. "The Magnificent had engaged with Saddle Arabian forces on Waylay Island a week ago, they had an air squadron there as part of a deal they made with the griffons. The only reason they aren't at war with your right now is because we took advantage of their deployments pointed at you to declare war on them," he said.

"Believe me, had we not been so aggressive over the last few weeks the Magnificent really would be lost, they had an entire fleet out there- but were afraid to commit," he added.

"Wait wait wait, hold on- you're telling me Saddle Arabia wants to pick a fight with us now?" First Class asked.

Vizinate nodded respectfully. "They do indeed, and why wouldn't they? Combined with the griffons they could wipe you off the map," he said, and crossed his arms.

"Still not satisfied with our 'contribution'? The Empire moves when it satisfies the Empire, and I promise you keeping Equestria safe satisfies us greatly," he said.

Luna was utterly taken aback by all of this. Thankfully neither First Class nor Vizitane were likely to be security leaks.

"I misunderstood your position, I apologize," Luna said.

"I accept your apology," Vizitane said, and got up to leave, "and I assure you that when the Zebra Empire expands across the entire continent, and across the seas, there will forever be peace between our peoples. Remember that," he said- quite ominously, and left the room- pausing to bow towards First Class.

Luna fell back, and sighed deeply. "That was unexpected," she said, and glanced over to First Class, expecting some sort of interrogation.

"Oh no, don't think I'll argue. If you're covering this up, I'm sure you have a good reason," She said, and paused to consider.

"Ah! I've got it!" She exclaimed. "You need to raise the home guard, to counter Mezza Luna,  but you don't want anyone thinking you suspect your own Night Guard of being, how should I put it... totally insane? So tell everyone the Magnificent was lost, and when she comes back not only will the armies be marshalled, but she'll be here to drop hell on Half Moon," she said.

"That's why you want troops in Filly Delphia- it's south of the Hollow Shades, that must be their stronghold!" she added. "I had noticed they had stopped paying taxes recently, I was going to bring it up tomorrow."

Luna gave up, and just slunk into her chair. "You really are First Class, I swear, you're going to run the country someday."

First Class blushed, and then stood with her chest stuck out. "First Class, first Prime Minister of Equestria," she declared.

"Prime Minister?" Celestia asked.

First Class looked back at her. "Of course! Democracy is the way of the future. we could only ever follow yourselves as monarchs, you saved us from Discord after all. If anyone else is to lead, they must be elected by the people," she said.

Celestia glanced back at her sister, a wide grin on her face, and a glow in her eyes.

You're not the only schemer.
> Intermission: A Talk with the Doctor
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

	The next morning, having concluded her planning for the next week, Luna took some time off. Today she was finally going to speak to that stallion that had been captured in Manehatten, and had been languishing in a deep dark cell in the Canterlot Dungeon for quite some time. 

The dungeon was quite new, and officially called the High Security Foreign Alien Containment Prison. It was designed and built after the changeling invasion made the government rethink the caverns below the castle. They were lit up, guarded, and re-explored. Now they housed the most secure prison in the country, designed entirely so that changelings wouldn't be able to enter or leave, even disguised. All guards were to work in pairs, and it was required that one be able to fly in order to cross the underground crevasse to the entrance proper. Guard duty was to be split between rotated Centurions, and Night Guards- their mutual distrust would ensure a state of constant paranoia.

As an additional measure, each and every person once inside wore one of the magic dampening medallions the changelings were required to wear when on their own. It was fool-proof, although Luna knew full well no prison was impenetrable. The fail-safe was to have the Canterlot Waterfall pour through and drown everything if there was ever a riot.

All this planning and construction had turned out to be for nothing however, only a skeleton crew looked over the prison now, but perhaps with the current chaos it would find itself used. For the last week only one of it's cells had been filled, by a single guest, guarded by a dozen police acting as the caretakers for the prison.

Luna flew across the deep crevasse, and landed on the other side, the guard watching the great steel door glanced at her as he read a newspaper, sitting in watchpost, and then came to attention a few seconds later when reality caught up with him.

"Good Morning your highness, this is an unexpected honor," he addressed from behind the thick glass window, fumbling with his untidy uniform.

"Good afternoon," Luna said- wondering if they didn't pay attention, of it was a result of never seeing the sun- "I require entry to the prison."

The guard reached down and produced a medallion from under the counter, sliding it out through a hole in the glass to Luna.

"You'll need one of these, and..." He pulled a clipboard hanging from the roof, "... I'll need you to sign in," he said, thrusting that out too.

Luna threw the medallion over herself- the security of the prison did rely on everyone wearing one, at all times, afterall; and ran down the list of dates to sign in. There was one other entry, a few days previous.

Her sister.

Luna hastily filled in her own name, and shoved it back through the hole to the guard. Worldlessly she gestured at the door, and it slid open as soon as he pulled a lever. The door swung open, and Luna darted inside the concrete hallway of the prison itself, another checkpoint a few meters ahead.

Which was long since abandoned, it's door left open and the checkpoint itself empty. Luna sighed, and stepped past it into another concrete hallway, lined with doors that led down other hallways down the maze like series of tunnels and cells. Like any good prison it was designed to any would-be escapee would quickly find themselves running in circles in an attempt to escape- to the point where there were signs pointing to an 'exit' that was actually a dead end. 

For ten minutes Luna took her time walking through the eerily silent corridors, each leading into identical corridors with identical flickering lights. Once and a while she would pass a checkpoint or a distracted guard that seemed more worried with their hobbies- one of them appeared to be working on an impressive structure made of cards, carefully adding to it from behind the window of yet another unlocked checkpoint.

Which Luna toppled with a gentle push of wind from her wing before striding past.

The guard looked at her, hurt, and then slammed his head on the desk groaning at his lost creation.

"Twelve hours! Twelve hours!" He lamented, rolling his head on the desk.

"Maybe," Luna said, stepping through the door, "if you had locked the door, this wouldn't have happened."

Luna continued on, finally passing into the darker corridors of the 'secure wing'. That last checkpoint was the dividing line between the regular prison and this place, and now cells lined the walls. Each had a thick steel door with nothing more then a glass viewing hole to look inside, a basic toilet, and a single bed. This is where they had planned to house Chrysalis' leaders if captured in another attack, and remained a way to house any changelings that broke the treaty- although that had only happened once. 

At the end was the last cell in the prison, the centurions had followed her order to throw him into the 'deepest, darkest, cell' to the letter. A guard sat at a desk outside, scribbling something in a book with his hooves up on it. His uniform was hung on the chair, making his cutie mark- that of a book with blank pages open- visible. On the desk was a placard- Chief Prose

Luna approached him silently, curious to hear what he was mumbling about.

"...overpowered protagonist? I could just make him fat in act two, that could work. First act needs some touching up... perhaps add another chapter here- maybe a dialogue. This entire scene is too early, needs to come later. What about his wife, if I were to k-" 

He noticed Luna approaching, and jumped out of the chair in surprise throwing papers around in his haste to come to attention.

"Your highness!" He shouted, saluting sharply as papers rained to the floor at his hooves.

Luna glanced at one, which seemed to be the title page for something called 'Self Insertion', and looked back at him.

"Chief, open the door," Luna ordered.

The chief reached to where his pocket would be, and then blushed when he realized he was out of uniform.

"I uh, I apologize for my poor uh..." He stammered, rummaging through the uniform over the chair, before quickly pulling out a set of keys.

"Just open the door," Luna sighed, shaking her head at the obvious incompetence.

"Yes ma'am," ge said, and stuck a key into the door.

It was the wrong one, so he tried again.

And again.

At the sixth try Luna stopped him, putting an impatient hoof on his chest. "Give it here," she ordered.

He meekly offered the keychain, and backed off. Luna looked at the door- A22, and then to the keys.

They were all B1-44.

"This is the wrong set of keys you fool, I'm getting tired of this incompetence!" Luna shouted, tossing the keys back at him.

She peeked through the glass, and saw the prisoner lying in his bed. She wasn't a monster, he had been provided with food and books to read, one of which he was reading now by the light of his horn.

Chief Prose coughed, Luna turned and tore a different keychain from his hoof and unlocked the door before tossing it back at him.

Luna swung it open, and the middle aged stallion- although supposedly only 25 years old he certainly looked older- with a grey coat and white mane, sighed and closed his book.

Luna stood in the doorway, glaring at him. 

"So, is this a release or an interrogation?" Flankenstein asked.

Luna shut the door with her hind leg, and continued glaring down at him. "The first depends on the second," she said, and took off her medallion.

"So then," Flankenstein said, sitting up on the side of the bed. "Ask away, but I'll remind you we're both in the same position- I've made some bad decisions in the last.... forever," he lamented.

"I know this full well, my question to you is: why?" Luna asked.

"For you, of course. I can't remember the end of our relationship, but I can remember the beginning. I remember those long nights staring at the moon, I remember you would even take me flying, and we once explored the dreamscape together," Flankenstein said.

Luna desperately tried to make sense of all this. She had no memories of these events, they had been stolen from her by this... wretched creature. 

"For me, you say, but that's dodging the question. Why in my own name would you see fit to steal my memories, memories I can never regain through magic or any amount of effort? You've stolen so much from me Doctor, why?" Luna asked, her voice beginning to shake. 

"Because, Luna, I am a fool. Then, I was a fool in love. I tried to use science to solve my problems, blind to the actual consequences of doing as such. It's a mistake I repeated recently, and it's led me here," Flankenstein said.

Luna, strode to the other side of the room, and looked at the pile of books on the floor. Her face contorted with conflicting emotions. On the one hoof she wanted to hang this stallion, and she would be just in doing so- he had after all willingly participated in treason. Yet she also needed to know why he had met so much to him in those months lost to her. She could have any stallion in Equestria, why him?

"Why was my sister here?" Luna asked, staring at the pile of B rate fiction. 

"She offered me exile, but I refused. I've run from my mistakes too long, and it's cost too much," he replied.

"I can never forgive you," Luna said, turning to face her nemesis. He seemed to helpless, so innocent- even tired.

"Of course, I don't think I can forgive myself either. I had everything, I had you, and now I have nothing," 

Luna glanced away, a tear suddenly in her eye. Why was this stallion having such an effect on her- she had risen to become Queen, and yet here she shed a tear over a stallion that should be hung for his crimes.

Then she felt a glimmer of why she had fallen for him. He was imperfect, but beyond that he didn't see her as the Princess of the Night, he saw her as Luna. Last Nightmare Night she had felt the icy sting of fear still in the population. To them she had been like a legend suddenly come to life, a fearful memory of a mythical terror. He had seen past all this, and loved her for what she truly was. Not trying to change her, or make her into a lighter Luna, he accepted her for who she was.

Perhaps there was room in her heart for one last love, but not today.

"You will be released," Luna said, and turned to look him in the eyes- suddenly brightened.

"But I want you to stay far, far, away from Canterlot. If I want, I will contact you, never contact me."

Flankenstein nodded, and came to beside the bed. "It's more then I deserve," He said.

"I am quite aware of that, but I think it's best if we both act as if you died in Baltimare, and move on with that in mind," Luna suggested, slinging the medallion back over her neck. 

"Well I was an asshole, I'm glad I died," Flankenstein joked.

Luna couldn't help but smile, and knocked on the door. Chief Prose fumbled with his keys outside. 

"He didn't actually lock it," Flankenstein said, and pushed the door open from Luna's side- the shocked 'chief' hit with it.

"I've got some reading to finish, goodbye Luna," Flankenstien said, and trotted back to his bed.

"Dos Vedunya, Flankenstein," Luna said, and glanced to the 'chief'.

"Allow him to leave at his leisure," Luna ordered, and departed down the hallway without another word. 

	

	

	

	

	

	
> Intermission: Research and Development
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

	In the noon sun of Ponyville a dozen armoured ponies quickly took apart a metal monolith outside the town library, watched over by a purple alicorn that fluttered amongst them. Behind the library was a line of factories, pumping out vehicles as well as a thick black smoke that wafted into the distance. Thankfully for the citizens of Ponyville, they lived upwind.

"Be careful with that!" Twilight shouted anxiously, pacing the air back and forth- carefully watching over everything.

A dozen of Celestia's 'centurions' (Who honestly looked more like they came out of a painting than a proper fighting force- how could they possibly move quickly in all that armour?) were packaging up Twilight's first operational RADAR. A metal grid, on the top of a metal pole. Earlier today she had tested it at low power, and was able to detect a flock of geese flying south. The device was quite simple- it only transmitted and received radio signals in one direction, and could only tell the distance of an object- not its size or height. It was still a huge milestone, and today she was going to move it to the coast. If she could accurately spot the patrolling airships from Baltimare, then it was ready. 

They needed this technology now more than ever, Luna had a few days ago informed them all of the loss of the Wonderbolt fleet. That loss meant the enemy was coming here, soon. If the RADAR worked they would have early warning of where exactly they were heading for- the Equestrian coast was huge, knowing specifically where they planned to make landfall could shave hours off the response time, and save thousands of lives.

Spike was already there, having gone on the morning train. His duty was to scope out a position high up, and with a good view of the sea. 

Twilight looked solemnly into the distance. Baltimare, it was a name everypony knew, and a name forever marked in history. It's where the war had begun, with the shocking and brutal attacks by the Griffons seemingly coming out of nowhere. The city was a ruin now, just a burnt out husk of its former metropolitan glory. A few of the refugees had returned, but there was nothing left for them there, so they generally just went straight to Filli Delphia, which now had a large slum where the dockworkers lived. 

Perhaps after the war they would rebuild Baltimare, but for now it was dead. The perfect place to test a device like this, since it required a significant amount of power to get any real range.

In her pocket was that power- a sliver of Alicornium. The whole kilogram stolen by the Night Guard and used in Manehatten had been recovered, and was at her disposal. Ten grams of it was enough to power a long range radar nearly indefinitely. Whether her design could handle this power remained a question, a question she wasn't about to answer in a populated town.

A pony by the name of Trotsky had become quite interested in Princess Twilight's developments. He was the stallion that had built these factories, and he was the one that had designed the armoured fighting vehicles they churned out. Mass production, something new to Equestria, had allowed him to provide the legion with nearly a thousand light tanks in a month. The designs were flimsy and basic, but until somepony designed better it's what they had. He had commissioned engineers from across the country to provide better, but it would take some time for anything to come of that. His cutie mark was that of a hammer, his original job had been a smith- before the war. When it started he realized production was too slow like this, and designed the first mass producible rifle- now in use by the dozens of thousands. He was able to take a design, and find a way to make thousand en masse, that was his real calling.

He stood beside the library, watching.

"Do you think it will work?" He shouted up at Twilight.

Twilight glanced back at him, and flew down. "Do you think it won't?" She returned, after a moments flight.

"It doesn't matter what I think. You're the engineer, if you're confident enough in your project you can make it work eventually- that's what makes an engineer- never giving up," Trotsky replied.

"Well, I do. It might take time, but it will work," Twilight said.

"Good," Trotsky said, and gestured to the line of factories noisily working behind him, "so when can I start building them?"

Twilight eyed him suspiciously. It was obvious this was a pony after power- he stood to be in control of nearly all of Equestria's industry after the war, and she was no fool. 

"As soon as I say, and the designs will remain my own, this project is a state secret Mr. Trotsky, I won't hand it over to you so easily," Twilight replied.

Trotky bowed. "As you wish, the nation is in your capable hooves," He said, and a clanking noise from afield send Twilight hastily flying back to her project.

"For now."

Twilight flew back over, finding that one of the centurions had simply clanked his armour with that of his comrades, and that the radar was all packed up- rather neatly, to Twilight's delight- in a wooden crate. A large wooden crate, about the size of a motorized carriage. That was one of her options for getting the radar moved to Baltimare, the other was much more simple.

"Well, you know what to do now," Twilight said, gesturing to a dozen yokes, all roped up the box.

The group of centurions obediently hooked themselves up, levitating something this large that far would be taxing even for the Princess of Magic, and to be quite honest she liked the small perks that came with power, ever careful not to overdo it.

Having a dozen stallions carry a box for you across half of Equestria? Why not. 

"Alright colts, to Baltimare we go," Twilight ordered, and they formed a nearly perfect grid over the box as they started off.

Twilight could, however, lighten the load. With a faint glowing of her horn she did, and the centurions visibly relaxed. 

Reward the good, disparage the bad. It's what Luna had taught her, and it worked quite well. Celestia had taught her about friendship, magic, and leadership- but it was Luna that really taught her how to lead. Those few weeks in Canterlot prior to the last Summer Sun Celebration had been quite enlightening. 

She also learned never to play chess against Luna, she was utterly unbeatable. Even when one thought they had the upper hand against her, it was always just a trap. Luna was a strategic genius- she had after all taken the entire country in a week a thousand years ago, striking with her Night Guard. It was a little bit of oft-ignored history- but important, and Twilight had greatly respected Luna after discovering that fact. Celestia was the greatest peace-time ruler a nation could ask for, and Luna was an unstoppable force.

So where did she fit in?

A dozen hours of flying later, with a short break in the middle to eat some grass and drink from a pond, they arrived at the outskirts of Baltimare. Pausing at the outskirts, Twilight looked towards the city. She was perpetually awed by it, there had never been something like this in modern history. An entire modern city, with tall buildings and rows of small houses at the edge- abandoned. The centre of it was burnt out and ruined, a few of the tall buildings leaned uneasily, and a few were little more then skeletal carcasses of what once was. The evening sun looked down on it all, with an eery silence throughout. The only ponies that really lived here now was a small garrison overseeing a missile base on the outlying island.

Twilight lit her horn, and sent up a purple flare blazing into the sky. A few seconds later a second orange flare shot up from one of the many buildings ahead, and Twilight gestured towards it. 

"Onward colts, we're almost there," She said, and they set off on the last leg of their journey.

There was nothing quite like calling a dozen centurions, heavily armoured and chosen specifically because they looked intimidating 'colts', it was a joy Twilight allowed herself as often as possible.

Soon enough they flew over the outskirts, and found the downtown building that Spike had designated. He had become her runner over the last few months, and was as capable as any. In fact he seemed to have become more and more sure of himself as the number of outings increased. 

Twilight bade the Centurions hold position, and checked over the rooftop.

"Structurally sound.." She mumbled, looking over the building. It was high, with a view of the ocean, and seemed to be one of the more stable buildings.

"Good work Spike, and you can set that down now," Twilight said, and not a moment later the box lay on the roof.

They looked to her for orders, and she smiled warmly- something Celestia had taught her. 

"You have done well, find a place to sleep for the night and liberate some food from the garrison. If anypony complains, send them to me," Twilight ordered.

"Yes ma'am," they said as one, and with a dozen sharp salutes they flew off towards the outlying island.

Twilight turned back to the roof, her box being tenderly opened by Spike- which of course meant each panel was slamming to the ground.

"Careful with that Spike, it cost a good amount of bits to get all this together," Twilight warned, and landed softly beside him.

"I know," Spike said, and loosed the fourth panel, "I helped build it."

Twilight smiled, and started levitating the parts for her machine together. The transmitter itself was basic- no more then a skeletal radio transmitter really, but what it connected to was the important part- a 'vacuum tube' powered device with a glass screen. This was all state of the art technology, thankfully the pre-war boom in television manufacturing allowed for quickly getting her hooves on this screen, it was a little more complicated than those. 

Once she had it assembled, she inserted the alicornium rod into the red box at the base of the transmitter. It was ready, all she had to do was crank a handle to angle the transmitter towards the ocean.

A further development was to add a motor allowing it to spin and thus cover the whole sky at once, but that was for later. For now she just wanted to prove detecting of objects invisible to sight was possible.

"Are you sure it's ready?" Spike asked.

Twilight put her hoof on the switch to power it on, beside it a lever controlling the amount of power in the transmitter.

"If it's not, you know what to do, right?" Twilight asked.

"Run?"

"Exactly."

Twilight flipped the switch, and the display came on with a dim green glow. It was marked for distance- with the theoritical maximum  being 40 kilometers from the ground. Putting it on a high altitude airship increased that geometrically. It was even feasible to build a transmitter with a thousand kilometre distance, but the effort required for such a thing would require a feasible test of the theory first- it would cost millions to build after all.

"I'm going to run it up to full power, is the patrol where it should be?" Twilight asked.

Spike nodded, staring at the dim green screen. "I asked before, should be about twenty kilometres out now."

Twilight put her hoof on the lever, and took a deep breath before slowly moving it upwards. She had only ever run it to ten percent before, using alicornium to directly generate electricity was a relatively new concept- the Magnificent relied on indirect generation through boiling water. Twilight had it directly connected to an electrically enchanted stick of tungsten- something nopony had tried, since the risk was seen as too great. She did the calculations, and the metal was probably strong enough to generate the electricity without melting, or exploding, or releasing a huge surge of electricity at everything nearby.

She pushed the lever down all the way, all or nothing.

"That was abrupt," Spike noted.

"It's all or nothing Spike," Twilight said, and carefully watched the red box that contained the alicornium. 

Nothing happened there, and the screen became more vibrant as the transmitter started working. Twilight was relieved immensely.

Ping.

"There it is! Twenty kilometers!" Spike exclaimed, excitedly pointing at the screen.

Twilight strode over, and watched it with a great grin.

Ping.

"Fantastic!" Twilight exclaimed, and flapped her wings with enthusiasm.

It was working, Twilight couldn't see the ships out there, watching the coast...

Ping.

...but she could hear them.

Put one of these on the Magnificent, powered by its reactor, and the war would go decidedly differently. Heck, put one on a plane! Put them on islands! Nothing could escape the peering eyes of science!

For ten minutes the pings continued, both eagerly watching, and then they stopped.

Twilight sat, and watched the waves on the screen go out, never returning, as the ships had crossed the covered area. By now the sun had gone down, and the moon was peeking over the horizon. Twilight sat and stared at it. Luna's moon, Celestia's sun, Twilight's...

"Spike, am I good Princess?" Twilight asked.

Spike was rather taken aback by the question, and opened his mouth several times thinking of a proper answer.

"Yes," he replied, and sat beside her.

"How do you know? What have I done that truly makes me a good leader, a good ruler, a good princess?" Twilight pressed.

"You defeated Sombra, Discord, and like, twenty other bad guys. You've averted disasters, made new magic, and you have a pretty good singing voice," Spike said.

Twilight giggled and tugged him close her wing. "I do, don't I? But where do I fit as a Princess, what's my role in all this?" She asked, and gestured to the moon.

"Luna has the night, and she's a warrior. Celestia has the day, and she's a diplomat. Cadence runs an entire Empire... and I have a library," she said.

"Well, it's a really well organized library."

Twilight sighed. "That it is Spike, that it is."

Ping.

"Spike, was that the radar?" Twilight asked, releasing him from under her wing.

Spike waddled over. "I don't th-"

Ping.

Twilight got up and darted over, watching intently.

Ping.

Forty kilometres, something was out there, and the patrol probably couldn't see it in the dark twenty kilometres away.

Ping.

"Spike, get on my back," Twilight ordered.

Spike did so, hestiantly. "Shouldn't we alert the guard?" He suggested.

"There's no time, we'll go see what this is and..." her horn sparked in the night "... deal with it, if need be," She said, and leapt off the building with her dragon mount.

She soared down towards the ground, and sped through the buildings towards the coast with incredible speed. She had gotten rather good at flying, although nowhere near the level of a Wonderbolt. If she knew specifically where this 'ping' was she would've just teleported over, but all she knew was that it was forty kilometers ahead.

She had used her alicorn powers before, and by Celestia she would use them again if it turned out griffons were out there.

"Hold on Spike!" She shouted over the sound of the roaring wind, and flew out over the ocean. 

He held on, almost painfully tight, as the water zipped past below. The waves underneath became a blur, and seemed almost like they were cruising over a mirror. Baltimare fell into the distance, and disappeared behind the horizon while the moon rose ahead.

It took around ten minutes before Twilight guessed they were approaching their destination, so she slowed her speed- mindful of the wake she was leaving, stupid pegasi magic giving her a glowing purple trail- and soared upwards. Ahead as she flew a huge black object was silhouetted by the moon. Twilight paused to look at it, it looked like a huge battleship, floating in the sky with a dozen or so smaller ships flanking it on either side. She flew directly towards it, magical power charging throughout her body, sending small purple arcs around.

She approached it, and nearly fell out of the sky when the moon highlighted its enormous central structure, like a huge steel balloon attached to a half kilometre long ship, with it's name in scarred white paint on the side. 

H.M.S Magnificent.

She stared at it, confused, and apparently it stared back- a spotlight shone in her face nearly blinding her, and a siren sounded on it followed by dozens of other lights coming to life all over it, and the vessels nearby.

"Twilight, what's go-" 

"REMAIN IN YOUR CURRENT POSITION OR YOU WILL BE FIRED UPON"

Twilight encircled herself with a purple magic field, and covered her eyes from the glare of the spotlight to look forward. A dozen black figures were approaching fast from it.

"It's the Magnificent, Spike, but Luna said it was destroyed..." She said, and braced for the word possibility- Spitfire a traitor?

"FOLLOW WONDERBOLT FLIGHT WING, DO NOT DEVIATE FROM THEIR PATTERN"

Twilight was quickly surrounded by the figures, and one of them flew directly at her- but seemed to slide in the air, nearly falling out of the sky when it came closer.

"T...Twilight?!" A familiar voice stammered.

"Rainbow Dash!?"

The black figure continued forward, and then became bathed in the light of the spotlight with her. Rainbow Dash, in full flight armament with huge guns pointing out from under each wing. A figure Griffons had taken to calling 'The Painbow'.

"Follow me Twilight, we can talk when we're aboard," Rainbow said, and beckoned she follow.

Twilight nodded and took her tail, while Rainbow mumbled something into her headset.

"PRINCESS ARRIVING ON DECK"

Twilight grinned and relaxed, dropping her purple shield and following Rainbow around and over the back of the ship. Even from out here it was obvious it had gone through hell and back- there were dozens of holes all over it, including a much larger hole where it looked like a pair of guns belonged. Most of the holes appeared to be patched up by... doors.

Doors, doors welded all over the side of the ship like some bizarre abstract painting. 

"Rainbow, Luna said you were lost, from the looks of it she almost seems right," Twilight noted.

"You should see the other guy!" Rainbow said giddily, and winked back at her.

"We won Twilight, Spitfire is going to be glad to see you," Rainbow said.

Twilight realized something at this moment, which was a confusing thought- she had never actually considered Rainbow to have been lost, despite the fact she knew full well her friend was on the fleet. She had been so caught up with her work she hadn't thought about it. She wasn't sure if she should feel bad about this, or what exactly.

So she was happy enough to just be glad she didn't need to deal with that eventuality at the moment.

Rainbow flew onto the main deck, and quickly directed her wing to go wherever they were to go with a quick waving of her hooves. She landed with Twilight, and Spike slid offer her back- and kissed the Magnificent's deck.

Twilight wasted no time and tackled her friend with a hug, sending her and that weapon clattering to the ground.

"It's so good to see you!" She exclaimed, holding the rainbow maned mare tight.

"It's.... good... to... see... you... too..." Rainbow gasped.

Twilight giggled, and released her. "I guess I don't know my own strength."

Rainbow undid the clasps to her weapon. "I'll say," She said, and then spotting something came to attention and saluted.

"Ma'am!" She addressed, and Twilight turned to look down the deck.

The deck was lit by spotlights, or what could jokingly be called a 'deck'. It was more like a jagged length of metal with broken boxes littering it, one would have to be careful of their footing up here. Then she looked at Spitfire herself, limping towards her.

Her jaw dropped, Spitfire did not look well. An arm hung in a sling, heavily bandaged. Her uniform was torn in several dozen different places, and even in the bright spotlights her coat was clearly less vivid than usual. She limped over, and nodded to her subordinate.

"At ease W.C Dash, you're dismissed," Spitfire ordered.

Rainbow lowered her salute. "Thank you ma'am," She said, and mumbled something into her headset.

"I'll see you later Twilight, I'm in barracks seven if you're still around," she said, and departed down the deck.

Twilight smiled, and looked back to Spitfire. She came to attention when she noticed her glance.

"At ease Spitfire, this isn't an official visit," Twilight said, putting on Celestia's patented 'disarming smile'.

Spitfire sighed, and shifted where she stood. "I'll say it's not, you aren't even supposed to know we're out here," She said, and stepped aside for a giant earth pony to collect that gun.

"Why not? What is going on out here, you look like you've been through hell," Twilight asked, watching Spike out of the corner of her eye poke at a bag full of trail mix.

Spitfire sighed, and beckoned Twilight follow her down the deck. "We won Princess, but it came at a price. We lost a lot of good ponies on that island, and almost lost it all because of some damn bat named Archer," she said.

Twilight's eyes flickered with fire for a moment, which Spitfire noticed.

"So you've met?" She laughed.

"You could say that, but why did Luna report the fleet lost?" Twilight asked, feeling Spike speed to her side.

"Apparently you're having some problems with the Night Guard, so Luna has had us coming back on radio silence. We've gotten a few one-way radio updates, and she thinks we're going to arrive a week from now," Spitfire explained.

"Of course, this raises the question of how you know we're out here," she added.

Twilight grinned. "Spitfire, what do you know about radio waves?" 
> Arc: Quietly Into the Night I
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

	Morning in Ponyville, and everything was perfectly fine. The trees had turned beautiful shades of red and orange, and the crisp autumn air heralded an earlier winter than usual. Thanks to Luna's rationing, and strict control of the farms, the population had no worries however. They were content, if worried. 

Except for Wildcard. He was tired, and every muscle in his body hurt. He had been up doing drills since six in the morning, and while Celestia's sun did help with the chilly September winds, it also meant that all his recently added 'insulation' was basting him in his own bodily juices. He was uncomfortable, sweaty, and every push-up was a reminder of the fact he was fifty pounds heavier than when he had first come to Equestria. He was alone in this training session, and the instructor- whom he was shocked to find out had been a school teacher of all things- complete with a cutie mark of smiling flowers, which were totally invisible under her uniform- was giving him some personal attention.

By sitting on him.

Welcome to Bootcamp.

"Ten..." He grunted, and flopped down like a changeling-shaped noodle. 

The muscles were there, but by Celestia they hadn't done much for the last few months other than support him as he went from sitting, to eating, to sitting, with a brief interlude to fly across the country- followed by more of the same.

They were not happy.

"Ten, are you serious? Sweet Celestia..." Cheerliee mumbled, and stepped off the gasping changeling. "Luna told me this would be a challenge, but you're supposed to be a trained warrior, not a corpulent noble!" She shouted at him.

Wildcard rolled over, gasping for air. It felt like the damn officers uniform- which at this point looked somewhat like a grease stained paper bag- was suffocating him. 

"I... suppose..." He took a deep breath, "... it comes with the title," he breathed.

Cheerilee sighed, and stared at her subordinate. Officer-Recruit Wildcard, she was given three weeks to get him in shape.

Cheerilee was a confident person, optimistic, and never one to back down from a challenge. Looking at the somewhat pathetic lump of a stallion, whom apparently somehow managed to gain the respect of Luna- just how was beyond her- she thought of reconsidering those ideals.

Wildcard caught his breath, and sighed. "I did it, I let myself become a fat noble," he mumbled.

Cheerilee sighed as well. "You sure did, and if we have any chance at getting you back into fighting shape, we're going to have to get... aggressive," she said, and took a notepad out of her pocket.

"Starting today, you're on a diet. You're going to eat trailmix, and drink water- nothing else. You're going to show up here at six AM every day- except the next two days." She ordered, and tore a paper from the pad- allowing it to flutter down atop Wildcard.

"Why the reprieve?" Wildcard asked, as he picked the note up with a wobbly hoof.

It was a very strict diet, with a note added that the Ponyville and Canterlot police had been advised to arrest Wildcard if he attempted to work around his ration. On the one hoof he felt somewhat honored to be receiving all the personal attention- obviously Luna considered him an asset.

On the other he had quite fond memories of pie, and cider, and how it flowed from an unceasing tap. Government dinners, state functions, security meetings, personal meetings, contracting meetings...

Sometimes he would just go out for dinner with his wife...

"Because you apparently have some sort of press conference tomorrow, and it''s imp... hey!" Cheerilee kicked him, and he was painfully removed from his daydream. 

He rubbed his rib, and rolled back over on all four.

"Right, pulling together all the leaders..." Wildcard took a deep breath, and stuck out his chest in an attempt to look somewhat proper. "Duke Wildcard, Leader of the Changeling Nation.'

"You look like an idiot," Cheerilee said.

Wildcard coughed, and glanced at her. "Oh please, I can make a suit look good," 

"Wildcard..." Cheerilee said, and adjusted her own uniform. "... the point of a suit is anypony looks good in one," She said.

Wildcard just grinned at her. "So you agree, I do look good in a suit."

Cheerilee sighed, and felt like her soul was trying to tear itself out. "Thirty laps!" She shouted, gesturing towards the track behind her.

Wildcard trotted over, buoyed by his success. He started down the track, and despite the hurt from his complaining muscles he managed to keep a smile on his face. 

Still got it.


__________


Twilight stood on the bridge of the Magnificent, forty kilometres east of Equestria. Sticking out of the bow of the ship was her radar- powered by the Magnificent's reactor itself. It fed it's information to the monitor which had been positioned on the bridge beside Northstar's helm, an entirely new position that Twilight sat at now.

Radar Operator.

She beamed with pride as she powered it on, the bridge crew assembled behind her to see it work. 

"It's pretty basic," Twilight admitted, "but it's a start." 

The screen glowed dimly, Twilight fiddled a little bit with it to make the display work better in daylight. Rainbow Dash had been sent out an hour ago, and was running a zig-zag pattern out there- much too small to be visible.

Ping

"There, ten kilometres out," Twilight said, gesturing at the screen. 

The bridge crew craned their necks over her to look out the window- which was now repaired. Twilight had been supplying them in secret over the last week, ostensibly to help her research in Baltimare.

"I can't see her, but the machine can?" Clear Skies asked, looking back towards the screen.

Ping

"It's a radio wave, bouncing off her, and then back." Twilight explained.

Ping

"So it can see things we can't, like a plane at night?" Clear Skies asked again. 

Twilight spun around to face the crew, quite pleased by curiosity of the flight controller.

"That's correct Leftenant, no griffon is going to get the drop on you ever again- or anypony else,' Twilight said, beaming with pride at her accomplishment.

Spitfire clapped.

They all clapped.

Twilight stood, and noticed she was taller then them, no- she loomed over them as the sun rose at her back.

Ping

Unknown to any in the room, the sun rose a little faster that day.


__________


Queen Luna bolted up from the throne, utterly shocked, and disappeared into a cloud of blue fog as she teleported. Her guards, rather uncertain how to approach this, shrugged and looked at one another.

"Lunch?" One asked the other.

They left the throne room.


__________


Celestia was visibly shocked as well, and paced back and forth in her office. Today she had been discussing how they would delegate construction of the huge amount of vehicles called for, but all that went out the window when she felt it. 

It

First Class stood by her side, entirely confused, as she gazed at the window towards the the rising sun.

"Are you... okay?" She asked worriedly.

Celestia ignored her, and simply stared out the window. Her horn shimmered a bit, and for a moment it seemed the sun paused in it's travels- just a moment.

"I thought we had more time..." Celestia mumbled, and turned back from the window.

Luna teleported in, scaring First Class out of her skin as she shouted at her sister.

"Sister! It's happened!" 

Celestia nodded, and looked back towards her younger sister. Long ago in times beyond myth or legend they had themselves discovered what Twilight had discovered today, but it had been no accident- they had been given their power over the heavens. Twilight, apparently, had skipped all this entirely. Celestia had long since suspected this, but wasn't really prepared.

One did not find that sort of power without coming under the gaze of... others. A being with the power to move celestial objects allowed to use that power unrestrained would be the end of everything, and there were those they all had to answer to in the end.

Others.

"She has been pushed recently, I did not foresee this war- or it's consequences." Celestia admitted.

Luna came to her, and First Class watched her- standing off to the side. She felt something in Luna, in her slow trot and expression that seemed to stare past Celestia as she took her sisters hoof.

She was afraid.

"You know what this means, don't you sister?" Luna asked.

Celestia held her sisters hoof in her own, and matched her worried expression. "I will do my part, and you must do yours," Celestia replied.

Luna sighed, and they both turned and looked out the window wrapped in each others wings.

"Eternity seems so long, but from the end... it seems an instant," Luna lamented.

"We still get to choose when Luna, that was the deal," Celestia said, and then they both turned to First Class.

"I suppose this one needs to be informed as well?" Luna asked, looking down on First Class the way a parent might look on a child, as they were about to explain the reality of the world to them- wondering if they could take it. 

Celestia took a breath, and her horn shimmered slightly. A moment later First Class slunk into her hooves.

"Later," she said, and ran a a hoof through her assistants mane. She would not remember this morning.

Luna paced the centre of the room. "So now we have a war to win, Twilight is ascending far ahead of schedule, and I plan to end this uprising tomorrow- what the hell happened to 'pacing'?" she complained bitterly.

"Chaos begets chaos- stability is like a house of cards, and somebody shook the table," Celestia said.

"They must have shaken it pretty damn hard."


__________


Finally, after six or so hours, Wildcard had finished the first days exercises. Cheerilee dismissed him with a reminder to stick to his diet, and so now he trotted on rubbery hooves towards the train station, his soiled uniform in a pack around his back. A quick dip in the pond had cleaned him right up, but the uniform would need some more work. At the train station he plopped himself down on a bench and waited for the next train.

Every muscle in his body hurt, but it was a good hurt. If he was going to take down Chrysalis, then by Celestia he couldn't go wobbling around like a tub of lard now. He had a responsibility to his people, and to his wife.

Thinking of her, he smiled to himself. She had never called him out on his... expansionism. She was perpetually supportive, and he supported her increasingly pressing involvement in the government, and attempts to learn magic, as much as he could. Thousands of bits had been spent on books- the textbook industry seemed to be a sham designed to siphon as much profit as possible off government education grants and student loans.

It didn't matter in the end. He respected her as much as he loved her, and every bit spent on honing her new magic abilities- she could now lift a single grain of salt- was worth it. Not only for the pragmatic reason of the fact it meant he was married to the most important non-alicorn in the country, but also because it made her happy.

That, in itself, was worth all of his wealth, ever last bit.

While he thought, and sat in the evening sun, he heard the tell-tale jingle of a changeling medallion. He glanced to the side, and saw a happy looking blue eyed changeling- with a cutie mark of a tree- take a seat beside him.

"Evenin'" He addressed, in a telltale drall similar to a certain farmer in the area.

"Good Evening," Wildcard said, "I'm Wildcard, and you are?" He asked, extending a hoof.

"Applecore," he said, shaking Wildcard's hoof, "and I know who you are- who doesn't?"

"I was actually on my way to see you in Canterlot, I wanted to talk to you before the meeting tomorrrow," He said.

Wildcard squinted at him, sizing him up. This was probably the leader in charge of the work crews for the local farm, one of the nicer jobs out her since Applejack was quite kind to the work crew. A few weeks previous they had encountered fruit bats, and dealt with them in a logical manner. When the townspeople- led by another famous face living on the outskirts- protested, it almost turned violent. Applejack had supported them, and Princess Twilight had intervened in the end. So if he wanted something, he was already coming from a pretty lofty position.

"Oh?" Wildcard asked.

"Well..." Applecore began. "... We pay 90% taxes to home, and if I'm reading into all this correctly, you don't get along too well with Her Highness..."

Wildcard put on a poker face and crossed his arms, it was rather clear where this was going.

"... So you'll want our support, but what can you offer? Your invitation only mentioned there would be a 'discussion' on our 'role'." he finished.

"I can make no promises, but think of it like this. If we stay here, then we'll be paying Equestrian taxes. The tax bracket for a middle manager such as yourself is... moderately lower. The fact that the workers happen to give you their money..." 

Wildcard shrugged.

"... Well that's just a bonus,"

"However, I would also ask a... small contribution, for the party," he added.

Applecore considered, and seemed to come to the conclusion this was all acceptable as he nodded to himself, then he turned back to Wildcard.

"I don't suppose that wife of yours... could give us a better deal?" Applecore asked. 

Wildcard shot him an angry glare, and behind the train whistled into the station. 	"Never, never, bring her into this. I will not corrupt the one perfect thing in this world just so you can have a few more bits," he growled, and pressed forward to loom over the stallion.

Applecore swallowed, and seemed to get the point. Wildcard silently gestured down the station, and Applecore just as silently left. 

Wildcard sighed, and put his bag back around his back. The conductor recognized him and allowed him aboard, taking a window seat in a mostly empty car. As the train ambled off a few minutes later, he began to consider if he really could keep First Class out of all this. Politics was messy, it was corrupt and it was a step from disaster at any moment. This was the nature of the game- Equestria had managed peace for so long because it hadn't played the game, instead ruled by a never-erring monarch. That chapter seemed to be coming to a close, and his wife was going to have to deal with reality eventually.

There was one thing that he was sure of, he would never do anything against her to further his political career. He would rather lose it all, and die penniless in despair knowing still she was the same perfect soul he had met, then see her corrupted in his own rise. He was already dirty, but she was clean- and by Celestia he would fight to keep it that way.

Then he had a thought, a thought that horrified his very soul.

What if that's the cost to save my people?


__________


First Class awoke, somewhat confused, in Celestia's office. As soon as her eyes opened she sprung upwards, afraid that she had fallen asleep on duty. Desperately glancing around for her Princess, she found instead a note on the pillow she usually laid on.





Don't worry, everything is fine. Some complications have arisen, and both my sister and myself will be taking our leave early today. Take tomorrow off, we'll be quite occupied. If anypony requests an audience, refer them to Princess Twilight in Baltimare- I have a feeling that will shut them up.

-Princess Celestia.

P.S We need more tea.

P.P.S Move Princess Cadence's audience to next Monday.

P.P.P-





The last note ended in a scribble as if somebody had taken the quill from Celestia. First Class crumbled it up, and smirked as she dunked it expertly into the waste bin at the edge of the room. This wasn't the first time Celestia had taken leave for royal business- but there was the mystery of just what had happened this morning. The last thing she remembered was waking up.

First Class shrugged, perhaps they had been practicing magic and she had exhausted herself. She seemed fine, and she trusted Celestia, so without another thought she left the room into the palace hallway. Two guards immediately appeared out of nowhere and seemed incredibly relieved to see her.

"Minister!" One addressed, somewhat shocking First Class- it was rare she was called by her often ignored title, as far as most knew she didn't even have one.

"Yes, what is it?" First Class asked.

The pair of guards glanced at each other, and then the first spoke again. "Princess Celestia and p... Queen Luna are missing!" he exclaimed.

"Is the castle on fire?" First Class asked. "Is the Everfree going wild? Has Discord returned?" She pressed.

"No...?" He replied, confused.

"Then do you need a Princess to dress you? Keep doing what you were doing before, and they will return tomorrow," First Class ordered.

They both sighed with relief, happy to get any sort of direction. With a bow they departed, and First Class allowed herself a smirk before continuing on her own way. Soldiers needed order, and she was willing to give it to them, but the population itself was showing signs of starting to question the status quo, their order.

Their order being their dual monarchs, this war was unforeseen by everyone. The population was starting to wonder if perhaps they had gotten old, and their time was done. First Class knew Celestia well enough to know this wasn't quite accurate, but it wasn't entirely false either. Celestia's time was coming to an end, and her own time was blossoming forth. The population might not realize it at the moment, but they craved order as a soldier- they just needed to be convinced it was their own order. Democracy was not an alien concept to Equestria- all the mayors were elected, and a few times in history during long crises the country had a parliament with delegated powers- which had been dissolved in favour of Luna's rule, war was far too critical a thing to leave to committee. Even the most adamant supporters of a new system understood this- even Trotsky in Ponyville couched his discontent with admittance that any change could only happen after the war, but that didn't mean they couldn't plan- or plot as the case may be where he was concerned.

First Class had certainly been planning, although it was all theory at the moment. She had collected contact information of the mayors, made note of certain organizations within the towns- she certainly had a view from above here in Canterlot. When the time came she could spring into action, and a campaign like no other in Equestria's history could be launched.

She had once considered asking her husbands help in this, but that idea led quickly to evil places. If she had to rely on changeling spies to win... was she really winning?

Of course... the alternative of losing wasn't much nicer. The thought of a stallion like Trotsky running the country, with all of his preaching about a world without a government, with the monied running the show.

Common good? Hah, the stallion had his money, and that's where his interest ended. He and a few other 'captains of industry' had been rallying around a pamphlet circulating in secret, First Class had read a copy once.

It was clearly insane, Pretense was quite possibly brainwashed by the Griffon king of whatever- Galvon. It read like a rant written in an asylum, full of absurd notions of a bizarre Darwhinnyist view of the world. It was everything Equestria wasn't.

So then, if she had to pull a few strings in order to prevent that sort of... person... from finding himself in charge?

She paused, stopping in the hallway to look out a window towards the countryside. Winter was coming fast, and it was going to be a harsh one without pegasi oversight- but perhaps they were better off for it. They had lived in total peace for so long, controlling nature itself and living with every aspect of their world controlled. There had to be some middle ground between that, and total anarchy. 

That middle ground was her democracy, and she would see it flourish- even she had to dig out a few weeds in the garden. Staring at the setting sun over the countryside, she thought about that, about the future of Equestria- a nation founded on the values of friendship.

If she had to get her hooves little dirty to make sure those values remained intact through the chaos inevitably coming down the road at them, then so be it. Equestria was worth whatever effort it would require.


__________


The train ride lasted until just after sundown, and when it ended Wildcard had to peel himself from his seat in order to get off. He had been granted a day long reprieve, and it was just as well- he could barely move his sore body. Every bit of his body was in a state of numbed pain, but if anything he still had his willpower. This evening something was burning in the back of his mind, a little bit of curiosity, so before going home he decided to make his way to the police headquarters. Detective Stargazer had been friendly in the past, and Yang- the changeling guard still in Equestria- had refused to come back until he found his lost comrade Yin, The detective had been put in charge of finding him- but nothing as of yet.

He walked down the street, basking in the cool evening air- and noticed how much oranger the sunsets seemed. Canterlot was beautiful, and he had never really been able to experience it up close until recently- certainly not without hiding in the shadows. Today he strode down the street, relaxed amongst the few passerby that noted him only with a few kind nods. Things had certainly changed in the city, it still wore the bruises from a month ago. Life went on though, amongst the barricades and sandbags. Bored looking reservists manned a few posts- nobody seriously thought they would ever be attacked here, but better safe than sorry. It sent the important message across to the civilians too- don't forget we're at war.

Next to the police station- plastered with recruitment posters and reminders that discussing troop movements was treason- was the cities rationing centre. Even Wildcard had to get his food there, although First Class took care of it most of the time. They were entitled to a few more apples, and first pick of any vegetables that arrived, but that's were they're perks ended. Luna had been very clear that everyone was equal- under her. It definitely worked, current figures had every city with enough food to last ten months- definitely enough time for even the most horrible winter. The farms would continue working, although limited by the lack of pegasi keeping control of thin tracts of land, to supply the military. 

This meant that sometime around December the troops would be getting apples, while everyone else was reduced to potatoes and other long-lasting food. Wildcard didn't mind- they were fighting after all- but others definitely would. He had experienced thirty harsh winters in the Hive valley, but the ponies had gotten used to perfectly regulated seasons. 

Not anymore.

Stepping around the winding line up for rations, Wildcard stepped up the stairs leading to the entrance to the police building, and was stopped by a police officer at the top. He was a rather lanky looking stallion- all the stronger ones had probably been deployed.

However he had a gun on his hip, and his hoof was at it.

"Hold up, where's your uh..." He trailed off, and stared down at Wildcard as he thought.

"Medallion?" Wildcard offered.

He nodded, but didn't seem to appreciate the correction as he silently clicked the safety on his gun.

"Yeah? Where is it changeling? It's unlawful to be without it," He warned.

Wildcard met his gaze, and mentally prepared for the worst. "I'm a citizen, and for that matter I'm a duke."

The officer glared down at him, and Wildcard glared back up. Neither could give any ground without looking like a fool- which was the sort of thing that started wars.

Thankfully, not this time.

The officer sighed, and stepped aside. "Fine, but if anything goes wrong in there I'll have your flank." he warned.

Wildcard smirked. "If anything goes wrong in there, I'm your best friend," he said, and strode into the police station.

Inside he quickly found a bored receptionist, and trotted over to sign in. This wasn't the first time he had been here, and like every government institution everything required wading through paperwork.

"Name," The receptionist said in a monotone, tapping a clipboard on the desk without bothering to look away from her reading- a Daring Do book. 

Wildcard levitated the pen, and signed himself in. 

With that detail covered she tossed him a visitors badge, and he slung the lanyard around his neck before passing into the hallway beside her. Stargazer had the... basement, buried deep in the building.

A few minutes later Wildcard found him, at his desk beside the buildings boiler, surrounded by dozens of filing cabinets that represented the files Celestia ordered moved from inside the mountain. Celestia, Princess of the Night.

It was weird.

Wildcard opened his mouth to speak, but found before he could the detective had his head over the chair glaring at him, a hoof with a gun poking out of the side. 

He was a rather paranoid stallion. Wildcard simply waited for him to recognize he wasn't a threat.

"Oh..." Stargazer said, and lowered his weapon, spinning the chair around to fully face Wildcard. "... I uh- well you can never be too safe."

Wildcard knew the feeling well. "Don't worry about it, can't be easy living with the Night Guard over your head- now I came here to ask you for something," he said.

"Yeah? What's that?" Stargazer said, crossing his arms.

"That device you use, the... magic thingy," Wildcard said, awkwardly trying to think of it's name.

Stargazer reached over and opened a drawer in his desk, removing a 'magometer'. It looked almost like a gun, and had two antenna that poked out from the end, and a panel on the front with a dial and a single light- which turned green in the presence of a changeling.

It was glowing quite brightly.

"What about it?" Stargazer asked, waving it at Wildcard with a bemused look on his face, then he started laughing.

Wildcard cleared his throat and glared at him, wishing he was a worse person and could just beat him up.

"Hey duke, guess what you score?" Stargazer asked, when he had collected himself.

Wildcard continued to glare.

"Zero, it doesn't even think you exist magically," Stargazer said, and tossed the device over.

Wildcard caught it, and rolled his eyes. "Detective- I'm a changeling, we don't make our magic. Of course I score a zero."

Admittedly it bruised his ego to not come up as a ten or something, but the excuse was solid.

"It's still funny, now did you need that for something?" Stargazer asked.

Wildcard nodded. "If you would allow me, I want to borrow this for a day," 

Stargazer shrugged. "Just bring it back in one peace."

Wildcard put the small machine in his bag. "Thanks," he said before departing.


__________


First Class trotted down the lane to her home, humming idly while she did. It was a nice evening, and she was perpetually excited to get home after work and continue her magic studies. She had the weeks rations with her- managing to score some fresh carrots and a pair of apples. Despite her position she was of no more worth than any other pony, and she lined up with them to get her fair share. 

She couldn't help thinking of Trotsky while she walked. He clearly thought he was better than anyone else, and eventually he was going to make a play for power. He owned vast amounts of industry, and seemingly came out of nowhere with it. The scant information she had is that he was the engineer son of a banker, and used his inherited fortune to buy and modernize nearly half of the countries meagre factory infrastructure. He had now doubled that, and more or less everything milled from steel in the south came from factories owned by him. Equestria was no longer totally dependent on the Crystal Empire for it's heavy manufacturing, but it was dependent on him now.

Not much of an advance. Thankfully Luna had been wise enough to prevent him from buying the dockyards in Filly Delphia, declaring them a 'strategic asset'. First Class had quietly applied the same rule to a few other factories here and there. He didn't know it, but she was already fighting him.

She sighed, and opened the gate to her estate. Life had become complicated, and the power brought responsibility. She had an estate, which meant she had to manage the estate. She had more political power, which meant she had new rivals. 

Closing the gate, she felt a bump in her abdomen and giggled, smiling happily as she remembered the good in her life. She was carrying a foal, something that she would never have expected a year ago. It was a happy surprise, and she knew he- or she- would grow up with two loving parents into a new world. A foal could do a lot worse than Prime Minister for a mother and leader of the changelings for a father anyway. A new life was growing inside her, an image of things to come. The first foal born of a changeling and a pony without any secrecy or agenda- the first born of love.

She continued her humming and trotted along the cobblestone path towards the house. She kept the yard clean of leaves- it was a bit of work but she wasn't going to just stop living for nine months- and kept the hedges trimmed. In her spare time she had been building a crib for their foal as well, but getting her hooves on any amount of wood was proving hard. They were, after all, building an entire naval fleet, and ever more airships.

Opening the door she was relieved to smell that dinner was already being made, which smelled like stew. She trotted in and deposited her bags beside the kitchen table- taking one bag in her hoof, and found her husband watching some boiling potatoes over the stove.

"Evenin'" she said, kissing his cheek.

"Good evening, thanks for getting the rations," He said, and poked them with a ladle. Beside was a pot full of tomato juice and a few cut up steamed vegetables- and a strange black device.

"You're welcome," she said, and deposited a bag of trail mix on the counter.

Wildcard looked at her like a foal might look at his mother when she took away his candy, and she heard his stomach growl.

"Come on now Wild, where's that warrior spirit?" She teased.

"I think it starved to death," he sighed, and picked up the black device.

He pointed it at her, while she looked at him curiously.

"Well you're not a changeling," He said, and studied it.

"Obviously, I think we would b-"

Wildcard gasped, and ran it over her again.

"Well I'll be damned, you're an eight," He said, and handed her the thing.

He was right, the dial had moved to eight- which quickly flung itself back to zero as soon as First Class pointed it anywhere near him. A green light, helpfully marked 'CHANGELING' also came on, which just made her giggle.

"They only do these sort of tests on unicorns, and I thought it took a week to get a result," First Class noted, putting the device down on the counter.

"Technology is a funny thi..." Wildcard was interrupted in his speech as his stomach grumbled again.

He stared at the bag of trail mix, then at the pot, and then back and forth several times. Then he sighed, and grasped the bag of trail mix.

"The things I do for this country..." he mumbled, and grabbed the bag before wobbling off. First Class giggled again, and took his place as Watcher of the Potatoes.

She ate alone, Wildcard taking his leave to eat his days worth of trail mix out in the yard as he stared out at the sunset. If First Class had political problems, his were doubled. His situation was equivalent to her turning her back on Celestia in Saddle Arabia, and then publicly opposing her. They both realized it was in Chrysalis' own interests to not actually harm either of them, but the greatest folly one can make in politics is to assume the other side is acting entire rationally. Every animal pushed into a corner fought.

Once she was done, she packed up the- rather large- amount of leftovers and met him in the yard just in time to watch the moon rise over the horizon. She had a strange feeling that today had somehow been slightly shorter than usual, but that didn't make any sense. The thought disappeared, and she sat beside him on the dry grass.

A swift cold wind blew across the yard, and she shivered. "It's a little chilly out tonight," she noted.

Wildcard's horn lit up and bathed her in a warm green field, she smiled happily at him and he glowed green as well. It was an interesting state of affairs between the two, with her own magic flowing through him and back out to warm her, reminding her of why she loved him and increasing the magic. A self fulfilling cycle of love. He lay back on the grass, and enjoyed the feeling. His wife did as as well, and covered him with a wing. 

"We really don't see each other enough," Wildcard lamented.

They peered into each others eyes, and just enjoyed the moment.

"There's always tomorrow," First Class said.


__________


Under the cover of her night, her moon only barely visible through a cloud sky, Princess Luna flew with her sister close at her tail. Together they flew, towards the Everfree. Their birthplace, and once their home. They had left it a long, long time ago- but they were always connected to it. Tonight they had an important meeting there, below the ruins of their ancient fortress.

As they flew in the nights sky, Luna noticed how dark the countryside was. Normally there were a few specs of light here and there- but not anymore. It was illegal to cast light into the night in anything except an emergency for now- to keep up the illusion that she was suspecting an invasion. This didn't stop a single spec of light- from deep within the Everfree. This was their first destination.

This also had the effect of giving Mezza Luna free reign- which played right into Luna's hooves. Tomorrow Duke Wildcard was going to have his little meeting, and make his grab for power. Mezza Luna couldn't possibly pass up the target. She would strike, and Luna would destroy her- before she managed her objective, of course. Wildcard still had his uses, and seemed perfect for managing the home guard- so long as he got back in shape.

In any case, he was less megalomaniacal than Chrysalis- for now. Time would tell if he would just prove to be another insane totalitarian. Luna would not allow another Chrysalis.

That was a worry for another day though, and Luna led her sister down towards the dark forest. They quickly shot through the brush, and landed softly before a quaint hut in the middle of the forest. 

Zecora was, by all means, living there entirely illegally. She didn't pay taxes, most of her alchemical supplies had been stolen when she left the Zebra Empire, and there was a warrant out for her in her homeland. Celestia, however, was nothing if not a pragmatic leader- and allowed her to live here despite all this. Zecora remained, at the moment, the only person they trusted to make the potion they needed.

The reason for this is it was poison, and a rather potent one at that. Anyone but an alicorn drinking it would die instantly, and the ingredients could only be found in the province of Zebrica. Luna would make it herself, were these ingredients not banned- by her own order- three weeks ago. That they had been allowed for so long was a bit of a mystery to her- one apparently now solved. 

Luna strode up to the door to the hovel, with her sister at her side, and gently tapped at it. 

"Who goes there? Don't you be trying to make a scare!"

Luna rolled her eyes- always with the rhyming.

"Tax collection," she joked.

Celestia prodded her. "Be nice, she's done us no wrong," She whispered, and a moment later the door opened.

"Greetings to you, your majesties. What would have of me, as you please?" Zecora greeted them.

Luna looked past her, into the hovel she called a home. Rather small, she thought, although this zebra probably didn’t have much income. 

If she did, maybe it was time for the real tax collectors to pay her a visit, or maybe the police.

“We require your… alchemical expertise,” Luna replied.

Zecora nodded, and beckoned they follow her inside.

"My alchemies are in no short supply, but first tell me your reason why?" Zecora asked, gesturing to a pair of pillows on the far side of a bubbling pot.

She herself sat across from the pair, and gently stirred it, as the two graciously sat themselves. Luna noted just how many banned potions or supplies she had, it was almost like looking at an encyclopedia of contraband. 

“We need to…” Luna trailed off, trying to think of how she should phrase her request.

“We need to commune to the elements, we need to… open our minds” Celestia said, which seemed to get Zecora’s attention as she ceased stirring.

“We need the bitter truth, Zecora.”

Zecora grinned and sat back, obviously aware of the power she held over the oligarchs. 

“Why would you require under my roof, that which was banned by your own hoof?” Zecora asked, smirking at Luna, and continuing to stir.

“Miss Zecora…” Luna said, glaring at her, “It is of no business of yours what I.. what we want with this potion, we need it- and that should be enough,” she growled.

Celestia watched on from the side, slightly bemused by her sisters tone. It wasn’t a good idea to make demands when you had no cards in your hand.

"For this favor that you need, I request this land's deed.”

Luna’s face scrunched up as she realized, to her great chagrin- as well as Celestia’s bemusement- that she had been bested. 

“Very well,” She sighed.

Zecora smiled and sipped at her stew. 

“Would you care for some stew, while I endeavor to mix up your brew?” Zecora offered.

“Please,” Celestia said, and nudged her sister in the ribs.

“I told you to be nice.”

It took a half hour for Zecora to assembled the ingredients, and boil them in a seperate pot. She and Celestia shared some idle chatter while Luna retreated into her mind, sipping at the- rather delightful- stew as she pondered. Twilight had adjusted the sun- only minutely- but surely the elements had noticed. What would they say? She knew full well she had to ‘abdicate’ eventually, Twilight finally proving to be worthy- after a dozen failures- to receive that power. Even so, she had never thought of a world without that power. Her moon would be taken from her, but in the end... it was never her moon to begin with. 

When she had finished, Zecora poured the mixture- a purple fluid that she was very careful to contain- it was after all a potent poison- into a glass bottle. She then handed this to Celestia.

"Here is your potion, your majesties. Add a dab of your magic, and it will appease,” Zecora said, and then glanced past at Luna.

“For our deal do not forget, lest bad mojo bring you regret,” she warned.

Luna squinted her eyes at her, but let the threat pass. Celestia was greatly amused by all this, and strode out with her sister at heel.

"I told you to be nice," Celestia said as soon as they were outside, and started through the dark forest- their horns lighting the way.

Luna sighed, and rolled her eyes. "It's not in my nature sister, next time... you do the talking."

Celestia looked back at her, and lit up her face to make her smirking expression visible even in the pitch dark.

"Gladly."

Luna decided, while they walked, that she was going to take a break from the political terror she had volunteered for. She had quite enough of all this, and surely she could be more useful on the front. Her sister could...

This was some sort of 'lesson', wasn't it? Prove how difficult running the nation was, by allowing me to do so? Ohhhh that's good- but I won't back down that easy.

"Sister.." Luna said, grinning mischievously, "I think it might be best if you spend some time in the Empire, see if you can convince Cadence to support us more," she suggested.

Celestia continued forward through the dark brush. "This couldn't wait?" She asked.

"I think you should leave tomorrow."

Celestia shrugged. "Fine, it'll give me something to do anyway. Can we focus on the task at hand now, please?" She said, as they finally came within view of the monolithic fortress, their own home.

They approached it silently, both taken by centuries of memory. They were born here, in the Everfree Stronghold as it was once known- one of very few hold-outs against Discords tyrannical chaos. Luna had risen to lead their army, while Celestia had worked to uncover the truth of the Tree of Harmony. Together they had overthrown him and been gifted their powers over the heavens. Luna earned her cutie mark as head of the Night Watch, and Celestia hers for her 'illumination of the truth'. They didn't simply raise the sun or the moon one day as fillies. 

Luna looked down the cliff towards the cave that the tree resided in, and felt a shiver run down her spine. It was always creepy to try and communicate with it. She shared a glance with her sister, and flew down into the cave.

"If only it had revealed more the last time we were here," Luna said, her voice faintly echoing in the cave.

"I thought it giving Twilight our journal was enough?"

Luna sighed. "It was rather direct I suppose."

The tree itself was, as they approached, looming over them. It didn't have any eyes- it was a tree after all- but even so one could feel they were being watched by it. 

They were, of course. The six element carriers had thought they held the power, but in reality it was the power that held them. The elements chose who carried them. A thousand years they had disconnected themselves from her and her sister, since Luna herself was too 'rash' and Celestia couldn't- to them- be trusted with all the power alone. 

Rather ridiculous in Luna's opinion- who could they trust if not Celestia? Apparently the answer was a group of young mares, barely out of school. Why not the guard, or even herself?

Granted she did try to take over the world once, but the past was the past- was it not?

With that, she slammed into a purple force field- her sister on the other side.

Luna glared past her, at the shimmering tree. "That was a thousand years ago!" 

The field deepened, becoming almost opaque. Celestia trotted up to it, and with a hoof on it looked past her sister.

"It didn't seem to have a problem last time... I'm not sure why it does now," she said.

Luna sighed, and met her hoof on the other side. "Don't worry about it, I'm sure it has... some reason," She said, and turned he back on the force field. 

Luna plonked herself down, and played the role of sentry while her sister, despite her worries, turned back towards the tree. It hadn't done this before, last time it had been amicable to both of them- although it hadn't spoken long before discords chaos came back. Thankfully he was still in stone, and that was his last play for freedom. It had failed, Twilight had discovered the truth, and saved the day. She had really earned her title then, single hoofedly saving the nation.

Celestia sat herself down before the tree, and uncapped the bottle filled with the purple poison Zecora had made. The effects on it on alicorn ranged from telepathy, to heightened memory, to nothing at all. As near as she could tell, and Starswirl himself agreed- was that it tore down the mental wall seperating one from the outside of their own mind, leaving it open to foreign influence. This discovery is what had allowed them to contact the tree in the first place, and Twilight- despite not being aware of it herself at the time- had used it to communicate with the elements. They showed her the bitter truth, as they had once shown Celestia something similar. 

That was a story for another day however, and with a golden glow from her horn the mixture turned a milky white. Wasting no time, Celestia took a swig, and let the potion take hold.

Almost immediately her eyes glowed, and her mind was transported to a familar place. She knew it as Beyond, the place she had brought Twilight to reveal her true destiny. Now, however, it was utterly blank except for stars in the vast distance.

Before her a vision started to form, as white specs swirled to create a sphere. Celestia watched it, and became aware of the fact she had no physical form in this... whatever this was. It was rather disorienting at first, and her viewpoint spun around as she realized how hard it was to get your bearings without a body to be relative to.

The sphere became blue, and then the blue was set with green. Celestia recognized it as their world.

Hovering over it, on the sunny side, her cutie mark rose over the horizon.

On the other, the dark side, Luna's.

I'm quite aware of our role in things, where you going with this?

The area in the middle- Twilight- slowly expanded over the planet until it covered the whole thing, and Twilights cutie mark itself shimmered into being overtop the planet itself. The message was fairly clear- yield to her. A problem seemed to arise from this however, how could she be both the sun and the moon, the light and the dark? She couldn't be both, but she could be parts of both. 

The planet seemed to shrink- or else Celestia's being was being whisked away from it. A black cloud formed over the world, obscuring everything. Around this cloud, a second sphere- much smaller.

Celestia wasn't sure what to think of this. 

The clouded sphere shrunk again, and a gigantic third sphere formed. The first two seemed to be attached to it, spinning around.

Now this Celestia did recognize. It was long since said that the planet must logically orbit the sun- not the sun around it- but that was impossible, how else could she control it, if it didn't orbit them?

Unless that wasn't the real sun....

The fog clouding the planet vanished, and Celestia realized exactly what the message was. The natural order, long since interrupted by Discords chaos. 

Celestia and Luna had been tasked with returning order, and they had repaired the planet and it's people. It was time then, apparently, to pack that in too and return to nature.

The vision quickly reversed, and returned to the shrouded earth with both cutie marks. For a moment, it was peaceful. Then the sun overtook the planet- and it burned. Once the fire had subsided, Celestia realized the cutie mark blazing the planet wasn't hers- it was Twilight's.

It again reversed, and darkness took it. This time it froze solid, with giant pillars of ice flowing from the ocean into space itself. Again Twilight's cutie mark rose over it like a malevolent god. 

Twilight cannot follow either of exactly, I knew that.

Once again it reversed, and as before Twilight took over from the middle. Slowly, almost imperceptibly, the colours of planet faded. This continued untill it was an almost gray mass, neither living nor dead, neither light nor dark. Eventually, during what seemed like a mental eternity, it crumbled to dust. 

Stagnation? Celestia wondered. 

If Twilight receives, and refuses to give up her power... I think I understand.

She also understood something else, their roles in all of this. She was right- Twilight could be neither the sun or the moon. She had to be both, and yet neither. She had to be something new, a pony willing to relent on her powers, a pony that could receive the gift of nigh-godhood, and yet have the nearly impossible humility to return it when the time came. 

She and her sister could, but they had held that power for thousands of years. At this point they were both quite ready to give it up, so long as the world remained in capable hooves. Of course, what they both often failed to realize was it wasn't themselves that made that decision- it was the elements. 

They had apparently chosen, and with that the image vanished, leaving Celestia alone in the suddenly dark cave.

"So what did it say?" Her sister asked from behind.

"Not say Luna," Celestia said, getting to her hooves and approaching her sister.

"Show, and it showed us our path," Celestia said.

"Oh?" Luna asked, intrigued. "Where does this path lead?" 

"In a circle."


__________


The next morning, after a quick breakfast, and leaving a note with her exhausted husband; First Class held the morning briefing herself, finding neither Luna or Celestia had yet returned from... wherever they went. 

To an empty room.

Wildcard had slept in, understandable since he was officially 'on leave' at the moment for boot-camp, and Field Martial Armour never attended these much even when he was in town- today he wasn't. Spitfire was 'secretly' somewhere around the coast, and General Masse was busy in the south. This left her alone in the meeting room, flipping idly though heavily classified documents at her leisure. 

The Crystal Imperial Legion, totaling twenty thousand- which was incredibly considering the Empire's tiny population of a million- was deployed along their border with Equestria. Armour had, however, promised that it would pour in Equestria if the continent was invaded. 

She wasn't entirely sure if that was a good thing.

The Legion itself, Equestria's military strength, was deployed in a long series of trenches just south of the Changeling Hive. Sixty thousand of them, mostly recent conscripts. The leadership wished more than anything to send those sixty thousand out on the ocean, but the 'Confederacy of Independent States' kept prodding their defenses down there. It was a rather brilliant strategy- the griffons knew full well they couldn't allow that flank to fall, Canterlot was only a days march from there. 

Elsewhere, the newest Legion recruits were being formed into the Home Guard, which was centralized in Filly Delphia. Armour thought this was to ward off invasion- and it was certainly a good spot for it if so- but if one looked closely enough at Luna's orders the truth became evident.

For one thing, the Home Guard had bought a lot of spotlights, and had been drilling on night combat almost non-stop recently. For another there was the fact that a few bat ponies that Luna trusted had found their way into the ranks, and they would know best how to beat their misguided brethren. As far as the media knew, the blackout concerning the Hollow Shades was due to some classified project.

Somewhat true, if the 'project' was 'entirely taken over by traitorous elements we mean to draw out and crush'.

First Class flipped to the last page, the Canterlot Guard deployment for the day. 

"Oh no..." She breathed, and stared at the page. 

They were on high alert because of an imminent threat, but the usual measures- such as a lighting blackout- wouldn't be taking place. Instead it would be business as usual, if a heavily armed usual. The memo was to brief them all on a 'drill' that was to take place today, allowing them to fill the streets with soldiers and loyalist night guards- centered around the Changeling National Embassy.

Luna had set a trap.

Her husband was the bait.


__________


Eventually, long after the sisters had returned to Canterlot, and Celestia had risen her sun Wildcard awoke in his home. His home had around a dozen rooms, most of which were unused. They, of course, had the largest to themselves. He rolled on his side, and found a note on the night table beside the bed.




Duty calls, I'll see you at 5.

Trail mix is with your uniform, which I washed. 

You're welcome.

P.S Remember how you asked me to 'look good'? I went to Ponyville recently. You better believe your sweet changeling flank I'm going to look good tonight.




Wildcard sighed and put the note back on the table, slipping his groggy- and still quite sore- self out of his bed. Curiously, he heard what he swore was a barking at the door, and perked his ears to listen better while his mind woke up.

Bark.

Bark. Bark. Bark.

Knock Knock Knock.

"Wildcard, Wildcard open up!" A mare shouted.

Wildcard knew the voice, it was his secretary- Lyra. If she was here then...

He scrambled out of bed and stumbled out the door, bouncing between the walls of his home like a drunken pinball as he made his way to the door, tripping on the stairs to the main floor.

Dusting himself off, and trying to look dignified, he opened the door, finding Lyra outside in the blinding light of day, and a small dog yapping at her side. A small sheltie puppy it looked like. Adorable, if it weren't for the light burning his eyes and Lyra shouting something at him.

"...time is it?!"

Wildcard shook his head. "Sorry, what?"

Lyra sighed. "It's nearly noon, where have you been?" she demanded.

"Guess?" Wildcard offered, cringing at his impatient visitor.

"For Celestia's sake Wildcard- your resignation!" 

"Oh..."

"Oh!" He exclaimed, and spun around galloping back into the house. He darted into a side room and picked up a sealed envelope- addressed to Queen Chrysalis of the Changelings, TH001 Changeling Hive.

It had one line inside, on his own letterhead- From the Desk of Ambassador Wildcard.

"I Resign."

With it in his hoof, he quickly fixed his mane and strode back into the foyer, Lyra smirking at him.

"What would you do without me?" she teased.

"I would probably be dead," Wildcard replied, and took his coat off the rack.

"Has Equestria Daily been 'tipped'?" he asked.

Lyra nodded. "An anonymous source has told them you'll be there, doing 'something important'" Lyra replied, and stepped aside for Wildcard to enter into the world of the living daylight. 

He squinted his eyes, and started down the pathway of his estate, Lyra and her dog close at his side.

"Everything is set then?" Wildcard asked.

"You bet, it's gonna cost you ten grand- I spared no expense,' Lyra replied.

Wildcard grinned, he was going to treat his comrades to the time of their lives- and then he was going to seize the reins of power in Equestria. The changelings would answer to him, and Chrysalis would be cut out entirely. 

And there wasn't a damn thing she could do about it. 




	
	

	


	

	

	
> Arc: Quietly Into the Night II
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

	
At noon Wildcard made his appearance at the Canterlot post office, finding a Ponyville Express reporter waiting for him as he handed his resignation letter over to a familiar grey mare.

Lyra apparently wanted to give her home town a boost. Wildcard didn't mind- the story would spread like wildfire regardless. 

He had asked why Wildcard was there, and if the 'rumour' of his resignation was true. Wildcard had said simply this:

"It's time for my people to find a new path, come to the embassy at 5PM to learn more,"

He then flew off, the reporter that had been tipped off had been chosen precisely because he was a unicorn, and Wildcard was able to leave him in the dust wondering what was going on. Hype was building, and he knew that every reputable, and quite not, media outlet in the country was going to be represented tonight. Lyra Heartstrings would be putting her natural charm to use, hosting the assembled changelings and media until Wildcard himself arrived. He would arrive half hour or so after the rest, just enough time for them to wonder healthily what was up.

The clock struck five, and he strode out of his home, a carriage waiting at the end of the way. Sure he could have walked, or even just stayed at the embassy, but an entrance was a fine thing. A good entrance was a tool of the political class. To spoil the chance to make a good one tonight would be a crime.

One of many in his past, but that was of no consequence at the moment.

Wildcard trotted down the path, clad in a penguin suit he had made especially for the occasion- since nothing he had fit. Coco Pommel original, the thing cost five thousand bits alone. By Celestia he looked good in it.

At the end of the path, on the other side of the gate, his wife stood waiting. 

Wildcard opened the gate, allowing it to swing past himself as he found himself unable to find the words for what he was looking at. She was... exquisite?

Beautiful? 

Ravishing? 

Entrancing?

All of these words and more. She wore a black dress that accentuated every aspect of her perfect body, even her sizeable baby bump only added to her beauty. Around her neck was a pearl necklace, which was the colour of the scroll in her cutie mark.

She noticed how taken he was, and leaned forward to kiss him on the cheek. He glowed, just a little.

"Take a picture, it'll last longer," she teased, and winked at the changeling.

Wildcard collected himself, and without taking his eyes off her opened the door to their carriage for her.

"I'm trying, believe me," Wildcard said, and with a bowing sweep of his arm beckoned his wife enter. "After you, Prime Minister," 

First Class giggled, and entered the carriage. "Not just yet Wild, not just yet."

Wildcard entered and sat beside her in the roomy vehicle, on the comfy red seat.

"For now, let's dream," He said, and shut the door behind him.

"Driver, to the Embassy!" Wildcard ordered, and then the divider separating the passenger compartment of the carriage slammed shut, his wife grasping his chin.

"It takes twenty minutes to get there..."

She was on him before he even realized what was happening, and he knew that this: this love, this undying compassion, was worth dying for.

If he had to in order for the rest of his race to be free to experience it, then that was a fine thing to be remembered for.

He would prefer not to though.


_________


While the crew made the Magnificent ready for moving, Spitfire made her way down into the rear guest quarters, where their two guests stayed. Twilight Sparkle had been a remarkable boon to them, not only with her new radar technology having exceptional promise, but also managing to secure the parts they needed to repair the ships engines. She even requisitioned replacement guns- using her status to push it through the red tape. Nopony seemed willing to ask what a Princess wanted with a double-barrelled 18 inch cannon assembly. 

She had a room down here, with a nice view from the aft, but that wasn't where she was heading. It was another room, windowless and kept under heavy guard, that she set her sight on. Rossak, 'military attache', was residing there. He had been given a choice when he had been brought up: either come willingly as a guest, or come in the brig as a prisoner of war. Either way, he was coming to Equestria.

He was wise enough to choose the first, and Spitfire had made sure he was treated well. She wasn't quite sure what to do with him, but the Princesses would know.

Princesses other than Twilight, who had ordered her to bring him to Celestia or Luna. She had said she needed to 'read up on foreign affairs' when pressed on it. Twilight was a strange pony indeed. Spitfire didn't care that she was a good half decade younger than herself- Twilight had proven herself well enough. So long as the command structure worked- and it did- Spitfire didn't really fret where she was on it.

Being on top was preferred, but anywhere above where she was now would require politics. Spitfire hated politics.

Poltics however, were a part of her job. She stuck out her chin as she strode towards the quarters, putting on her best self-confident style.

She met the guards salutes, and opened the door- quickly closing it behind her. Rossak sat on a couch at the opposite side in the well furnished room, reading a book. 

Cosmic Theory in the Local Neighborhood: Twilight Velvet

Spitfire allowed him a selection of books, he was quite interested in the sciences apparently. Specifically he had an interest in astronomy and cosmic theory. He had asked for technical manuals and newspapers, but Spitfire was smarter than that. 

What he was doing on Waylay Island, specifically, remained a mystery that Spitfire had tried to solve a few dozen times, always getting nowhere. As far as she knew he was there as along with the griffon piloted Saddle Arabian airplanes, but whether he was some sort of technical expert, or a field commander, was unknown.

"Ms. Spitfire, a pleasure as always," he said, putting down the book, and smiling at her.

"Air Martial Spitfire," she reminded him angrily.

Rakkon smirked. "The Saddle Arabian state does not recognize the legal existence of your military, and thus your rank. To us, you are nothing more than a very well armed force of brigands," he said.

Spitfire pulled up a metal chair she had long since brought into the room, and sat herself down with arms crossed.

"You don't 'recognize' us, despite what you've seen of our force?" She queried. 

Rakkon crossed his leg, and continued with a cocky smile on his face ."Oh we recognize that you exist, but not legally. The Equestrian State has clearly been overtaken by Luna, and we must put it right- by destroying you."

"Nopony would believe that, it's insane- Celestia has publicly stated that's not the case!" Spitfire retorted.

Rakkon laughed, and gestured at her. "Sure she has, as far as you know. As far as our citizens know she hasn't been seen in months. The media is powerful thing miss Spitfire, and the council controls every aspect. As far as the people know, Manehatten was a terrorist attack by your own Night Guard, who blamed it on us to stoke war fever."

Spitfire stood, and pointed her own hoof towards him. "Ah! You admit you were behind that attack!" She accused.

"You, my dear, are free to believe whatever you want. It doesn't matter who did what, it only matters what the people think happened," he said, and picked up a second book.

"By the way, your military is joke. This is, what, the creation of a few decades? We've had hundreds of years," he said, and peered over the book at Spitfire.

"We're coming, Miss Spitfire."

Spitfire left after that, getting the feeling that anything more she said would be divulging knowledge to the enemy. She ordered the guards to permit no visitors, and to ensure the books he received were strictly dusty old science textbooks. At first she had hoped that by treating him well she would be able to avoid some sort of incident, perhaps delay Saddle Arabian involvement. 

Apparently that wasn't to be the case, and they had already made up their mind. The world was split by threes now- Equestria, The Changelings- for whatever good that meant- and the Zebra Empire. On other side was the Saddle Arabians, the Griffon Kingdoms, and the Confederacy of Independent States.

The tug of war couldn't possibly last long, one or the other would have to prevail. Spitfire knew they could, deep down, but the task ahead was certainly daunting. Add to all this the asinine Night Guard, and it was a wonder Equestria was still standing. 

Equestria stood due to a thousand years of momentum and good leadership from the royal sisters, she supposed. So long as they remained their anchor, Equestria would prevail forever. Even if Equestria was invaded, and they were pushed all the way back to Canterlot, they would prevail in the end. They were Equestria.

She thought about that as she strode along the deck, towards the con tower. What was she fighting for, really? She wasn't really fighting for Equestria- not lines on a map marking its existence. She was fighting for a return to a state of peace that had lasted for centuries, a state of peace maintained by the ruling sisters. Not Equestria, but what Equestria stood for- Friendship, harmony, and the two sisters. In the end, she supposed, it was they who she was really fighting for. Twilight seemed to be there chosen successor, and that was fine too. So long as Equestria had a strong central pillar, then Spitfire would be happy. There was an argument spreading right now if 'democracy' was better, to which Spitfire's opinion had always been 'no'. The princesses could make decisions on the fly, decisions that might be unpopular with the people as a whole, if it served the greater good.  Democracy would just lead to them voting themselves into a drunken stupor of no taxes and infinite government spending, legislating the menial while ignoring the serious. Why would any Prime Minister care about what happened beyond their own term? How was that better than Celestia, who thought in terms of decades and centuries? Democracy would destroy Equestria within generations, only the oligarchy could keep it steady forever. Even the mistakes that Celestia had made didn't dissuade her from this point- it had been Luna who had solved those problems. How would a democracy have handled this crisis- months of bickering in parliament? Fools, only fools would think running the nation that way was better. If Spitfire had her way, Luna would dictate everything- forever.

She didn't though, and arriving at the bridge she was reminded of her station, and her mission.

"Martial on deck," Northstar said, and vacated the commanders chair with a sharp salute.

"You're relieved, Northstar, take the helm and set course due west," Spitfire ordered, and settled into her chair.

"Echo, set condition two. Clear Skies, I want Dash Wing ready to scramble," She continued, and felt the ship move under her.

"Set a course for home."


_________


Queen Luna paced in her quarters, not bothering to take audiences today. She had that right, she had the right to do anything- the entire realm bowed to her now after all. She loved this feeling of power, and why shouldn't she? Just because she loved power didn't mean she was abusing it. She couldn't abuse it anyway, since it was he that decided what was right and wrong, and everything she did was most certainly right. Equestria was in top form, industry was booming and the military was on the march. Once this war wrapped up they would find themselves a world industrial power.

Being on top had its drawbacks though, the chief of which was worry. She was certainly the best leader the nation had, but even she hadn't experienced the sorts of problems they had today. Problems that seemed to be multiplying with time. When she ascended to take the throne for herself, she hoped to have this war dealt with quickly, and then return to peace a hero of the people. Finally the citizens of Equestria would accept her as they did her sister. Her failing, a thousand years ago, still haunted her.

Her own Night Guard, led by her former second Mezza Luna- popularly nicknamed 'Half Moon'- was now the biggest obstacle in her way. The war with the griffons was seemingly going well, and was fought in the open. Mezza Luna, however, fought in the shadows. The Night Guard for millennia been the watchers of the night, so the regular guard found itself helpless when the watchers turned on them. Luna's plan was to lead them into a trap, and destroy all the mutinous elements utterly. If this plan failed, it would lead to civil war. 

A long, drawn out, civil war that could lead to the collapse of Equestria. She had to strike now, strike hard, or lose it all. Celestia was in the Crystal Empire now, both to ensure that Half Moon couldn't touch her, and so that she wouldn't be around to stay Luna's hoof. The streets would run red tonight, the penalty for treason was high indeed.

Hearing a knock at the door, she halted in her pacing, and the door opened a tad for one of her Centurion guards to peek his head in.

"It's Malgavian, your highness," he said.

Luna nodded. "Allow him in."

Malgavian entered, and shut the door behind him as he bowed to his Queen. He, and the night guards that remained loyal to Luna, were all over Canterlot tonight. This time she hadn't had to lie about any drills, it was very publicly all to secure the city for the meeting of the changeling leaders at their embassy. Tonight Mezza Luna would most certainly strike, Luna had watched as she had been moving force into positions near Canterlot for weeks. To her, the prize would be too much. The changelings, Celestia, and the capital- all at once. Luna had known she planned to strike eventually, and by moving these pieces into place she was able to decide the time. 

Queen Luna, and a 500 meter long flying battleship, would see to it the Half Moon would fall.

Luna turned to her second, who waited for her command.

"I assume all is ready, and the Magnificent has made contact?"

"Yes, your highness. My soldiers are in position, as are the police and reservists. The city is a fortress," Malgavian replied.

"Good, is there anything more to report?"

Malgavian scratched the back of his neck. "Well, the changeling duke has clearly breached the treaty- he has at least a hundred of his own agents mixed in with the police near the embassy. On the one hoof, I commend him for the initiative. On the other, he's clearly breaking at least a dozen laws."

Luna laughed. "Of course, he would be the sort not to trust us. I'll allow it, given he's important in my own plans," Luna said, and her face returned to its stoic demeanour.

"However, keep a close watch on him- personally. I want him to know he is being watched as well. He seems to think that by leaving Chrysalis he'll answer to nobody- I want to you to ensure he knows he answers to me."

Malgavian nodded his acknowledgement.

"Now, bring me my armour," Luna said, and grinned as the die was rolled.

Tonight, she would fight. No more politics, no more plotting. Tonight she would fight Mezza Luna head on.

Tonight, a blood moon will rise, and a half moon will set.


_________


While the two sides of the Night Guard sped towards each other, Wildcard's mind raced on its own track. Tonight was the most important night of his entire life, and he was filled with excitement. 

His wife, beside him, kept glancing out the window as if she expected something. She hadn't said much after the first twenty minutes, and he was concerned.

"First, you look worried, what's up?" Wildcard asked.

She turned from the window and frowned, staring at her hooves. "I'm... worried. I think Luna is using you as a pawn, or rather even less than that- a carrot in a trap."

Wildcard put a hoof on her shoulder, feeling her shiver at his touch. 

"Of course she is, we're both playing the same game, she's just playing it on a different level. We'll both come out alright," he said, and pulled her close.

"It's going to get rough though, there's going to be blood," he warned. 

First Class looked him in the eye, and then held him tight. "I know, just..."

Wildcard held her for a moment, then pushed her away, smirking. "Don't die? I've gotten pretty good at that. I have no idea what Luna's going to do, but I can assure you that Mezza Luna isn't going to win," he said.

"Sure would be nice to have the Magnificent still around, she could shove half a kilometre of battleship up Half Mo..." Wildcard trailed off, noticing his wife was smirking at him.

"What?"

She smiled. "It is."

Wildcard paused for a moment, confused, and then figured it out.

"She faked the loss?" 

First Class nodded.

Wildcard laughed. "Well, looks like Half Moon is about to feel the force of the full moon. Stay close, and we'll get through this," he said, and glanced out the window.

Ahead he saw the embassy, behind a roadblock manned by police. These were actually changelings, part of the group that had fought in Southrop-Grumman. They had taken up positions all over the place, and kept a solid watch on everything. Their leader had a cutie mark now, a silver shield. He had taken that name as well, and was now Wildcard's chief of security. Silver Shield was definitely capable in his role, and he had spent the last week overseeing a rather important project Flankenstein and Colgate had been working on, using some hardware liberated from Archer's facility under Manehatten.

A discovery was always quicker the second time, and the results of their work, (Which cost ten thousand bits to finance) was held by him at the embassy. It was Wildcard's ace in the hole- proof of their Equestrian origins. 

At this thought he became giddy, and shuffled in his seat. Finally he was going to start putting his theory into practice, and finally he would have some real power, power he would put to good use. He could forge a better future for his people here, and for his new family. He could, Wildcard, as their leader. They would follow him- he would decide the fate of an entire race.

Power.

Wildcard grinned, and let himself be lost in the feeling as it came over him, tingling his skin. Power, the root word of all things. Once he had it, he would be unstoppable, and he was very close to having it. 

Chrysalis would see justice by his hoof.

The cart stopped, and he stepped out holding his wive's hoof onto a red carpet, lined with his own agents. They wore new ceremonial armour (Another ten thousand bits.), that had been crafted over the last week. Silver Shield stood at the end, holding a briefcase.

He bowed as Wildcard approached, and kissed First Class's hoof. "Good Evening Duke, Duchess. Everything is set," He said, and with a quick exchange of the case led them inside.

Down the hall, a dozen tables filled the large open area. Changeling leaders from all over Equestria- more than half with cutie marks- sat around talking with one another. Lyra Heartstrings, charismatic as always, moved from table to table exchanging pleasantries and jokes. At the very front was a table of regular ponies, representing the press. Wildcard took a quick headcount, and noted that all of those invited had shown up. The changelings in this room represented a full half of the population, workers and warriors within Equestria followed them. 

They followed him. All their assignments- and thus their money and power- came down from Wildcard. On a whim he could cut them off, send them home, or give them more substantial slices. He held the strings, and they danced to his tune. On top of that, the idea that they wouldn't have to send 80 cents on the bit home would add substantially. 

"Your attention please!" Silver Shield shouted.

"Duke Wildcard and Duchess First Class," he said, and then backed behind them.

Wildcard strode forward with his chin held high. "Good evening everypony, I trust you've been well taken care off?" Wildcard asked.

The changelings all nodded their approval, each of them had been provided more food than they could possibly eat, and it was the finest in the nation as well. Even in a war, there were still ways to get around rationing. That, plus the lodging for his fellows (paid for by himself, of course), and the rest of the odds and ends, put the total cost for all this at somewhere around fifty thousand bits.

It was worth every piece, empires didn't come cheap.

"Hey, Wildcard!" One of the reporters shouted, as he walked towards the stage at the far side of the room.

"You're going by Duke now? Does that mean you've resigned?" 

Wildcard smiled. "In good time, you can wait another minute," Wildcard teased, and rounded the end of the stage.

As he strode up to the lectern, the room hushed and the reporters got out their notepads. Once he got to the centre lectern, Wildcard placed his briefcase on it, and opened it. Simultaneously a dozen of Silver Shields stallions lined up against the far wall, they were all quite well armed, and instructed to be looking for any dissidents.

So that Wildcard could talk to them, personally, naturally.

"I assume most of you have some idea of why you're all here, this fine evening?" Wildcard asked the crowd.

"You're going to usurp the throne," one of the reporters tried.

Wildcard smirked. "To usurp assumes that I'm taking power unlawfully, or unjustly. I assure you I am doing no such thing."

"No, stand before you today to ask you to follow me, willingly, justly. You have all felt the strength of friendship here in Equestria, have you not?" Wildcard asked the crowd.

The changelings all nodded their agreement.

"I have certainly felt it, and I had to make a decision. Would I serve this Queen, this Queen that has lied and led us astray for so long, or would I blaze my own trail? I felt the magic of friendship, I even found love. I came home. That is why I resigned today. I cannot be the representative of an unjust state. The ponies are our friends, and have been for longer than you know."

"And yet, despite this, our Queen would have us think that the ponies are our enemies, that we're different from them, apart from them," Wildcard spoke, and removed the folder inside his briefcase.

"We are not different, we are not apart! I have here, before you today, proof of our real origins," he said, holding the folder aloft.

"What origins?" One of the reporters asked.

Wildcard smiled, and levitated the folder down to them.

"Equestrian origins. We are, and we always have been, ponies."

While the reporters frantically looked over the information inside- another genetic sequencing- Wildcard turned back to his fellows.

"This is our home! Not a squalid valley, Equestria! Follow me, and together we can resist the oppressive force of our so-called 'queen'. I have given you the truth, and now I ask that you band together with me to lead our people to a better future for us all!"

"What about the rest of us, the ones still back home?" One of the changelings asked.

"They can come with us, or stay in the valley. I only ask of Chrysalis that she allow us to choose our own path now," Wildcard replied.

"Now, are you with me? Will you follow me, as the founding members of the Changeling National Unification Party, for a better future?" 

His reply was standing applause, which he bathed in for a moment before speaking again. 

"Good! This is a new beginning for our people. Together we c..."

He was droned out by a deep roar from outside that shook the room, and a second later Silver Shield ran into the room, flanked by a few changeling warriors.

"Protect the primary!" Silver shouted, and waved towards Wildcard. 

He and his warriors ran up, while the rooms guests glanced at each other, and engaged in hushed worried conversation. Outside the city emergency sirens blared, while gunfire rang out in the distance. Lyra had disappeared into the hallway, Wildcard hoped she was smart enough to be getting out of the city, or at least to safety.

"What's going on?" First Class asked.

The thin crackle of gunfire outside told Wildcard all he needed to know, and he took a deep breath before putting a hoof to the reassuring metal under his suit.

"A bad moon's rising. Silver Shield will get you to safety, I've got work to do," Wildcard said, and kissed her on the cheek.

"Wildcard! I will not be led off like some filly, cowering in fear while you put your life on the line!" She argued, pushing him away.

"First," Wildcard said softly. "You're four months pregnant, you've got a new life to think about. That's something beyond either of us," 

First Class's face contorted with emotion, but her reply was cut off by Silver Shield.

"With all due respect sir, you aren't exactly in fighting shape either. We need to get both of you to safety," he said.

Wildcard looked at him, furious. "What's that supposed to mean? I have a gun, I have my wits, that's all I need!"

"They have guns too, more than we do. Don't try and be a hero, you'll only die like one," Silver returned.

Wildcard glared at him, but his anger was stayed by the warm hoof of his wife.

"He's right, Wild. You'e a leader now, not a foot soldier," She said, and gestured towards the room full of frightened changelings, waiting for some command. 

"You have something beyond either us, your people's future."

Wildcard looked out at them, and they looked back up at him. 

Power. He had it now. They all looked to him for his command. Their lives were in his hooves. Tonight, he would prove his worth by fire.

"Alright! Here's what's going to happen!" Wildcard shouted, and turned to his second.

"Silver, what's the situation out there, and how many do we have?" 

"Unsure, all I know is the train station went up in flames, and then the outer checkpoints came under fire. I'm prepared to move you to safety," he replied.

"No, we aren't leaving. We stand here." Wildcard ordered.

He stepped down from the stage, gesturing to groups of changelings as he went to the other end of the room.

"You! Disguise as civilians, go find out what's going on!" He ordered one group, and they quickly followed through, disguising as assorted civilians and hurrying out.

They didn't question the order, nor did they complain. Changelings had forever been moulded by the idea of obedience, always looking for someone to lead. Wildcard filled that role now.

"You! I need a radio, some way to keep in contact with the loyalists!" He ordered a second group.

Reaching the end, he turned to face the remainder. "The rest of you get outside, and get some barricades up halfway down the street," he said.

"Silver, we need weapons, what do you have?" He asked, striding out with Silver on one flank and his wife stuck to the other.

"We only have a few small arms I managed to keep, not much more beyond that," he replied.

"Have your warriors get us more, loot the armoury," Wildcard instructed, and entered his office. 

Silver left behind him down the hallway while he cleared his desk, throwing everything to the floor.

"First, you know where the guards are, right?" Wildcard asked, as he unrolled a map of the city.

"Mostly," She replied.

"Good, mark them," Wildcard instructed.

While she did as asked, Lyra appeared in the doorway.

"Go home Lyra, you don't need to be here," Wildcard said, carefully noting his wife's marks.

"Wildcard, don't be like that. I'll fight for what's right, just like the Wonderbolts or the Legion," Lyra said.

"Then go help with the barricades," Wildcard commanded, and picked his phone off the floor.

"First, what's the emergency number for the castle guard? I need to contact whoever is running this thing."

Before First Class could reply, a shadow of a pony slid into the room.

"That would be me," Malgavian said.


_________


Queen Luna strode down the street as gunfire crackled away, relaying her orders through Echo, a subordinate loyalist. Luna's own force was getting torn apart by the traitorous attackers. The first target they had struck was the train station, probably in an attempt to cut off reinforcement. How they had managed to level it so quickly was a mystery, but one that would have to wait for later. Malgavian was cut off behind the developing lines, as the insurrectionists pushed towards the embassy and the castle in two forces. In the middle was the police station, it looked like their plan was to encircle it.

"Starswirl and Radiance streets have fallen, the reservists are in a rout," Echo said, listening to the radio pack on her back.

That made a dozen streets in as many minutes. The outer defences hadn't even stood a chance. Luna cursed herself for putting her vain second in charge of a weapons development operation, now all those technologies were being used against her. Rocket propelled grenades, light body armour, automatic rifles, they were far outgunned.

"Order the reservists to fall back on the police headquarters, and defend the armoury. Last thing we need is more weapons in the hands of these terrorists," Luna ordered, the last word droned out by the city sirens.

"And order those damn sirens silenced, I think everypony knows it's an emergency already!"

Echo relayed the order, while they continued heading for the front lineThankfully the cities citizens had been smart enough to have gotten out of the streets quickly, once again proving Twilight Sparkle's worth. Dozens of shelters shielded them from the street fighting, all built by her command. The siren- as annoying as it was- alerted everyone, and an automatic distress call went out to the legion. The entire network would be flooded with a simple flash message right now.

BROKEN ARROW- CANTERLOT

Rounding a bend she found a pair of loyalists, checking their weapons.

"On me!" Luna ordered, and they quickly came to her tail.

Echo seemed confused, and poked Luna's side. 

"Uh... I just got an urgent call from the changeling ambassador," She said, looking up her confused.

"He wants weapons."

Luna laughed. "Oh he does, does he? Well I..."

She trailed off as she had an idea.

"Actually, I think I have a use for him. Order the reservists to take what weapons they from the armoury, and fall back on the embassy. Inform the duke that his duties for the home guard have just begun." 

Echo looked at her unsure, and the two followers mumbled something to each eachother.

Luna suddenly flew into a rage, and glared back at them with her eyes glowing. "Do you not think I am shamed by this? Do you not know the humiliation of having to rely on my sisters centurions for protection? That changeling has been more loyal to Equestria than you lot have been! You cowards refused to act against Mezza Luna, instead waiting for me to do it for you," She said, and then leaned over Echo.

"A thousand years ago I would have the whole lot of you hanged for treason," She threatened.

The speech had the intended effect- all three cowered in terror at Luna.

"However, it is not," she said, in a softer tone, "you may as of yet redeem yourselves." 

She turned back down the street, her party tailing her in a much tighter formation, and rounded the next corner with Luna leading.

Ahead they found a hasty barricade in the middle of the street. A few panicked reservists hunkered behind it, waiting for the inevitable. On seeing their ruler, they were markedly relieved.

"Queen Luna!" One of them hailed, waving his rifle in the air, while the other looked down the street.

Luna grinned at him, and motioned for her party to move up to the end of the street.

"In the flesh, you two come with me, we're going straight to the heart..."

Gunfire from the end of the street cut her off, as her two Night Guards traded shots with some unknown adversaries.

The reply from afield was a volley of fire, impressive in magnitude, that blasted the corner the bat pony was leaning against apart, forcing him to dive against the ground.

"There's eight of them, and they have automatic rifles!" He shouted, clearly panicking.

Luna growled and blasted the barricade aside, striding through with a thin magical shield around herself. 

"Not for long they don't," she said, and her sword slid out of its sheath to come floating in front of her.

"Get behind me!" She ordered, and swung around the corner of the street to face her enemies.

Eight bat ponies, all wearing tan-green flak armour and carrying large automatic rifles intended for use by the Crystal Empire, slid to a halt in the street. 

"Surrender yourself!" One of them shouted.

Luna spared no time and blasted him with a beam of energy from her horn. Nothing remained but ash.

They opened fire, but their rounds bounced harmlessly off Luna's shield- for now. To her horror she realized that this was far more than even she could handle. She could only hold back the force of the dozens of rounds for a short time.

Warfare had changed.

In desperation she blasted them all back, while her own opened fire and managed to hit two of them. 

Quicker than she hoped, they continued firing from the ground at her, their armour absorbing her parties shots. She grunted with the strain of the force against her and hit one with an energy beam from her horn, but that still left six.

"Queen Luna! We can't contend with their weaponry!" Echo shouted from behind her.

Luna took a quick look at the situation, and decided to beat a tactical retreat.

"Let them contend with this!" She shouted, and her horn began to glow brilliantly.

She tore a parcel of the street free from the ground and tossed it afield, sending her enemies scattering into the sky amidst a cloud of dust and debris. 

"Damn it!" Luna shouted, darting back into the side street. "How much longer?"

Echo shouted her reply at her- two hours. Two hours until they would be able to close the trap. At this rate by the time they arrived it would already be over.

"Fall back to the castle, we make our stand there!" Luna shouted, and ran back down the street. 

The two defenders she picked up fell, as did the reservists, in a flurry of automatic fire from behind. Thankfully she ran fast enough that she was able to extend the shield over Echo and protect them both from the odd shot that made its mark on the pair.

"Queen Luna!" A voice shouted from above, a rather familiar voice.

Luna halted in a rage, and fired a beam upwards. "Mezza Luna!" 

She dodged the beam, and a second, quite expertly. "The very same!" 

Quickly the party was surrounded on all sides by groups of traitors, all aiming their automatic guns at them. 

Luna realized she was outmatched, and tried to think of some escape. She could release a magical shockwave to save herself- but it would kill Echo.

Echo was suddenly furious, and pushed out from behind her. "Half Moon, have you gone insane? You've betrayed everything we are!" She accused.

Mezza Luna drifted down from the sky and landed before her. "No, she has. Her sister has corrupted her mind and forever taken away from us our true ruler. I was there when she refused to destroy the changelings, I was there when she stole from us the great ship we built. There can only be one moon!" She ranted, and hit Echo across the head with the but of her sidearm.

"Me!"

Luna sighed. "You're clearly insane, we are forever shamed by your folly," she said, and her horn began to glow as she built up the energy.

"I wouldn't do what you're thinking of doing, the lives of thousands hinge on my call," Mezza Luna threatened.

"What do you mean?" Luna asked.

"I have... a weapon, a weapon that was once ours. I won't tell you where it is, but I will tell you that it has a payload of ten missiles. Unless I order them to stand down, an entire town will be vaporized," 

"So what do you want then?!" Luna shouted.

"Me? You have me, you've won! Take your best shot Half Moon, and make it count."

Mezza Luna shook her head and smirked. "You? No. I want your sister."

"Never! I would see every single pony die before I gave you Celestia, you have greatly misunderstood my loyalty to her!" 

"Then it appears we are at an impasse," Mezza Luna said, as her force closed in. "I don't care about those ponies, and I'll get her in time anyway."

Luna stared her down. "What if... I give you what you really want?" 

Mezza Luna looked at her curiously. "Tell me, your highness, what do I truly want?"

"A Night that will reign eternal!" Luna shouted, and loomed over her. "I will give you..." 

She shimmered in the evening light, her whole body glowing as she transformed.	

"Nightmare Moon!" 

Mezza Luna was speechless, but didn't seem entirely convinced. Her soldiers glanced at each other uncertainly. 

"Take my side, and we will rule Equestria together! Celestia can do nothing to stop us with the elements destroyed!" Luna declared.

Mezza Luna was quite taken, and looked at her like a foal seeing her mother shout a man down.

"Finally! I knew you would break through Celestia's brainwashing eventually!" She exclaimed, and turned to her troops.

"The moon rises! Inform the rest, and drive those nieve fools back into the mountain!" She ordered, and then turned her pistol to Echo.

"Now, it's time to deal with... the trash," she sneered.

Echo glared back at her. "Go buck yourself, you'll get yours in the end!" 

Mezza Luna hit her again, and then glanced to Luna. 

"Prove you really are the Nightmare we've been waiting for."

Luna looked at Echo, and saw the determined fire in her eyes. A fire that soon engulfed her, and her form vanished from the street, leaving nothing but smoke.


_________


Wildcard remained in his office, while his wife put her woodworking skills to use outside, barricading the doors and assembling some hasty roadblocks outside. The ballroom was now in a state of anarchy, with all the tables shoved to the side to allow for crates and crates of weapons brought in by the retreating reservists. He had his arms, he had a force, but what would be done with it remained a question. Malgavian was leading hit and run attacks in the streets, which bought some time.

He rubbed his forehead and looked again at the map. Every sector of the city except the embassy had fallen, with the loyalists nowhere to be seen and the reservists falling back on the embassy itself. The insurrectionists had been oddly quiet for the last few minutes, and reports had stopped coming in from Echo.

It wasn't a very good sign.

Silver Shield strode in the room, back from a patrol. "Queen Luna has fallen back on the castle sir, but that's not all that's happened," he said, leaving his helmet on the table.

"Not good news?" Wildcard asked.

He shook his head. "She fell back with Half Moon at her side, and she was in her... other form."

Wildcard glanced away to hide his obvious fear. "You're telling me Nightmare Moon is back, with an army, and Celestia is in the Crystal Empire?!" 	

Silver Shield nodded, and Wildcard sighed as he looked again at the map.

"Alright, here's the plan," he said, and moved a pair of chess pieces to the street of the embassy. "We split in half, and defend these two barricade positions to the last. I can give us twelve hours protection, just like last time we went up against the moon," he said.

"The Magnificent better have something able to kill an alicorn," he added.

"What if it's a ruse, and she's playing for time?" Silver Shield asked.

"We can't take that risk, and we have to defend from the insurrectionists anyway. You have your orders, get to it."

He saluted and grabbed his helmet before leaving, Wildcard stayed and stared at the map.	

Surrounded by evil Night Guards, protected by a small group of brave ponies. Salvation comes from the sky, for now they would have to wait.

He shrugged, life had a way of going in circles. 

"First!" He shouted as he left the office.

She was in the ballroom, hastily breaking apart a few of the tables. 

"What is it?" She shouted back.

Four months pregnant, and barely slowed down at all. She was probably in better shape then he was. Her dress was draped over a chair nearby as she hacked away, breaking the legs off tables for use as barricade backing.

"How are you feeling?" Wildcard asked as he trotted over.

First Class wiped her brow. "A little tired, but I've gone through worse for Equestria."

Wildcard smiled, and took her hoof into his own. "Do you think you can last the night?" he asked.

She gave him a searching glance. "Now is not the time Wild, we're not even alone," she said.

Wildcard laughed. "No no, not that. I need to use your magic First, to defend us."

"Kiss me."

First Class understood, and embraced her husband tight, kissing him tenderly. He in turn glowed green, and outside a matching half circle rose from the ground, covering the embassy and surrounding streets. 

Far and away, on the Magnifent's bridge, the radar pinged.

	


	
	

		

	
> Arc: Quietly Into the Night III
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

At 7PM in Canterlot, the guns fell silent. Mezza Luna's force had swept aside the loyalists with bloody effect, and concluded their campaign with an explosion that shook the city. The loyalists that survived were sealed in the mountain, and any that tried to escape through the old tunnels would be cut down by emplaced guns. The citizens of the city remained in the shelters, unaware of anything going on outside, still waiting for the all-clear. The only remaining free area of the city was a single block, near the fortifying wall: the Changeling Embassy.

There, under a green dome, the remaining fighters waited for either their salvation, or their end. Wildcard would sometimes stride through them, keeping their spirits high, while his wife attempted to hail the Magnificent from his office. Malgavian had long since disappeared into the evening, and as the clock tolled 7PM, hopes began to fade. Outside the dome the waiting lines of Night Guards grew by the minute.

In the sky, a rather ominous red moon hung over everything- a blood moon. Under its gaze the chilly September winds whistled through the empty Canterlot streets. 

What if Luna was lying about the Magnificent, and she really was launching a coup?

Behind the lines, the leader of the only remaining fighters pondered that question. An hour ago the sun had fallen below the horizon, and now an ominous red moon hung over the world, as the biting cold of mid-September came from the north. 

Wildcard sat on a crate, his horn glowing brightly, as he absent-mindedly loaded rounds into handguns. The conclusion to the question, if proven positive, was obvious. Princess Luna, now Queen Luna, had her forces within the city- the capital city. Anyone remaining loyal to Celestia was either trapped in the mountain, dead, or within the shield. Celestia herself was in the Crystal Empire. The conclusion was thus:

We're boned.

He watched one of the insurrectionist leaders walking before his troops on the far side of the shield, bellowing a speech to them. 

"We'll give these shapeshifters no quarter! Equestria will be free of their filth, only from a secure homefront can we possibly win this war! Remember, they are not ponies, they are changelings. No mercy! Those that have chosen to cower down amongst them are no better!"

He listened to the leader continue on, as his words began to blur into a bloody fog of hate. As much as he tried not to be, to look at it all rationally, Wildcard felt a fiery hatred build up within. Those sort of words had a way of going unpredictable places.

"No mercy." He mumbled to himself, and hearing somebody coming down the street, turned to face the visitor.

Silver Shield, fresh from a quick patrol outside the shield, strode up to deliver his report with a sharp salute.

"They're tightening defences around the castle, and fortifying the outer city. They'll be coming down on us soon enough. I've heard rumours they have some firepower outside the city too, but nothing specific."

Wildcard looked at him, and put the gun he had been loading to the side. 

"Silver, how do you feel about suicide missions?" Wildcard asked.

"I'll do as I'm ordered," Silver replied, in the trained tone of a changeling agent. 

His eyes flickered with a blue light as the instincts kicked in, and he stood straight at attention.

"Good," Wildcard said, and slid off the crate, "but this one isn't for you."

"Sir?"

"You're too capable for me to throw away. I need you to bring me your three top shapeshifters," Wildcard said.

"That you can spare," he added.

"You better have a good reason," Silver Shield said, squinting his eyes at Wildcard.

"Survival, Silver. Just survival."

Wildcard looked back at the leader, across the other side of the shield, and for a second their eyes met. If looks could kill, they would both be dead.


_______________


The Magnificent, meanwhile, continued heading for Canterlot. Once over the next mountain it would be within visual distance of the city. Spitfire kept the lights off so she could attempt to sneak 500 meters of battle carrier as close as possible. Their plan hinged on shock tactics, and the first phase was already under way. High above, the Wide Flank was slowly making it's way towards the city, carrying a single heavily modified landing craft. They had simply bolted a propeller to the top, which would give it some extra glide time.

The pilot couldn't steer it much, but it was all they had at the moment. That craft would be dropped right onto the castle grounds, it's crew given one simple task- cut the head off the snake. Echo had been clever, as soon as Mezza Luna found them she had begun transmitting to the Magnfiicent, and they heard everything.

Spitfire took a deep breath, and pushed the button to restart the clock that had been silent for the last three weeks.

Operation Thousand Year Itch began.

"Spitfire!" Twilight shouted, having been trying to figure out why the radar was broken for the last hour.

Spitfire strode down towards her, limping on her forward right leg. "Is it fixed yet?"

Twilight shook her head, and tapped the display. "It's not broken, Spitfire, it's working."

"So why has it been beeping for the last hour, Dash took a look out there, there's nothing. Just a calm night over Ponyville." Spitfire said.

Twilight turned to her, and looked straight into eyes. "I took a quick look in the hanger earlier, and I noticed something..." she said, using her new height to stand over Spitfire.

"You only have nine of those stealth planes, but Celestia gave you ten..." She said, and glared down at the Air Martial.

The bridge crew took notice of this, and glanced from their stations at the pair.

"Where is number two Spitfire? What did you do with it?" Twilight demanded, her voice rising as she pressed Spitfire back.

Spitfire swallowed, and she began to defend herself.

"Mezza Luna demanded it- in return for our full missile complement. I had no idea what she wanted with it, I didn't care- we were on the same side!"

Twilight continued pushing. "You gave up critical hardware without informing any of us, how long ago did this happen, why didn't you say anything?"

"Months ago! Mezza Luna had Princess Luna's ear, there's nothing I could have done to stop her! Either I gave her the plane, or you would all be learning Griffonic right now!" Spitfire argued, and pushed back.

"You think it's easy, making these decisions? Do you not think I lay awake at night wondering if I could do better? This is leadership, Twilight. You make choices based on the information you have at the time. I did what I had to, and I regret nothing," She continued, opening her wings sub-conciously. 

"What choices have you made, Princess? What gives you the right to judge me? Just because you can save Equestria doesn't mean you can lead it!"

Twilight herself pushed back, and the two came to a stand-still between the commanders seat and the radar seat.

"My crown gives me the right, Air Martial. I earned my place."

"So did I," Spitfire retorted. "I've run the Wonderbolts since I was fifteen, I saw us through Waylay, and I was there when the dragons came in '93. So tell me, Princess, what are you without your crown?"

Twilight glanced aside for a moment, and Spitfire took the initiative further.

"Tell me, Princess, how many have lost their lives by your command? How many, Princess? Every time I make a choice, I know that I won't be able to save them all, and that not every choice will be remembered as a good one. I make the calls anyway, to the best of my abilities, because I am a leader. You have no right to judge me."

She pressed Twilight back up against her radar.

"You do your duty, and leave me to mine." Spitfire said, and then turned in a flash to her crew.

"Dash wing out on CAP, launch three Phoenixes with missile loads," she ordered.

"Spitfire, how are we going to see the enemy in the dark?" Northstar asked, looking out the window at the dark twilight sky

"We don't need to see them, Twilight's radar can guide them towards the enemy, and then they can launch their missiles at the rogue Phoenix. Those things generate a hell of a lot of heat." Spitfire explained.

The room paused for a moment, as if expecting fireworks between Spitfire and Twilight again.

Spitfire put her hoof down on that. "Get to work!" she shouted.

Spitfire returned to her command seat, while they went to work. Twilight seemed to be considering her next move as she read the radar, glancing back ever so often. 

Spitfire glanced away as she felt something in her eye, thinking on something she had said.

I couldn't save them all.


_______________


The elite of the First Airborne, Flash Sentry and the rest, talked amongst themselves inside the landing craft, which hung from the bottom of the Wide Flank. Other than themselves, and a few boxes of spare ammunition, they were alone. Seven ponies against the moons, the five elite along with a gunner, and a pilot- both of whom would stay with the landing craft.

Breach the castle. Determine who is behind the violence- be it Luna or her second. Kill them.

While they hammered on the top of the chain, the Magnificent would use the distraction in the line of command to drop the rest of the first all over the city. Two destroyers would breach the walls, and disgorge their troops. It wasn't a pretty plan, but it was all they had. They all had armour piercing rounds, and would could take on even the prototype armour the insurgents had stolen. Twilights intelligence had been invaluable, and probably saved them from having to raze Canterlot. Even so, there was still a long fight ahead. 

Canterlot was going to need a new coat of paint tomorrow.

Flash looked to Mary Frosthorn, sitting at his side.

"You think Luna's behind this?"

"I sure hope not, Noponies ever won against an alicorn before," she replied.

Rona Excavo fidgeted in her seat. "Nopony has come prepared with a twelve-seven cannon toting stallion, and failing that a 500 meter long battleship."

"I thought it was thirty millimetre?" Mary asked, looking across at the huge gun on the floor. 

That gun, which noisily jostled with ever movement of the craft, was keeping them calm more than anything. No amount of armour could possibly stop that. Even an alicorn would have to think twice before going against it.

Rona chuckled. "Really? I heard they mis-marked the first batch, but I didn't think it was true. Look at that, imagine it twice the size- it would be the size of..."

She paused, and sighed as she looked at the guns owner.

"Him."

Big Mac pretended not to notice, while Flash smiled bemusedly. 

Brigadier Sunshine checked his watch, himself standing at the head of the unit, keeping himself steady with a rope hanging from the roof. He had been impatiently checking his watch for the last half hour, sparing a glance to the door now and then as well.

"Five minutes, check your weapons."

Big Mac prodded the cannon assembly on the floor beside him, and checked the ammunition box. A hundred rounds, armour piercing. They knew full well the insurgents had some advanced weapons, and they came prepared. That gun was the only thing he brought, and it was more than enough in itself. He slung the weapon on his back, and Rona levitated the ammunition box on with a smile. 

Flash checked both his weapons, first that crossbow with it's glowing bolts- twenty of them. Secondly he had his rifle, the rounds of which were also tracers. At any time he could call on Mary to follow his shots with explosive effect. On his pack he had the standard signals radio kit, the second part of his role. In general, he was to keep close to the Brigadier and be their link to high command- Spitfire.

Mary had a standard rifle, and a pack full of medial supplies on her back. Her role wasn't combat, it was keeping them alive when they inevitably took fire. She also had a further twenty bolts for Flash, stuffed in the remaining space of her pack.

Rona Excavo was their engineer, having inherited her families ability to shift dirt on an industrial scale as if it was nothing. She carried a shotgun, designed for breaching doors or locked gates. On her back was a second radio pack, this one much smaller than Flash's. If Mary and Flash split from the group, they would be able to stay in contact.

Sunshine, their commander, had nothing more than a sidearm. He, however, also had a large backpack full of spare ammo and some explosives. Everyone carried their weight.

"Ready," Flash said, and was followed in turn by his compatriots.

The gunner, an anonymous private that Flash knew well enough not to get close to, stuck his head down from the turret.

"I'm all set up here, I'll give you cover fire from this bucket while you breach the castle," he said.

A second later, the warning lights inside the craft lit up, and the squad silenced. Flash grabbed his seat to steady himself for the fall- it was a long way down from here to Canterlot.

Of the two things he wished for in that moment, one was answered as he felt Mary's hoof on his own. He looked to her, and their eyes locked as the iron pod was released from it's carrier, plummeting in the abyss towards Canterlot. Her hair seemed to float off her head, and a great many things were said silently to each other.

The second thing he had wished for was a window, only their pilot had a view of what was actually going on as he guided the makeshift dropship towards the castle. It was armoured enough that it would burst through the wall wherever it landed, and that was exactly the plan. The propeller on top spun noisily, giving some semblance of control to their gliding voyage.

What the pilot saw was a city in flames, with the castle itself lit up by a few spotlights pointed up at it from the courtyard. Even from this distance the scars of battle were obvious. Plenty of windows were shattered and open to the night wind, while the grass around was burnt and dirtied. Oddly, there was none of the expected ground fire. The anti-air emplacements didn't even seem to be manned, the only light was within the city itself- coming from a few dozen fires.

Canterlot was not looking well, but the cure was on the way. The pilot decided to relieve some of his anxiety by shouting their altitude as they descended.

Three hundred meters!

Two hundred meters!

One hundred meters!

Finally, somebody on the ground spotted them and the sound of bullets impacting sounded like steel rain throughout. Flash gripped Mary a little tighter, and the gun opened on top opened up.

"Contact!" Their gunner shouted, loosing fire at a few barely-visible Night Guards, firing from positions behind hedges in the courtyard.

Positions that quickly became nothing more than flaming grass, sending the shooters fleeing.

The dropship soon made its mark, and slammed into the grassy clearing. It speed forward, full of velocity from the descent, crashing through a few stone statues, before it came to a halt.

"Hold on!" the pilot shouted, over the cacaphony of fire from above.

The makeshift engine whined, and the vehicle sped forward towards the nearest wall of the castle, behind which the grand ballroom laid. Quickly, with the cannon blazing in the night, the iron barge crashed through the wall, and squeezed to a halt halfway inside. The door slammed down on the ballroom floor, shattering the expensive tiles.

The squad flew out the door, with Sunshine barking his orders as they ran past him.

"Mac, doorway!" He shouted, and gestured across the room to the double doors at the end.

Curiously, Flash noted- as he took cover behind an overturned table- the room was covered with shell fragments, and the windows on the other side were broken. There were even a few blood stains, obviously they weren't the first force in here.

"What the hell happened in here?!" Mary wondered aloud, echoing his concerns.

"We'll find out later, we've got a job to do!" Sunshine shouted, and ran after Corporal Macintosh, who was signalling the hallway was clear after kicking down the door.

Flash left his position and followed them out, with Rona behind and Mary besides. As soon as they had formed up in the hallway, a fiery explosion took their landing vehicle, and threw them all against the floor. Flash went down hard, bruising his ribs painfully- but he was a professional, and quickly got back up with the rest.

"Rona in the back, Mac up front! Forward!" Sunshine ordered, barely audible past the ringing in everyponies ears.

They moved forward a ordered, Flash keeping his crossbow at hoof- better for closed in fighting. As the buzzing in his ears died away, it was replaced with the sounds of war from outside as the rest of the first made their landings, and soon enough the Magnificent would begin pounding any hardened targets. The sound of Wonderbolt guns blazing in the sky outside, occasionally visible by the brief flash out a window, was a relieving sight. Soon enough, the anti-air emplacements sent up their return.

As they went pushed onward, they found overturned tables and makeshift defenses, most of which were torn apart by bilateral fire. Paintings, ancient and priceless, hung marked with bullet holes on the walls, while the stain glass windows were more often than not shattered. The castle defenders seemed to have thought they had killed them when they destroyed the landing vehicle, and for a few minutes they made their way towards the throne room in a tense loneliness, checking every corner for the enemy. 

Flash took a moment, and paused before one of the windows. It was relatively new, and commemorated the loss of Baltimare. Celestia had presented it at a somber press conference, to distract the public from the losses over the ocean. It hadn't been touched. Outside, a close run by a Wonderbolt wing lit it up. The old Baltimore skyline, painted in red. Above it, in the sky, hung an infinity symbol.

"Equestria Prevails" 

Mary tapped him on the shoulder, and he followed her back down the hall. It was strange, Flash thought, that both sides in this firestorm fought because of that day.

"Anybody notice the moon's red?" Rona wondered, glancing out a broken window.

"It's a blood moon, Luna's sending a message- but to who?" Flash returned.

Carrying on checking corners, Flash darted around one corner, and spotted one of the insurgents, trotting down the hall. For a second, their gazes met eachother, and he looked on the slit eyes of the bat pony, as his enemy looked back. Before his mind had even realized it, he had pulled the trigger, and sent a glowing bolt whizzing down the hallway to come to a stop between those two eyes.

It's body dropped to the floor, clanking to it's final rest clad in ultimately useless armour.

"Nice shot," Mary said, tapping him on the shoulder.

The battle outside continued, and the Magnificent became visible on the horizon, lit by the spotlights on its deck. Flash could only imagine the sheer terror the enemy must have known, to see a 500 meter long battleship light up and start raining down death from above on them. With every salvo the castle shook once, and then much harder, as the shots were fired and impacted. 

"I can't believe we're actually invading Canterlot. This never happened a year ago. Remember the running of the leaves? That was nice." Rona commented.

Sunshine motioned for them to halt, and picked the phone off of Flash's pack.

"Fleet, this is Sunburn, we're at the crossroads."

A moment later he had his response, and after a second of thought carried out his orders.

"Throne room is down the left corridor, I really doubt they're going to leave that undefended. Mary, blast it," he ordered.

Mary grinned and came up front, while Flash and Mac covered the rear. 

She begun to charge her horn, and was just about to stick around the corner when a trio of soldiers crossed into Flash's view, a few dozen meters down.

"We've been made!" He shouted, and snapped off a shot that hit one in the chest.

Big Mac opened up, and sent them scurrying back into the hallway they came from, pulling their wounded comrade. Mary discharged her magic down at the throne room, and ducked back as a roaring inferno blew down the hallway back at her.

"Charge!" Sunshine commanded, and Flash turned and ran after them towards the throne room. 

The ground was still painfully hot, but that didn't stop any of them. They sped past the shattered entrance, and two guards that had once stood watch, into the throne room itself. They quickly spread out, just as planned, and aimed their arsenal towards the two figured at the head of the room. 

Queen Luna sat on her throne, covered in darkness. Beside her an anxious looking bat pony, clad in much thicker armour than her contemporaries, looked down on them.

Sunshine strode forward, aiming his sidearm at their Queen.

"You are under arrest, by order of Air Martial Spitfire on the behalf of Princess Celestia, for grand treason."

Flash carefully aimed his crossbow not at Luna, but at the foot of the throne, while Mary charged her horn once again.

A one-two punch. He kept his finger on the trigger, waiting for the signal. As soon as Sunshine lowered his gun, they would unleash hell on their Queen. Even an Alicorn must surely go down against that much firepower.

If she didn't, a 19 inch naval gun would do the trick.

The strange pony at her side laughed, and began to step down towards them. Luna, wearing some strange armour, sat silently in the dark. Her glowing eyes gazed down at them, as her apparent second approached. Flash knew her name, but thought she had been branded a traitor. Mezza Luna.

"You fools, you have already lost. Have you not looked outside?" She asked.

Flash spared a glace to the side. Beyond the shattered windows, and with Wonderbolts silhouetted in it for moments at a time, a red moon hung over Equestria.

A blood moon. It sent shivers down his spine.

"Yes, the blood moon. Not for a thousand years has Equestria beheld it's splender, but tonight it rose. Tomorrow we will clean up Canterlot, and then Equestria will know not three, but one ruler. I stand by her side, and you..."

She laughed again.

"Stand in the way!" She shouted, and stepped aside.

Luna blinked, and lifted from the throne. Flash glanced to the Sunshine, and noted he still pointed his weapon forward, although he seemed conflicted, aiming it just to the side of Luna herself. An argument seemed to be playing in his mind, while Flash waited for his command. They only had a few moments at the most.

"A blood moon has risen, it is true. Tonight you have sacked the capital at my side, and Equestria is in my grasp. My sister has been banished to the Crystal Empire, and this pathetic force faces the hopeless task of trying to defeat me. I assure you, no amount of naval artillery or guns..."

She paused for a moment in her speech, and in a split second they were all taken by a blue field, held firm and unable to speak- or move.

"... can possibly defeat me. I commend you on your bravery, but this is the end." She finished, and turned to her second.

Flash cursed inwardly. They had lost their chance, all thanks to his commanders indecision. Now, they were doomed. 

To his shock, and awe, she instantly grasped the pony by the neck. "The end of you, you treacherous filth! I have brought these brave ponies here to end you, and they have done exactly as ordered- far more than I can say about you!" She shouted, almost at a deafening pitch, and grasped  tighter.

"The blood moon rises for thee, Commander!"

Mezza Luna kicked forward futilely, and gasped for breath. Flash grinned as he saw Luna stride into the moonlight, her mane shimmering as it flowed from her blue body. Flash knew his Princesses well, and this was Luna, not the rumoured return of Nightmare Moon.

He heard a crack from behind, and remembered the guards they had seen before. Luna noticed too, released them from their holding. 

"Cover that door!" She ordered. 

Flash flung himself against the wall, on two legs with his back against it. The others repeated this as quickly as they could, except for Mac- who started dumping his magazine down the hallway.

"Mary, shield him!" Flash shouted.

Mary nodded, and quickly threw up a blue shield ahead of their stallion-turret.

Flash quickly took a peek down the hall, and was able to make out a trio of bat ponies snapping shots towards them, before he was forced back into cover. They had those automatic rifles they had been warned about, and even their inaccurate spewing of bullets was having an effect, plastering the entrance with a hail of metal. Sparks flew at their feet, and the remains of the carpet burst into flame here and there. 

Sunshine was up against the wall behind Mary, and stared into the abyss. It seemed that the pressure had gotten to him.

"I can't keep this up!" Mac shouted.

Flash checked his rifle, and prepared for the worst. Luna was still taken with her second, yelling something inaudible over the gunfire at her. Sunshine seemed to be in another world, still staring at the other end of the room.

"Sir!" Flash yelled, trying to get his attention.

He glanced back at Flash, with a stare that seemed to go right through him. Then he turned back, seemingly uncaring of all that was going on around him.

He raised his pistol, and fired.

Luna screamed in pain, and was forced to release her captive. Flash cringed, and looked over to where she was.

Flash watched, frozen in terror, as she transformed into the Nightmare. A further five shots bounced off her, and they were all crushed against the wall.

"You fool!" She shouted, and turned her glowing eyes down at them. 


_______________


Spitfire watched as the Wide Flank, barely visible in the dim twilight, receded into the distance. They had very simple orders, but as always making her orders reality would be difficult. They had to go attack an alicorn, head on. Hopefully, Luna wasn't actually behind all this, but if she was...

"Ten kilometers- do they see it yet?" Twilight asked Echo, breaking her train of thought.

"They're reporting nothing, they could fire off a few flares to light the sky," Echo replied.

Spitfire glanced over Twilight, and looked at the radar screen. Three blips, closing on a fourth. 

"Can't do that, it would confuse the missiles." Twilight said.

Spitfire sighed, and slouched in her chair. 

Command. Command meant you had to be right- even when you were wrong. The crew couldn't ever question her, not for a moment. Lives rode on her every whim being followed out to the letter. Her job was to make the choices, and deal with the consequences.  Their job was to carry those choices out, to those consequences. Consequences that, recently, weighed on her like a twelve-seven Wonderbolt gun pack.

There was no time for that now, however. She had a mission to carry out.

"We've waited long enough, get the ship in gear and the rest of the first moving out," She said, and swivelled towards the crew at the rear of the bridge.

"Recall Dash Wing, and have them refit for CAS. Prepare the guns for ground bombardment. We're going to clear out that ground fire, and then we'll have open skies for bombing," She ordered.

Clear Skies relayed the order, and the ship began to move forward. Twilight looked back at her, with a searching glance.

"You're not seriously going to bomb Canterlot, are you?" She asked.

Spitfire tented her hooves, which displayed the great scar running down her right arm for all to see. She wore it like a medal: greater proof of her service then a dozen awards.

"I want all strategic options on the table. These insurrectionists need to be halted, here and now."

Twilight didn't seem entirely satisfied. "You've changed. I didn't know much before, but I never knew you to be so... cold."

"I am what Equestria needs me to be," Spitfire said, and gestured to the radar.

"You have a job to do."

Twilight hesitated for a moment, but the beeping from the radar sent her back to work.

"Seven kilometres, if they launch missiles now and pull out- they should hit it," Twilight said.

"If they miss?" Spitfire asked.

"Th... Spitfire!" Twilight exclaimed, and stood up in alarm.

"If anybody is on the ground, and they miss... the consequences would be horrible!"

Spitfire considered, while the Princess stared at her in horror.

"Order them to fire."

Twilight darted away from her seat, and leapt towards Echo. She was too late- Echo relayed the order like any professional would.

"No! That's Ponyville down there, the risk is too great!" She exclaimed, glancing at the crew for some sign of support.

Spitfire rose from her seat. "Princess Twilight, could you see me in my office?" 

"Gladly, Air Martial." Twilight said, and followed her- taking a moment to glance at the kill board.

A minute later, Spitfire sat in her office chair with Twilight across from her, pacing back and forth in the room.

"Relax, Princess, you're going to give yourself an ulcer," Spitfire suggested.

"Relax?!" Twilight exclaimed, flailing her hooves in the air. "Relax?!"

"How are you so relaxed, you just put ten thousand ponies in danger!" 

Twilight paused, and slammed the table. "My friends are down there!" 

"Would you rather I not take the chance, and Ponyville get bombed regardless? Even if one of those missiles comes down, it's a lot less than that plane is carrying." Spitfire said.

Twilight looked at her as if she was insane. "How, how are you so cold about all this? Is this all a numbers game to you, do their lives mean nothing?"

Spitfire twitched, but retained her composure.

"Don't say anything you're going to regret, Princess. I care for every pony under my command, and for every citizen of Equestria. We all do." Spitfire said.

"You don't seem to."

Spitfire sighed, and lay her hat on the desk. 

"I can't seem to, don't you get it? If I ever look weak, or indecisive, for even a second- the crew starts to question things. The moment that happens, ponies die. Everything hinges on them following my orders- even if history disagrees with what I do."

"Twilight, I have regrets. I have many regrets. I've gone left when I should have gone right, but there's nothing I can do about it. I can cry when the war's over."

Twilight gasped in comprehension.

"It's fake, a mask." She said.

Spitfire crossed her arms, again showcasing that great scar, and allowed her to continue.

"You lost someone, someone dear to you. You blame yourself for it, so you built this wall up around yourself. You're afraid to get close to anyone, that if you do, you won't be able to lead as well. Afraid that it will happen again."

"If that's what you think." Spitfire said.

"You need to grieve, Spitfire. The Magnificent is going to be in dry-dock for a while, right?"

Spitfire nodded. "We need repairs, that's true," she said, and wondered where Twilight was going with this.

"Take a vacation." Twilight said.

"I will do no such thing, the Wonderbolts need me," Spitfire returned.

"Captain Northstar is capable enough, would you like me to make it official- on the bridge? I can place you on leave if you like."

Spitfire sighed. "No."

"Good," Twilight said. "I'll... stop interfering with your work." 

She left the door open when she left, and Spitfire smiled to herself.

"Princess," Spitfire said, and Twilight glanced back at her.

"Thank you."

Twilight smiled, and nodded before returning to her place. Spitfire took a moment to herself, and opened a desk drawer. In there, buried under dozens of reports, was something dear to her. A letter, dated March 998. She looked at it, turned it over in her hooves, and felt it. Her last remaining memory of him, of Soarin. 

She put it back, and decided where she would go during her "vacation". For now though, duty was still calling.

"Did we get it?" Spitfire asked Echo, as she strode out of her office.

Echo set down the headset, and took a deep breath before turning her chair around to Spitfire.

"Yes, and the planes are heading back now. Three hits..."

She paused, clearly distraught, and looked up at Spitfire with her face twitching with emotion.

"Three misses. Ponyville is on fire."

The rest of the crew, who had been busy at their own tasks, became quiet. Spitfire turned towards them, stone face gazing at their horrified looks.

"The order was mine, and I take responsibility," She spoke, her voice carrying with authority.

Then she turned back to Echo. 

"Carry on."

Echo put her headset back on, and returned to work relaying communications, while Spitfire returned to her own seat.  Twilight looked back at her, and saw her in a new light. She respected her, and her role. She was the military mind, As cold as she seemed, she was right.

She was exactly what Equestria needed. 

Twilight felt a pang of sadness, as she realized the sacrifice Spitfire had made. More than herself, more perhaps than most of them.

Spitfire cocked an eyebrow at her, and she turned back to her station. Out the window, Canterlot finally came into view. Parts of it were dimly lit by fire, while spotlights trained on the sky, and lines of tracers flashed in the sky.

"We can't launch the troopships with those air defences up, bring us broadside." Spitfire ordered.

"Troopships?" Twilight asked.

"That's right, we're using those two destroyers. Groundfire would be far too much to use the landing craft, and they can't glide that far anyway," Spitfire replied.

"Prepare for ground bombardment, condition one."

Twilight had to hold herself in her seat as the ship forcefully turned on it's side. A red light began spinning at he head of the bridge, and their weapons masters barked orders. The ships deck became lit, and the great guns gleamed in the night sky as they turned to face their targets.

When the first gun fired, and shook the ship with it's power, Twilight realized something. 

Spitfire was the single most powerful pony on the planet: with this ship alone she could easily sack Canterlot and take power for herself. Her Wonderbolt's were loyal to a tee, and if asked to choose... 

Twilight was very, very, thankful that Spitfire was loyal, and that power was focused against Equestria's enemies.

Spitfire thought something similar, and while the crew was busy she held a hoof in front of her face, and covered Canterlot with it. From here, the city looked like a toy. A toy that she could crush on a whim. Ponies had killed for the power she had, and she could use it to get so much more, perhaps absolute power. She could rule the world.

She lowered her hoof.

As long as Celestia rose the sun, and Luna the moon, Equestria was in good hooves. Who was she to get in the way of that?

"Air defences are down, deploy ground troops?" Echo asked.

"Make it so, and keep a pair of guns on the castle." 


_______________


"No mercy!" 

Wildcard turned, and saw the insurrectionists on the far side of the shield turn away, their leader gesturing down the road. Near the end, Wildcard could see an injured changeling limping away. How he had gotten there, and what had happened to him, Wildcard did not know.

"You can't kill him, he's no threat to you!" Wildcard shouted, dashing to the edge of the shield past the defenders.

The leader lowered his gun, and slowly turned to face Wildcard. They remained seperated by the shield, Wildcard's face lit by his horn. 

"Really? A shapeshifter is no threat? Even unarmed, your kind represents the greatest threat to decent life in the world. Your evil knows no bounds, and I aim to exterminate it. Ambassador."

He turned, and gestured towards the injured warrior with his sidearm.

"Fire!"

Wildcard was powerless, and could do no more than snarl animalistically in anger as his comrade was cut down by dozens of bullets. He wanted to fight back, to strike, to smash that sneering face into the ground, but he couldn't.

"Look at you, back to your primal instincts. You're an animal, and I'm the hunter. You'll meet your friend soon enough, you can rest easy on that." 

Wildcard snarled at him, but caught himself before totally losing his mind. He forced himself to turn away, and his brain dragged his adrenaline filled body back down the street. He shoved his way past the defending line, and darted into the embassy. He found his wife in his office, and on seeing her calmed down as he came to her side.

He stroked his wive's mane, as she relaxed on a makeshift bed in his office. Keeping the shield up was draining her, much more so than he had hoped. Outside, the situation became increasingly untenable. Dozens of traitors lined up behind their own barricades, aiming at the defenders with assault rifles. The defenders had a few griffon flamethrowers, and rocket propelled grenades, but on the whole were vastly outgunned. When the shield came down, it was going to be a massacre. 

He released her, and quietly closed the door behind him when he left. Outside, the three changelings chosen by Silver Shield stood ready, their chests stuck out at attention. Three changeling warriors, hardened by time and combat in Southrop-Grumman. Their green eyes watched him, waiting for orders. He knew they would follow them to the letter, whatever that letter may be.

"We're leaving, and I need you three for a diversion. This isn't going to be easy, and the risks are absolute, but you'll be heroes whatever the outcome." Wildcard said.

"I want you two to disguise... as my wife and I. The third will also disguise as me, but with a different mission." He said, and pointed to the first two.

"Go into the cave system, and try to make your way inside the castle. When you are found- and you will be found- hold out for as long as you can." 

They nodded, and he turned to the third.

"You will also disguise as myself. Find Mezza Luna. Kill her." He ordered.

Both clearly suicidal tasks, but they needed to divert some of those guards somehow. Holding out at the embassy stopped being a possibility as soon as Luna turned. Now, their only chance was escape. He would be damned if any harm ever came to First Class.

The third grinned, showing his fangs. He was clearly happy with his open-ended objective.

"Take on targets of opportunity however you wish, the important part is you draw off as much of there force as possible. Is that understood?" Wildcard asked.

"Yesss." They hissed.

"Good, now go, and do your duty." Wildcard ordered.

They bowed, which he found a nice touch, and changed form as ordered. They spared him one last grin before departing, passing Silver Shield on the way out.

He squinted at Wildcard, seemingly trying to look through him. He quickly gave up, and decided to just glance below his eyes.

"I hope this is worth it. Those are real, living, changelings you know." He said.

"So are we." Wildcard said, and put a hoof on his shoulder. "We're going to rush the lines. It's our only chance. "

"Not everyone is going to make it, we're still up against a lot of heavily armed enemies. I can't guarantee anybodies safety."

Wildcard led him out the door. "No, but we have a couple aces up our sleeves," he said, and looked down the street.

"What are we contending with now, and what do we have?"

"Seventy warriors, a hundred reservists, and the Equestrian leaders. A total of a hundred fifty, and we've got guns for everyone," Silver said, and turned to his commander.

"Thirty bats at either end of the street, and they've got us outgunned hard. How are you planning to break through them?" 

"Oh Silver, don't you know friendship is magic? Look at them, look how close they are." Wildcard said, gesturing down the street towards the first barricade. Lyra was keeping his agents spirits high, telling jokes even while she manned an emplaced gun.

"We've all soaked up enough magic to give them a run for their money. As soon as I see any sign of hesitation, both lines are going to break. You'll lead the south line, I'll take the North. Use that magic- it'll come naturally." He said.

"You're sure? Not everyone is going to make it out." Silver reminded him.

"I know that, but if we sit here we'll be slaughtered. The die was rolled for us, we've just got to make sure we don't fold. Fight hard, Silver, and meet up in Ponyville."

Silver nodded, and with a sharp salute went to his station at the end of the south road. Wildcard went back inside, to his wife. She still lay in his office, barely awake.  He sat down beside her, and stroked her blue mane.

What a contrast, he thought. This pegasus mare, in all her innocent beauty, married to him. What had he done to deserve this? Not only did she mean everything to him, but she was the changeling races salvation. Proof of everything he had said earlier that evening. He would save his race by destroying it, by merging back with the ponies. It was the only way, and their foal would be the first in a new generation. A generation of changelings not bred in a valley for duty by an uncaring Queen, but by loving partners. Their foal would be stronger, and more intelligent, than his contemporaries. He would be like Chrysalis' current second- Medulla- except not brainwashed into submission. He would also know something Wildcard hadn't- loving parents.

Interestingly: First Class was an orphan. Fate played strange games with mortals.

"Wild, how's it going out there?" She asked, weakly opening her eyes.

He held her head in his hooves, and smiled warmly. "We're in a bad spot, but I'm going to get us out of it. Can you walk?"

She lifted her head, and frowned with the effort. "Nope," she said, letting it fall back into Wildcard's hooves.

Wildcard smirked. "Really? You're the strongest mare I've ever known, and a little thing like keeping a half kilometre wide energy shield up is getting you down?" he joked.

"No jokes, not now. I don't know what you're planning, but if we die- I'll kill you." First Class said.

"I thought you said no jokes?" 

"That wasn't a joke."

Her eyes closed again, and Wildcard felt the magic he was siphoning weaken. He had to go now, or he would lose it completely.   He took a deep breath, and wrapped her in the blanket before slinging his wife over his back. 

"You really going to carry me like this?" She asked. 

"For you, I would carry Celestia up a mountain." 

Wildcard strode out the door, with her on his back. He thought to himself that she must be comfortably padded up there, and took great care with his package, as if he carried the world itself.

In the street, the north barricades troops came to attention as they saw him approach. They had long since abandoned their changed forms, but still wore the police uniforms.

"All warriors?" Wildcard asked himself, looking down the line. 

It seemed that all the reservists had gone with Silver, or else he had ordered them to. 

Wildcard understood. Silver Shield had taken the harder task on himself: the south barricade had a much longer run to get out of the city. He made his choice, and decided to save as many changelings as he could. 

"Weapons ready. We're going to charge the line. I assume you all were taught basic combat spells?"

They nodded.

"Good, you should be pretty well charged now. It'll come naturally."

Again they nodded, and gave him toothy grins. A changeling warrior was bred for combat, and like most things loved to do what they were meant to do. They had all be been taught basic magic, but it was rare to see it in use. Canterlot was going to see the power of a changeling century at it's best.

Wildcard looked past them, and to the opposing barricade. The enemy leader watched him, seemingly bemused by all this. Wildcard remembered to earlier, and his eyes glowed a bright blue as his anger grew. The changelings behind him met this with a green glow of their own as they felt it. 

When Chrysalis had originally designed them, she had done it well. A changeling leader was able to, through the same mechanism that allows love to fuel magic, turn the warriors into a ferociously unstoppable horde if they concentrated enough. They would feel no pain, and could very well run themselves to death before giving up. He hadn't used this power in a long, long time, but he hadn't forgotten it either.

"And another thing!" He shouted furiously. "We show these cowards no mercy, and we give them no quarter! I want their leader for myself, kill the rest!"

"Weapons ready!" Wildcard shouted, and threw a hoof towards the edge of the shield before him.

His force lined up before him, rifled pointed at the few dozen traitors on the other side. The leader stepped forward from the line, and adjusted his helmet as he looked at Wildcard.

"You can't possibly break through our lines, surrender!" The leader shouted down at them.

"The hell I can't!" Wildcard shouted back.

His nemesis raised his sidearm, and his troops racked their weapons. Wildcards did the same, and their horns glowed green with magic. In the distance, a light flashed, and for a moment the Canterlot Castle was silhouetted in the sky. A deep rumbling explosion echoed throughout, and the enemy leader glanced back for just a moment.

It was all Wildcard needed.

"Charge!" He yelled, and dashed forward.

The shield came down, and his warriors lunged forward sending green beams piercing down the street towards their enemy. They screamed insanely, and discharged their conventional weapons along with magic. Wildcard drew the shield around himself, and went behind them. 

Their charge had one hell of an effect, and they quickly swept through the first line of insurrectionists. The line behind staged a hasty retreat, and ran firing backwards. 

"No mercy!" Wildcard yelled, and his warriors brought them all down, quickly leaping over their fallen bodies in their unstoppable blitzkrieg. Their leader had abandoned his post early, and frantically ran ahead of them down a side street.

The war party slid around the corner, and came within view of the city wall. The only thing that stood between it and them, was a single frightened insurrectionist, running in terror. When he reached the wall, he looked back at them with horror in his eyes.

He emptied his entire magazine, futilely, at the charging party. Two of the warriors were cut down, but the whole wasn't slowed at all. 

"Halt!" Wildcard ordered his party.

His warriors stopped, while he strode up to the terrified bat pony. 

"I was just following orders!" He yelled, and tossed aside his rifle.

Wildcard came upon him, while he cowered in fear. The changeling felt something he hadn't in quite some time, the bittersweet taste of fear. He drank it, and felt the magic swell in himself. 

"Orders. Just following orders. You committed treason. You committed murder." Wildcard said, scowling at him while his own agents closed in.

The pony glanced to the side, and then back at Wildcard. 

"I surrender!" he protested.

Wildcard picked up his rifle, and levitated it before his face. The fire from anti-air guns behind him flashed every few moments, lighting the scene.

Wildcard melted the gun, magically, and let it's molten husk drip to the ground. The gunpowder ignited harmlessly, flaming before Wildcard's face. The pony was in a state of sheer terror, which only fuelled him more.

"I don't care." Wildcard said, and picked him up in a green field. 

The pony struggled, and gazed in horror at the hissing mass of changelings below him as he raised into the air. Wildcard began to cackle, and gripped him tight in that field. 

"No mercy!"

The last thing he heard before Wildcard sent him bursting through the wall, was the thunder of the Magnificents cannons. The last thing he saw, was a hundred green eyes.
> Arc: Quietly Into the Night IV
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Bon-Bon had been on watch duty when the alarms sounded, and now she sat near the concrete staircase that led back up to the bunkers entrance. She kept her gun close, and kept her eyes both on her herd, and on the machine before her. One of an increasing number of teleprinters hooked into a gigantic system that ran throughout the tunnels below Canterlot, and connected to a central station in the city. The central signals station, through which all of Equestria's military signalling was routed. It was well protected by the Night Guard,  although recently that was bolstered by Celestia's centurions, who Bon-Bon greatly admired. Perhaps one day, she would be one of them. The best of the best, Celestia's right hoof in these dark times. 

The last message had been thus:

FLASH: ATTACK CONFIRMED — CIVILIAN SHELTER ORDER: CODE TWILIGHT — WAR PLAN RED — COMMUNICATION BLACKOUT —

Bon-Bon shuddered as she read it again. 

“War Plan Red”

That plan, one of a great many, was perhaps the worst. It specified an attack from within Equestria itself, and one that had such overwhelming force that the defending force had no hope of victory. The protocol for such was simple: no surrender; the only hope for survival was to hold out for reinforcement. War Plan Red was reserved for only the most terrible of situations, and the capital itself being under attack certainly fit the bill.

It was, in essence, a death warrant. She had never expected to see one, no less be part of one in Canterlot of all places.

Code Twilight meant the civilians were to be rounded up into the "Twilight Shelters.", which was the moniker given to the defence bunkers built, by great expense on the orders of Princess Twilight Sparkle. She wasn't much of a war leader, but her organizational skill was quite apparent. Hundreds of these shelters, one of which Bon-Bon was in charge of, went up nearly overnight. Each ranking officer had a block and a plan, which had been rehearsed dozens of times. These places had saved hundreds in Manhattan and, tonight, in Canterlot. Equestria owed Twilight a great debt.

She looked back at her herd huddled together in the dim light, and sighed. There was a certain green pony that was missing, and her absence worried Bon-Bon greatly. Lyra had saved her from the muddy trenches south of the Changeling Hive, and was her soul-mate. Bon-Bon had given her families estate to the green mare, since she was forced to sell it at the start of this atrocious saga. Apparently she had become rather close with a changeling bureaucrat, whom seemed nice enough. Still, anybody with that obvious a thirst for power wasn’t to be trusted with her loves life. Lyra was too naive to see it, but the  “stallion” clearly saw any pony else as mere tools, to be used and discarded. Just like the rest of their “leadership”. Celestia, and her protege Twilight, were the only ones that seemed to really value life. So naturally they were both forced out of power by a certain lunar pony.

While Bon-Bon kept an eye on them, those ponies quietly talked amongst themselves while the explosions above continued. Over the last few minutes the larger sounding ones had stopped, and for the most part only the crack of small-arms could be heard. The ponies weren’t sure what to think however, and they all had the same question on their minds.

“Did we win, or did we lose?”

“Queen Luna”, what an embarrassment. How Celestia hadn’t realized that Luna was just manipulating events to fulfill her thousand-year-old ambitions for total power was beyond Bon-Bon, but so was most politics. All she really cared about was keeping these ponies safe, and that’s where politics intersected. Bon-Bon had watched from the sidelines as the Night Guard was given unlimited power, and now she saw the results of that. Luna was a fool, and her short-sightedness had cost hundreds, if not thousands, of innocent lives. The shelters would help, but an attack from within wasn't what they were designed for.

The machine beeped, and Bon-Bon jumped back from it, startled. After a moment it buzzed, and printed out a short message.

THE NIGHT REIGNS —ALL CLEAR, CIVILIAN PONIES ORDERED TOPSIDE FOR CLEAN-UP.

Bon-Bon felt a chill go down her spine, and was almost overtaken by a sick feeling in her stomach. So that was it, Equestria as she had known it was dead. As if the Griffons weren’t enough, the Lunar Princess had turned treasonous once again. The all-clear signal was clearly fabricated, although some of the more nervous block-leaders might be given to following the order anyway. Bon-Bon was not so stupid.

She still had a job to do, and these ponies needed her. So she crumbled the message up, and turned to her herd. 

“Listen up!” she shouted to get their attention.

“I want a report on how much food and water we have. We’re going to be here a while.” she said.

Bon-Bon flicked a switch beside the teleprinter, and behind the crowd a dozen more lights came on to reveal rows of bunks and metal closets. They had a few weeks supplies down here, hopefully enough to hold out combined with whatever the civilians brought.

The crowd of thirty ponies, standing together in that dimly lit concrete chamber, lowered their heads with collective sadness. They understood what her order meant, and resigned themselves to their fates.

“We lost.”

Bon-Bon felt it with them, but steeled herself to her duty. She needed to put on a strong face for them, and did so.

“Get to it!” She ordered.

That sparked them to action, and they started collecting the belongs they had managed to bring, along with the supplies in the bunker itself, into a pile. One of them was taking charge of that, which gave Bon-Bon a chance to collect herself and think.

If Luna had turned against Celestia, than holding out for rescue wasn't an option. The Night Guard would surely break down the door soon enough, or else somehow convince Bon-Bon it was all clear. She couldn't trust the surface for rescue, so her only option was to escape to the country somehow.

The city was lost, but if this bunker was built under it, then there must be access into the caves somewhere. Probably a small tunnel for running the communications wires. Wherever it was though, it was well hidden. Obviously keeping people from entering the evacuation chambers from behind had been thought of during their construction. So Bon-Bon began tapping at the walls, working her way along them, looking for some sign of a hollow area. 

Clack

Clack

Clack

Clackaaack

Bon-Bon paused, and hit that area again. She thought she could hear a faint echo behind, as if her tapping was bouncing down a hallway.

“I need a unicorn…” she mumbled, and her thoughts once again turned to Lyra.

“I need a unicorn!” she repeated, loud enough for the rest to hear.

“Here!” one of them shouted back, and came through the group towards her. He was a rather well built stallion, and wore his fetlocks markedly unshorn. His swagger suggested the obvious, but Bon-Bon only smiled amusedly. Her barn door swung in quite the opposite direction. He was wearing the standard cover-alls of a manual labourer as if it was a suit and tie, but his messy-mane, and dirt covered yellow coat, betrayed the reality of his career. He was one of the enormous force of manual-labourers that poured their energy into making new ships of war in the dry-docks. 

“Overcast, at your service,” he said, and gave a polite bow.

She tapped at the spot of the wall, and stepped back from it.

“Open this,” Bon-Bon ordered.

“Gladly.” 

Overcast charged his horn, and a moment later blew the wall open with a burst of red energy. 

Bon-Bon coughed and waved aside some dust before sticking her head out into the dark tunnel beyond. Just as she thought, dozens of wires ran along the ceiling. Eventually, she thought, there must be a way into the caves from here. So she looked to the group, and told them her plan.

“We’re going to look for a way out, the rest of you stay here,” she said, while she quickly collected her rifle.

"Don't open that door for anything!" She added.

With a nod to Overcast, she led him into the tunnel. The red light of his horn lit the way ahead, and Bon-Bon found it rather surreal. Their hoof steps echoed up and down the hallway, giving her goosebumps from the feeling of being followed. She could swear they were being watched, but her frequent glances behind made that impossible. Nonetheless, she held her rifle tight.

Bon-Bon realized while they walked that, other than their footsteps, it was totally silent. Either they were too deep to hear the sounds of war outside, or the city had utterly fallen. Overcast seemed spooked by it, and calmed himself by chattering on about his job. He was doing his very best to impress Bon-Bon with his feats of naval engineering, including apparently moving a six-tonne naval gun all by himself. He was quite proud of his work, and went deeply into detail about a new ship called the Marauder. An impressive design, apparently.

She paused, and put a hoof to his chest. His heart beat quickly, and he leaned down to her.

“Overcast, I’m taken.”

The poor stallion was crushed, and looked way to hide it.

“That’s… fine,” he lied.

Bon-Bon laughed, and slapped him on the shoulder.

“It’s not you, it’s just I… don’t quite go for stallions.” 

His ego instantly repaired itself, once it realized that it was no lack of charm that had lost him his prize. He turned back to her, and smiled.

“All the good ones…” he joked, and gestured on ahead.

Bon-Bon chuckled, and led him onwards. The momentary lifting of their spirits quickened their pace, and a few minutes later they found a door at the end of the hallway. As expected, and to her chagrin, Bon-Bon found it locked.

“Can you…”

The door was forced off it’s hinges into the room beyond before Bon-Bon could complete her request. The light from beyond was blinding, and she stumbled backwards from it.

“Who are you!” a voice demanded.

Bon-Bon raised her rifle unsteadily at the light.

“Who’s asking!” 

“Malgavian! Night Guard Tactical Command!” The voice replied. “One of the good ones!” it added.

Bon-Bon wasn’t so sure, and squinted through the harsh light to see a figure pointing it’s own gun down at her. She kept hers steady.

“Oh yeah?” 

“Yes! I assure you, dear pony, that I’m not with the others! We’re not all… like that.” He said, with a bit of disgust in his voice.

“I’m sure you aren’t, now lower your weapon!” Bon-Bon demanded.

“You heard her!” Overcast added.

To her surprise, Malgavian threw down his weapon. Bon-Bon lowered hers in turn, and looked curiously at the thestral standing beyond the portal.

“I told you, we’re not all like that,” he said, and stepped aside.

Bon-Bon exited into the room beyond, and found dozens of injured bat ponies lined the walls, and dozens more tended to them. Racks of weapons and loose supplies were on the walls, and at one end of the room a dark cave ran into the abyssal darkness. Two guards, with  mounted heavy machine guns, watched it intently. 

“Corporal Bon-Bon, GHT1889, Castle Guard. So, it’s true, Canterlot has fallen?” Bon-Bon asked as she looked over the room.

“For now, yes. We’ve been mounting hit-and-run attacks, but the… traitors… have superior weaponry. They’ve locked most of us in the mountain, we’re all that remain of those loyal to Luna.”

Bon-Bon eyed him suspiciously. He looked just like any thestral, and the dim light didn't help much. All she could really make out, beyond his glowing eyes, was a glowing patch on his shoulder.

N.G.T.C

“Now, correct me if I’m wrong…” she said, and prodded him with her rifle, “… but isn’t this all about Luna, or Nightmare Moon, or whatever that bitch is calling herself now?” 

Malgavian cringed at the obvious disrespect, but released his anger with a deep sigh.

“I can understand why you would think that, but she had nothing to do with this. It’s only a sect of extremists that think they know what’s best for Her Highness, over her own orders. They’re deluded into thinking they know better than Luna herself, and will stop at nothing to ensure she’s the only princess in Equestria. They did this…” he sighed, and leaned against the wall.

“We did this, and we are forever shamed. For millennia our two races have been friends, separate but equal. Now that relationship is shattered, and we both pay the price for our own cowardice, our unwillingness to fight the evil that had taken root. Mezza Luna was our greatest leader, and our worst. We should have seen the signs when she insisted that Luna was going to try to take the throne again. She built us a great military, and filled our hearts with a desire for everlasting night. You ever see the Magnificent? That was ours. When Luna came back, and denied her this "final victory", she was heartbroken. I think it drove her insane, honestly. Imagine spending your entire life training for someone, only for them to tell you you're wrong. It broke her. ”

"Imagine if you were told you could have the sun rise forever. Would you not be tempted? Giving up that idea was a hard pill to swallow."

Bon-Bon left absorbing that exposition for later. 

“I have civilians, we’re looking to get out of the city. Can you help me?” she asked.

Malgavian shook his head.

“I’m afraid not. The tunnels are crawling with traitors, and they aren’t shooting blanks,” he said, and gestured behind him.

Bon-Bon followed his hoof to find a pair of changelings, quite badly wounded, amongst the others. They lay on the ground, embracing each other tightly as their lives slipped out into a damp towel around them.

“They were apparently down here to cause a distraction, and they certainly did. Crafty little bugs collapsed a tunnel, and took out a few dozen traitors. Ended up getting shot eventually.” He said, and led her over to them. 

One of them weakly opened his eyes, and looked at Bon-Bon pleadingly.

“I’m afraid there’s not much we can do but ease the pain, it’s the end of the road for them,” Malgavian said.

Bon-Bon reached down, and touched the forehead of the one looking at her. It was cold.

He reached up and weakly grasped her own hoof, and with a gentle green glow around himself seemed to feel some relief for a moment. He smiled weakly, and then closed his eyes. Bon-Bon felt a tug at her insides, as if she had just run a marathon, but let that energy flow freely. The second changeling gasped for a second, and then shuddered with relief as he too glowed for a moment.

“Goodbye, friend pony.”

It was the last words that changeling would ever say, and Bon-Bon wiped a tear from her eye before turning away. To think, that these creatures had once been seen as their natural enemies. They were just as good as any.  Knowing she had helped them pass without pain made her exhaustion worthwhile.

“So now what?” she asked Malgavian.

She was startled by the sound of yelling at the rooms mouth, and then the roar of gunfire exploded into the air. The light of muzzle flash’s lit Malgavian’s face as he looked at her, unfazed by the commotion.

“We die.”


----


Flash Sentry awoke, and immediately felt pain from what seemed to be every synapse in his body. Which he was thankful for- it meant he wasn’t dead. He opened his eyes, and looked over his immediate surroundings. He appeared be laying on the floor of the throne room, with the only light being flashes from outside. He couldn’t remember what had happened, all he could recall was a very angry alicorn staring them down. 

With a grunt of pain, Flash stood, and to his surprise found he had been relieved of his radio gear. His limbs were all there though, although his prosthetic was bent into uselessness. He tore it off, better 3 working legs than be hobbled by it.

Granted, four would be better. 

“Flash…” Mary groaned.

He found her lying nearby, as bruised as he was, but alive.

“Next time they ask me to arrest an alicorn, I’m going AWOL.” she mumbled.

Mary stood, and snapped her shoulder back into position with a yelp of pain. Beside her she found Big Mac, and put a hoof to his neck.

“Well, he’s alive, but it looks like he has a concussion,” she said, and rummaged through her medkit.

While Mary tended to their red comrade, Flash looked around for the remaining two of their troop. He found Excavo nearby, and woke her. She was rather shaken, but nothing a little sleep wouldn’t clear up. Brigadier Sunshine was nowhere to be seen, however. 

The rest of the room was empty, and they seemed to be alone in the castle.

“Anybody seen the brigadier?” Flash asked openly.

He then realized how oddly silent it was, and automatically reached for his rifle.

Which was gone.

“Where’s my gun!” 

“Where’s my gun!” Big Mac shouted.

Flash felt a quick wave of panic. They were unarmed, and cut-off without their radio. Their commander was nowhere to be seen, which meant…

“I’m taking charge. Get yourselves together, we’re leaving.” Flash ordered.

“I ain’t going anywhere without my gun!” Big Mac shouted, and frantically tossed rubble aside in a mad dash to find it.

“You will do as ordered corporal!” Flash shouted back, and the enormous pony halted in his search.

He sighed, and turned to face Flash.

“Yes, sir.” 

Flash hid his relief that he wouldn’t have to confront his friend. 

“Good, we can get you a new one later. For now, it’s time to get out of here,” Flash said, and looked down the dim hallway.

“This place is seriously starting to creep me out.”

Flash led them out, and the group slowly made their way back down the hall the way they had came. They passed a great many fallen Night Guards, and their formation became very tight to ward off the eeriness of the place. There was nothing but death all around, and they were eager to get out of there.

To imagine, that this had once been a beautiful castle, full of history and gleaming in the sun. A place of safety and wisdom. The seat of power in Equestria. Now it was nothing but a blown-out ruin, full of corpses. The capital itself was burning, and not for the first time this month either. Dark times indeed.

Flash continued along, leading his group, mindful of their lack of arms. Eventually they spotted a figure ahead, and Flash halted them. Silently they watched, and were watched, by the other. The lights flashing from outside highlighted it’s form as it approached, and Flash recognized tiny wings and a curved horn. Rather fat for how short it was.

A changeling in the palace, an oddly re-assuring sight these days. 

“Halt, give us your name.” Flash ordered.

The figure lit his horn so as to reveal his form, and Flash saw what looked to be a chubby black pony. He knew his face from the newspapers, he had become rather famous as of late. Just another flash in the pan, like Rarity or that farmer from Ponyville.

“Prince Wildcard, leader of the changelings. It’s good that I found you.  Your force has retreated, but I’ve discovered something important.”

Flash held his position and eyed the stallion suspiciously. 

“What would that be?”

“The insurgents still control the signals headquarters, I took a look in there, and they’ve been sending all-clear signals  to the evacuation centres. They’re…”

Flash’s eyes grew wide with horror.

“No, no that’s too terrible!”

“Not quite what you think. They’re rounding them all up as hostages at Celestia’s School. You still have a chance to get the word out and save them.”

“Hostages? What do they expect is going to happen? They can’t hold out forever,” Mary said.

Wildcard nodded. 

“Exactly. Their doomed unless you can get word out about this. I quite suspect Luna, in her anger right now, has lost the ability to even care. You see those flashes outside?” he asked.

Flash looked out a shattered window, and saw another light up the sky.

“That’s not gunfire, that’s Her Highness. She tore out of the castle and has been carving a path through the insurgents. Quite something to behold really, an alicorn totally letting loose. Entire blocks going up in smoke; the collateral damage would be amazing had the civilians not evacuated underground, although that seems to be only temporary.”

Flash was awed, and somewhat frightened, by the revelation. That’s why their own force had retreated, Luna had apparently decided to take things on herself. The full power of Nightmare Moon, unleashed against the Night Guard. What an odd, and entirely terrifying, state of affairs. 

Flash looked back towards the changeling, but found he had vanished. No matter, he had delivered enough important information for them to have a clear goal.

“Well, you heard him. We make for the signals headquarters.”


----


Luna saw another figure down below, and shot another ray of explosive energy downwards. It, and everything within ten meters around, exploded with blue fire.

She was not in her normal form, no this situation called for something else. She was armoured, fanged, and her slit-eyes saw through the night as if it was day. Nightmare Moon flew over Canterlot, sending down magic missiles of destruction at her enemy.

“I will take you all down! I’ll send you all back to the hell you belong!” She shouted, and darted between the buildings to dodge gunshots coming from behind. 

"Traitors! Terrorists! I'll have your heads!"

She had taken down hundreds of them, yet they still refused to give up. It was quite pathetic really, throwing their lives away so futilely. Fools, all of them were fools. She flipped over and dispatched the two following her before continuing. 

“Mezza Luna, come out and fight me you coward!” She boomed into the night, and flew back up into the sky. 

She hovered above, looking at the city below her as it blazed in the night. It was a ruin at this point, but she didn’t care. Nothing mattered now, only dispatching her enemy that had cost her so much. The fool has destroyed everything. Luna had respect, she had earned her place in the state, and she had regained the trust of her sister. 

All that was gone. Celestia would never trust her leadership again, nor would the ponies. Not after this.

Furiously, she shot another beam against a random building below, sending it toppling into the street.

She had helped build this city, in a way it was fitting she destroy it. She had freed the thestrals from their overlord, and they repayed her by giving their loyalty to this foolish threstral. What a gift to be freed from her lunar prison, only to become entangled in treason.

Luna sighed, it was her fault as well. She should have been more open to their concerns. Their militarization was obvious, and it was clear a year ago that they had been waiting for her return not so much for her, but for themselves. They wanted to take their place as the master race, rulers of Equestria in the day and the night. It was rather similar to her own mistake, really. Almost poetic that she ended up fighting them. It was as if her own inner demons had been given corporeal form, and she had to destroy them physically as much as mentally. 

Now was not a time for poetry however, and Luna soared back down towards the city to begin her hunt anew. 

A red beam flew past her head, and exploded a building beside her. Luna spun through the debris and turned around, and saw her prey looking back at her. She wasted not a moment, and shot a blue beam at her.

Mezza Luna was unfazed as the bolt bounced off herself, and grinned at Luna madly. She held a staff, which seemed to be made of the night sky itself.

Starswirl's staff.

"That staff does not belong to you, traitor! A great pony once held that staff, and now you tarnish it with your evil!"

“Like it? I liberated it from that that changelings home. He’ll be needing a change of paint, by the way.” she teased.

“You may have Starswirls staff, but your mind is too weak for it's power! Give up, and die with some dignity!” Luna shouted at her inferior, and darted towards the hovering thestral.

“Oh I think not, dear Princess. I know your weakness now, I know where we went wrong. You love these ponies too much, it’s pathetic. Don't you see how superior we are, you and I? You are a wolf that believes she is an ant.”

“You call this superiority? You’re nothing, Mezza Luna. Just a footnote in history, another spark out of the fire. You’ll fizzle out just like the rest.”

Mezza Luna blew Luna back with a burst of air when she got close, and held her in a red field before she could react.

“I think not. You burnt out a thousand years ago, and only this pathetic shadow remains. I am loyal to the true Luna, the Luna that knew her own superiority. If I have to destroy you to give us our rightful station as rulers of this nation, I will.”

"Did you know we had a plan to deal with your sister? I practiced with this staff, and I was to be the one to put her down for good. Oddly fitting that it be used against you, who has become nothing but Celestia's dog."

Luna struggled, and the field fizzled as she started to break free. Mezza Luna squinted with exertion to keep it intact.

“I did not burn out, I grew brighter, wiser!” She shouted, and shattered the field.

Mezza Luna shuddered for a second, and frantically threw a hoof up.

"Wait!”

“Why? I should crush you now, you whelp!”

Luna’s nemesis collected herself, and grinned.

“If you kill me now, my forces will destroy Celestia’s school. There’s hundreds of ponies there, and they’re cowering in fear, hoping for you to save them.”

Luna glared at her, and her horn radiated with energy.

“You think hostages will stop me? I let you go, and you’ll kill them anyway.”

Mezza Luna cackled.

“You kill me now, and Celestia will never trust you again. She'll know what you did, and forever she will blame you. Kill me, and you lose your sister forever.”

Luna paused.

“Leave, now.”

Mezza Luna grinned, and savoured her victory.

“NOW.”

“So be it.”

Mezza Luna dropped from the sky, and left Luna hanging there glaring at her. Her anger presented itself as an arcing field of magical energy around, sparking fires below her. Luna could hold it for but a half minute, until she exploded with anger and decimated the ground below. Exhausted, she then dropped to the ground, and released a great sigh.

"Perhaps you were right, Sister. Oh what I would give for your wisdom now."


---


Flash Sentry saw it, and halted in the street. A brilliant white flash that lit up the sky, followed by a tall trail of smoke, lit by fire from below.

“That looked like it came from the political quarter, that’s…”

He paused, and a horrible realization came to him.

“Oh no, no…”

“No, they can’t have! Nobody is that.. that vile! Nobody could do anything that horrible!” He shouted.

“What are you talking about?!” Mary asked frantically.

Flash turned to her.

“The school... they actually did it.” Flash screamed back, and then turned away from her.

“You bastards, I’ll kill you all!”

“Flash, Flash calm down!” 

Mary put a hoof on his shoulder and tried to calm him down, while the rest of the squad looked on.

“Calm down? They just killed hundreds of innocent ponies, I’ll calm down when they’re all buried!”

“Yeah, he’s got the right idea!” Big Mac shouted, and pumped his weapon in the air.

Flash turned to his squad.

“On me! We’re going to show these bats what happens when you mess with ponies!”

He stormed off, and most of his squad quickly took his tail.

“The only good bat is a dead bat!”

Mary, however, stopped and watched him storm off. She tried to think, but a secondary explosion rattled her out of it. Looking to the sky, she could see the flames rising from away.

“I’ll follow you into hell, Flash. Only for you.”


---


It took them a half hour to cross the remaining breadth of the city, and arrive near the signals centre. In that time they picked up a dozen or so straggling airborne that had become separated by their units, and had been cowering in alleys. Their hearts blazed at the news of Mezza Luna’s crime, and then formed an angry, well armed, mob; picking weapons off the streets. Flash led them, with Mary taking his right, and Mac on his left. They paused in the street, with the signals centre in a fenced-off clearing before them. It rose like a monolith over it’s immediate surroundings, and was remarkably less battle-damaged than the rest of the city.

“Plan?” Big Mac asked.

“We kill them all, we'll show them what happens when you mess with ponies.” Flash said, and gestured at the gate.

“Got it,” Mac said, and spun around to deliver a kick to the gate. It flew off it’s hinges, and the mob swarmed in, screaming incoherently as they raced to find their pray.

A single thestral emerged from the doors to the building, unarmed and with their hooves over their head. 

“Don’t shoot, we surrender!” He shouted frantically.

They did.
-

Half an hour later Flash, with Mary at his side, breached the inner sanctum of the building. His followers ran roughshod through, decimating any opposition they came across. It would seem that, for all their advanced weaponry, the Night Guard traitors hadn’t planned for a long engagement. They had, quite simply, run out of ammunition.

They sensed their defeat and tried to run, but the Wonderbolts had returned, and tore them out of the sky. Within the signals station itself, none were allowed to surrender. 

You don’t get to do what they did, and walk away from it. Warriors surrender, terrorists die.

Flash stopped beside the door to the inner comes room, and put his back to the wall. Mary did so across from him, and they tried to listen on the room itself. 

There was only silence.

“Breach the door, and then get back. I’ll take a look inside.” Flash ordered.

Mary nodded, and made a three-count with a hoof. At the end of three, she darted back and blew the doors inwards with her magic. Flash quickly rolled into the new opening, and glanced inside. He quickly scanned the room, and found only one figure within the many desks.

“Hold!” Flash shouted, and brought his rifle to bear on the enemy.

The figure wasn’t stupid, and immediately ducked under the desk.

“Don’t shoot, I’m not one of them!”

Flash laughed, and slowly stepped inside. He motioned Mary to circle the room opposite him, and she did so with her rifle forward.

“A likely story, but I know you’re all the same. At least the Griffons have the courage to meet us on fair terms, arms to arms. You bastards blew up a school.”

Flash hissed the last remark, and his eyes pulsed with anger.

“You don’t get it, I wasn’t with them! I was teleported here! They had me tied up until ten minutes ago!”

Flash pointed his rifle in the direction of the voice, and fired at the movement he saw. It turned out to be a chair, which was ripped to shreds by two rounds.

“Sentry, is that you?”

Flash paused.

“How do you know me?!” he demanded, and swung his rifle looking for the source.

“We met here, when the war started!”

Flash stopped, and lowered his rifle.

“Echo?!”

Echo rose from underneath one of the desks, and looked across the room to Flash. Mary quickly circled around behind her, and 
looked to him for orders.

Flash shook his head.

“Echo, how the hell did you get mixed up in all this? If you’re here, then you’re with them. You better have a good explanation.” Flash said.

“Flash, Luna sent me here. At first I didn’t know why, but then I figured it out. I sent a distress call, the legion is on the way. They know about the hostages. One of the others was trying to get them to bomb the school, said it was a missile site.”

She gestured to the other end of the room, where a figure could be seen on the floor.

"I made him stop."

Flash lowered his rifle, and released a great sigh of relief.

“So it’s over.”

Echo nodded.

“It’s over.”


---


It would be a day and a half before Celestia would return to Canterlot, with the rail station requiring significant repairs.  She had spent her time in the Crystal Empire creating a new treaty that gave the Empire significantly greater autonomy, and in exchange the Empire was finally stepping into the war. They had, to Celestia’s surprise, been rather busy in the last few months. They had a force equal to a third of what Equestria had, and now it was on it’s way to the oceanic front. The news had been able to somewhat dampen the effect of “The Slaughter of Canterlot.”

Canterlot was a ruin, and the castle lain to waste. While civilian casualties were near zero, thousands of thestrals had dies in their quick civil war. The inner-mountain was as ruined as Canterlot, and the race itself was brought to it's knees. The airborne had taken a few dozen casualties of it’s own, and the barely-airworthy hulk of the Magnificent hovering over the city was a stark reminder of where things were. 

Canterlot had not been the only battleground that night. The Hollow Shades had been decimated as well, as the fifth column there sprung into action, but was quickly routed by the Legion forces that had massed in Baltimare. The morning after, Shining Armour had gone in with his own force, and utterly defeated any remaining insurgents. The toll on the thestral race was huge, and this bloody saga left them on the verge of extinction. Mezza Luna was still at large as well, but now the entire combined force of Equestria, The Crystal Empire, the remaining thestrals, and even the Equestrian changelings was looking for her. Mezza Luna would face justice soon, and the race was on to see why would deal it out.

In the meantime, the weather all over Equestria had turned fierce, bringing harsh storms in the lowlands, and bitter frost in the highlands. The Crystal Empire was facing a snowstorm two months early. Ponyville and select farms remained under controlled-weather, in order to better feed the population, but some saw it as favouritism. In Manehatten it had rained for a solid week, and flooding was reported all over the region. Vanhoover was dealing with a hurricane, and Appleloosa hadn't seen rain in months. 

Celestia however, knew that it was her own failings, and not her sisters, that had caused this. Luna had remained faithful to the last, and done her best to correct Celestia’s mistakes. If only she had been more pro-active in her management of the Night Guard, if only she had seen the signs earlier. She had never expected that anyone, not thestral nor pony nor griffon, could unleash such horror on the world. 

The reprisals had been almost immediate. Thestrals had been driven out of most of the smaller towns, and those in the cities faced angry mobs. Equestria was on it’s deathbed, and she could do nothing but watch. What they needed now was peace, but peace was a long way off.

The sun had set on Equestria, and the dark began to set in.
> Intermission: HorseSaw PACT
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

"The heroic tribe of changelings arrived in the dead of the night, and thanks to them hundreds were saved from the chaotic disaster that had befallen Ponyville. Many owe them their lives, and their courageous leader, Wildcard, has been decorated as a Friend of Ponyville."

Wildcard grinned to himself, and continued reading. Despite the cold air, and his sore muscles from another day of training, he was eminently happy. This article was proof positive of the change he was making.

The fact that this article was bought and paid for, and he had a person inside Equestria Daily's editing staff to censor anything that looked ill on them, was just par for the course at this point. Any lies, any subterfuge, and any underhanded dealings that were required to better integrate his people with the Equestrians were well worth it. In this case it wasn't a lie, it was a bending of the truth. Wildcard and his troop had indeed arrived at night, and did indeed help during the chaos that night, but the authorities already had it well in hand by that time. Hyperbole, that was all.

Wildcard at this point managed to convince the Equestrians that changelings should be judged on their character, not their race, and that was a huge accomplishment. He laid the newspaper beside himself on the bench, and looked out at the autumn in Ponyville while he thought.

Winter was coming early, and it was coming with a vengeance. The ponies were clearly not prepared for it, and there was an air of panic that hovered over everything. While he knew the rations would last, the citizens here hadn't had to ration in living memory. They had become used to plenty, and three month long winters. By the rate things were going this one would last six. It would be harsh as well, if winter in the Hive- which was much further south- was anything to go by. It was the middle of September, and already the last leaves had fallen from the trees.

There was no need for the running of the leaves, nature took care of that on it's own. 

"Courageous leader..." Wildcard mumbled to himself, and then slipped off the bench.

Today was the second-last day of his training, and it had been a long few weeks. While he managed to work off a good amount of his "ambassadorial fifty", age meant a good portion of it was going to stay- permanently. He was thirty after all, which for a Changeling Agent was getting into honoured-elder territory. Regardless of his girth, he was in much better shape now, and ready for any challenge that might come.  

Somewhat interestingly, the extra weight allowed him to shape shift into ponies taller than himself. Such as Luna, which was an interesting thought. Wildcard was no fan of suicide though, and left the idea as merely theoretical.

He trotted down the street, happily ignored by the few passerby going to and fro. The ponies of this town had long since gotten used to living amongst the more important ponies of Equestrian society, in fact Wildcard found it rather odd that Twilight was able to live here without being constantly pestered by ponies with an agenda. Perhaps they were better than that, or, more likely, they knew it to be futile. Twilight didn't seem to truly understand the power of her position, or else she was brilliant enough to make others think she didn't. Either she was incompetent, or hyper-competent. Wildcard wasn't making any bets either way. She was certainly intelligent enough, and a force to be reckoned with.

It didn't take him long to arrive at the building that he made his home these days, a simple house on a side-street within view of the town hall. It had been Lyra's at one point, and in a strange series of coincidence was now where he and his wife lived. He had also been promised an office in the town hall, and he would run his "operation" from there until Canterlot was cleaned up.

Which, judging by the scale of damage, would be months. The princesses had been forced to re-locate to Celestia's school, which he could tell only added insult to Luna's injury. She was quite clearly shamed by all this, but there was no sign she would relinquish her power.

When asked about it, by a rather brave reporter by the name of Comic Sans, she had replied simply thus:

"So you say that this disaster was my fault then, that Mezza Luna's treason is because of me? Why then, should I give up my power, when I alone can fix this problem? I would also point out that her treason is her own, and she is quite likely an agent of our enemy. I will not stand down until Equestria is safe again, no matter what happens on the way."

The speech had gone down about as well as one could expect, and there had been protests that night across the country. The pony folk were getting restless, and tired of dealing with all these problems. A popular idea seemed to be that a change in government would somehow, magically, solve the problem. Wildcard was smarter than this, and knew that the griffons would delight at the opportunity to fight a new, untested, government. Luna was not perfect, nor was her sister, but she was the best leader they had.

Better a tested government in a time of crisis, even a poor one, than an untested one.

Until replaced by First Class, of course.

Wildcard grinned at the thought, and opened the door to his home. Inside he found his wife, sitting in a sun-lit table to the side of the doorway. It was covered in papers, with dozens of important state duties represented. Celestia was a kind pony, and allowed her to work from home at this point. Her work now mostly consisted of taking inventory of the Night Guard. They were to be disarmed, by royal decree, and it was a slow process. That decree hung on the wall, as a reminder to the few that came to complain of the power she had.




September 20th, 1002.

I, as Queen Luna, head of the State, do decree the following:

That the Night Guard is to be disarmed, and will no longer function as an independent agency. Their budget, persons, and resources, will be taken into the National Police Force, immediately. Their arms, and also development of such, will fall into the stewardship of the Equestrian Legion.

That the Thestral Race no longer be conscripted into duty with the Night Guard. Duty is voluntary, and on a cycle of four year tours. Any persons already enlisted who choose to stay, and have been found clear of involvement with the recent Treason, can do so. Any that wish to leave, may also do so.

That the Night Guard no longer be uni-racial, or bound to the Thestral Race. Recruitment is open to all races. Similarly, Thestrals are no-longer ineligible for other military, or civil, duties. Thestrals may apply for military or civilian service just as any other race.

That an inquiry be held, no longer than one month from today, into the events leading to the Treason of Mezza Luna. Minister of State First Class will preside, and may call upon any witnesses she deems necessary. The inquiry will publish it's findings no longer than one month after the first witness takes the stand, and has the authority to find persons guilty of criminal charges up to, and including, high treason. Persons found guilty will have their right to a trial by jury waived, and Minister of State First Class has the right to sentence those found guilty immediately. Persons found not guilty will be cleared of charges forever, and no further investigation shall be made. 

That I posses the right to pardon any persons I deem fit from any crimes committed during the treason, in addition to normal rights of pardon. I further extend a blanket pardon to any members of the Equestrian Legion, Wonderbolts, National Police, and civilians during the Treason. 

That Malgavian, in his continuing loyalty to Myself, be given total authority to reform the ranks of the Night Guard in any way he sees fit, according to the clauses made in this proclamation. 

That Princess Celestia shall be given control of the civil affairs of government, to allow Myself to better focus on matters pertaining to the ongoing crisis.  Princess Celestia is given total sovereign control over all matters pertaining to civil law and order, however I retain the right of veto.





The document bore Luna's cutie mark signet, as well as her sisters, and was also signed by First Class- recently promoted to "Minister of State". She was a rising star in the government, and perhaps the only person that had yet to commit the sorts of mistake Celestia and Luna had. The people absolutely loved her, although that Trotsky figure was starting to become a problem. He was the one thing blocking her upward momentum. Everytime she got more power, he would come out and rant in the newspapers about a "new alicorn rising, just another example of political patronage in this country."

Wherever a pony was unhappy, Trotsky was there to stir up trouble. He seemed to have an almost magical knack for being in the centre of nearly every major protest across the country, and was becoming a household name. A great many people gave into his vision of "change."

Wildcard sighed, that sort of change would only lead to their ruin. Gradual change, with the majority supporting it, was what Equestria needed. He understood the peoples desperation, they naturally felt powerless with all the recent chaos, but this was not the way to solve the problem.

"Imagine a world without Princesses, ruled by the will of the many!" 

The many dead, maybe.

There was perhaps some irony in the fact that Wildcard preached gradualism within Equestria, while simultaneously working to overthrow his own monarch. The difference was obvious, however: Celestia wasn't insane.

Wildcard went unnoticed by his wife, who was quite busy going through archival reports to track down the bulk of the Night Guards weaponry. They had a great deal of outposts, bases, and hide-outs scattered throughout Equestria. Tracking them all down, and decommissioning them, was proving a significant hassle. There was also the matter of the secret resources, and those took a talent for fine details to discover. She had to look through expense reports, figure out where any oddities lie, correlate that with any oddities in staffing, and then send a team to where the paper trail led. More often then not, it lead to a dead end, or turned out to be a simple case of bad accounting. She was able to discover the exact cost of the Manehatten Project however, and managed to find a dozen more facilities connected to it. First Airborne was shutting them down, one by one. The resources that all this had been wasting was huge, and returning all that material to the proper authorities was already having a major impact on the war effort. 

It turns out that they could, indeed, construct a second Magnificent. The Night Guard had actually been planning on it before the war started, and had planned to name it Paraselena. The parts for it, which were being found here and there, had been shipped off for some use secret even to Wildcard. First Class was playing coy about the whole thing, and seemed to greatly enjoy keeping the truth from him.

Wildcard snuck around his wife, and put his hooves on her tense shoulders. His massage was received by a coo of relief, as she relaxed into his arms.

"Never stop that," she sighed.

Wildcard smiled, and dug into her tense shoulders. She really had been on edge lately, but who hadn't? Canterlot burned, the battles in the south inched closer to home, and the ocean campaign was at a standstill. 

"Till the day I die." Wildcard said.

For a few minutes, Wildcard silently continued to kneed into her shoulders. Eventually, he noticed that one of the papers on the desk had been edging towards them.

"Continuing to improve are we? By this time next year, you'll be a match for Twilight Sparkle."

First Class giggled.

"Sure, and if you keep growing, you'll be a match for Chrysalis."

Wildcard laughed, and pulled the paper towards him. He found that it was First Class's measurements, and an outline for a rather elegant outfit. Red fabric, with purple silk trim. He felt it would quite suit her, and looked down to see her looking back up at him.

"I need something new, I've... outgrown what I have available at the moment. I do believe you have as well..." She said, with a coy wink.

Wildcard grinned at her. "More of me to love. I suppose it's up to me to get this dress of yours?"

First Class nodded, and turned her attention back to her work.

"Yes, I had it commissioned by the local seamstress- Rarity. She's quite talented, and a clever businessmare. Thanks to her gift for finding gems so easily, she's been able to cut prices and create a monopoly in this area. As such, she negotiated rather hard for this."

Wildcard cocked an eyebrow.

"A thousand bits, it's already been withdrawn, so you don't have to worry about it."

Wildcard sighed, but his complaint was quickly silenced by his wife turning her gaze back to him, and winking ever so cutely. 

"Oh please, we pull in that much every week. Besides, aren't I worth it?"

Wildcard strode back out with the receipt, and shivered as a burst of chilly wind blew through. She was right, he needed a new coat. On his walk, he found a gathering of ponies, and looked over at what had them all so enthralled. 

It was Trotsky, perched on a literal soapbox, preaching to the crowd. Wildcard fell back into a nearby alley, and silently watched him from there.

"Dear people of Equestria, do you think this is how it should be? Princess Luna cares so little for your lives that she allowed a disagreement with her own organization, the "Night Guard", to turn into a terrible tragedy! Where was Celestia during all this? She was in the Crystal Empire! Where was Twilight Sparkle, while Canterlot burned? She was on one of the ships bombing it! Are these the people we want running the nation, are these the mistakes we allow them to make? Good god, they formed a pact with the very creatures that tried to kill them only a year ago! I know not if they are insane, or merely incompetent, but I know this: they are unfit to lead! I don't know what game it is they claim to play, but they play it poorly, and I refuse to play it at all."

He paused, and a mixture of cheers and boos rose from the crowed. Wildcard was relieved that the latter greatly outweighed the former.

"Are you so brainwashed as to think this is the way it has to be? They lead because we let them lead! I ask you, ponies of Equestria, stop letting them!"

Somebody in the crowd shouted at him, and the crown silenced allowing him to repeat.

"They saved us from Discord, twice! What have you done for us?"

Even from this distance, Wildcard could see the grin on Trotsky's face, and wished more than anything to punch it.

"My dear pony, I give you the truth! I offer you justice! They may have done us well in the past, but what have they done recently? Why have they not ended this war? Why did they allow the Night Guard to grow so terrible? Why are we rationing, when we have always known plenty? Answer that, sir!" 

Trotsky pointed out the heckler, and the crowd shifted away from him.

"And you can solve these problems, Trotsky?"

"No, but you can! Without the princesses, we will be strong!"

Wildcard had enough at this point, and shook his head as he slunk back off down the road. The last thing Equestria needed right now was another rabble-rouser stirring things up.

Not long later, he arrived at Rarity's carousel boutique. She was one of the major supplies of uniforms for the army, and there was a truck outside picking up a shipment. 

Most of those uniforms would dissapear into the black market, and re-appear on the more well-off soldiers. Corruption in a time of crisis, every state had it. Wildcard knew all about this, and had been informed about it by Silver Shield. As soon as he officially became head of the Home Guard, there was going to be a reckoning. 

Wildcard walked inside, and was immediately made by the white-coated pony that made this place her home. She shooed off the soldier she had been speaking too, and quickly came to Wildcard.

"Mister Wildcard! Your wife told me you would be coming, and told me you would be requiring my services! Dear me, just look at you..." she trailed off, and pulled Wildcard over to a set of mirrors.

Wildcard looked at himself in the mirror, and for a moment didn't recognize who he was looking at. His furrow was wrinkled, there were a few white hairs in his otherwise dark-grey mane. He was only thirty, but he looked as if he had aged ten years in the last one. His hooves were dry, and cracked, from the cold and dry air as well. He had certainly looked better.

"Dear me, you've got quite a refined palette, don't you?" Rarity said, as she strung a measuring tape around Wildcard's waist.

"You could say that..." he said.

"I most certainly could," she said, and moved around to his flank. 

She poked it, and Wildcard flinched.

"Don't fidget dear, I don't bite."

The cold measuring tape on his underside made him reflexively tense up, and he blushed with awkward embarrassment at the mare inspecting his body.

"You have the same measurements as your wife, that makes this a little easier." Rarity said, and backed off to look over him.

"Of course, she's four months pregnant..."

Wildcard glared at her, and she smiled back.

"Oh come now, I don't judge! Facts are facts, and the fact is you're more pony than most. I can make it work though, don't you fret! I'll have you looking absolutely stunning, you'll make quite a pair with your wife!" 

Apparently finished, she stepped back and looked Wildcard over, with the measuring tape around her neck.

"It'll be a challenge, and I accept. This is one for the history books!. The first changeling with a sense of style. By the way, dear, that little cape on your back could use some work."

Wildcard glanced back at his "cape", and noticed it was a much darker shade of blue than it had been not so long ago.

"Actually, never mind, I can work it in. Give me a day or two, and I'll send you the charges later today."

The next few minutes were a total blur, and he was quickly out on the street, somehow, before he could protest. In a bag over his back- which he had apparently bought- was his wife's new outfit, as well as a hat, and shoes, and a saddle. How that mare had convinced him to buy them, and how much it had all cost, was a mystery to him. It's was as if waking from a dream, and a rather expensive dream at that.

When he arrived home, he found that his wife had left him a note. It read simply that she was out getting the days rations.

Wildcard sighed, rations. It was necessary, but it was a pain. Oh how he yearned for the days of plentiful pie and un-ending cider.

He left his bag beside the desk, and went up the stairs to his own room. Silver Shield and Lyra were taking care of the military and civil organization of the Equestrian Changelings respectively, until Wildcard had concluded his training, but now and then there was still a matter that required his attention. One of these he found had been slid under his door, an unmarked letter. 

It was curious that First Class hadn't told him he had any mail, so he opened it up and sat on the bed to read it.





We need to talk. You will find me at the library.

-Malgavian





Malgavian, the only commander in the Night Guard that had remained loyal to Luna. He stood to gain total command of his race, and the Night Guard, now- or at least what remained of either. Their civil war had been rather bloody, and the survivors found themselves disarmed and dishonoured.  The once mighty Night Guard, watchers that saw all, and questioned by none, was dead.

Hell of a thing to inherit.

Wildcard put the letter aside, and reached under his bed for something. When he felt the box, he breathed a sigh of relief and slid it out. An unmarked white box, stained with grease along the bottom. He levitated it before him, and opened it up.

It was a pie, an apple pie, which had been deep-fried and rolled up. It was, basically, a clump of cholesterol and fat covered with enough grease that it shined. Applebuck made them, and ensured a few made it his way now and then. It was a simple gift, since she had gained a considerable amount of wealth selling to the Hive. The rationing was starting to kill her profits though, so she was turning to less open means. A few orchards had vanished from the books, and their product was sold on the black market. 

If the government ever found out, she would probably lose everything. A risky game. Wildcard made sure he had absolutely no knowledge of it... that could be proven. 

Wildcard ate the thing, and savoured every mouthful. He hadn't eaten anything but oatmeal for weeks, and it was an almost ecstatic pleasure to consume. When he had finished, he put on his coat, burned the box, and left.

It appeared he had a meeting. 


---


A half hour later, Wildcard arrived at the town library. Twilight Sparkle still made it her home, and had returned a few days ago. It was well protected now, a half dozen guards- and an armoured vehicle- stood watch outside. Yet the doors were open, and a few ponies went in and out without any fuss. It was clear that this show of force wasn't for them, it was for somebody else. 

"Halt, changeling!" One of them, draped in decidedly thicker armour, yelled down the road at Wildcard.

Wildcard halted, and waited for him to approach. The guard was flanked by two of his men, but Wildcard was pleased to note that they neither drew their guns, nor had the threatening gait of a soldier trying to intimidate. They were relaxed, and Wildcard was too.

"You're expected, Wildcard. Malgavian has been speaking with Her Highness Twilight Sparkle, and awaits you inside."

Wildcard nodded respectfully, and followed his honor-guard inside. He took a long sideways look at that vehicle that had been positioned outside. It was a great metal construct, on long treads, and a single large gun stuck out from a turret on top. He was surprised Equestria had anything like it, although he had heard the Saddle Arabians and Zebras used similar equipment, and Equestria had run into such things in the south. 

Equestria was catching up, it seemed. He stared at it, and was able to judge it's origin. Near the rear, hastily painted over by a purple star, was the outline of a flag. The Saddle Arabian flag. 

Oh how he wished he was still invited to the security briefings- Silver Shield was appearing in his absence. While Wildcard wasn't ambassador anymore, Luna and the others still appreciated his advice- or at least they pretended to. He was an "Advisor" now, and as soon as his training was complete he would be head of the home guard militias. It would be his duty to investigate matters pertaining to threats within, and without, the Equestrian state that were not critical enough to concern the Legion itself. An interesting change of pace, and certainly a respectable enough role. His changelings would prove crucial in this, and could keep an ear to the ground listening for any whispers of treason.

He would infiltrate most of Equestria's government in order to protect it, an interesting state of affairs, especially considering what had happened only a year earlier. 

His pondering took him until he had reached the top of the library stairs, and to a door guarded by two more soldiers. One of them, Wildcard noted, was a thestral.

"They have been awaiting you for some time, I understand it is quite an important matter." 

The guard that said this opened the door, and Wildcard strode in to find Twilight Sparkle, dressed in all her regal attire, laying beside Malgavian, before a low table. Twilight had before her a tea set, while Malgavian was apparently inclined to harder drink, and was drinking from what looked like a bottle of whiskey. 

Must be nice to be the one making the rules.

The door closed behind him, and then the two noticed Wildcard.

"Ah, Wildcard. You got my message I see, good." Malgavian said, and gestured Wildcard sit across from them.

"I did indeed, I would have come sooner, but my wife didn't inform me you had sent a letter," Wildcard said, and lay himself at the other side of the table.

Malgavian grinned, exchanged a look with Twilight.

"She never knew it. I came, and went, without her or anyone else seeing me. Quite a security hole, if I do say so myself."

"I will see that it is filled, thank you for your... vigilance." Wildcard returned, and eyed the thestral suspiciously.

Malgavian nodded, "You are quite welcome."

"Good, now I do you have some business, or are you just going to make veiled threats at me?" Wildcard asked.

"I do, I do. Citizen Wildcard, since you appear to have no other title, I do. We find ourselves in similar positions, you and I. My race has seen itself brought low by the mistakes of it's leadership, and the folly of those that believed in the propaganda. You have yet to confront your demons, but the time will come. When it comes, I hope you learn from us." Malgavian said.

Twilight cleared her throat and cut in.

"What he means, is that he doesn't want your people to go through what his have. I have summoned him here so that you two can work together. Learn from the mistakes of the Thestrals, and help them in this time of crisis. In return, they promise to help you when your day comes."

Malgavian nodded, and they both turned to Wildcard.

"So you want an alliance, with us? I'm not too sure what we can do for you." He said.

Malgavian snorted. "What can't you do for us? Your agents can make whispers in high places, and placate the masses as seemingly part of them. You can make sure that the hatred building against us is re-directed, perhaps at our mutual enemies. In addition, you can keep a watch over the thestrals in a way I never could, and ensure that Mezza Luna is truly dead. I am humbled to have to ask you this, but we need you. We have lost much, but with your help we need not lose everything."

Wildcard digested the speech for a moment. It's true, he could definitely use his resources to paint a prettier picture of the thestrals, perhaps work on detaching them from the Night Guard in the public mind, and their certainly was a lot of animosity out there now towards them. Lives could be saved, and violence prevented.

But what did he gain?

"I could do this, yes. Your offer however is rather vague, be more specific."

Malgavian rolled his eyes.

"It is not vague at all, citizen. When you face your own demons, we will stand beside you."

Wildcard eyed him, and then Twilight spoke up again.

"For Celestia's sake, he means he'll fight Chrysalis with you. Is it that hard to understand?"

Wildcard grinned. "No, but I wanted you to say it. If you promise me that, that you will face Chrysalis by my side, then I will do all that I can to help you. You are correct in that we are in the same position. We both want our people to know a future without segregation, mistrust, or fear. Together, we can accomplish this."

Malgavian stood, and stuck out his hoof. Wildcard did as well, and with great smiles on both sides, the Thestral-Changeling pact was established. It was never written, it was simply an agreement between the two leaders of the races. From that day on, they walked together as one. Twilight watched them, and smiled. She knew her place in the world, and understood it now. She wasn't like Celestia, the great and just ruler of Equestria, or like Luna, whom had acted as their shield. Cadence was the Princess of Love, and the protector of the Crystal Empire, but she was different from her as well. Princess Twilight Sparkle was the Princess of Friendship, the great mediator. Today she had brought together two peoples that had been natural enemies not long ago, and saw them forge a friendship binding them together. So proud was she of this accomplishment, that she felt a tear bead in her eye.

I know who I am now.

	


	
> Intermission: Snow Day
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Spitfire took a long loop over the city, flying high over it in the Hurricane. It was tranquil, still, and covered in snow. Looking at it, one began to forget that Equestria was at war at all. 

Highbreeze, situated up near the peaks of the Foal Mountains. A plateau of snow, far further south than the Crystal Empire. Tourism was it’s main export, but Spitfire had no time for such things. Her reason was more logical, and was kept in a briefcase that she kept close to her.

This was Soarin’s home, and she had a duty to fulfill here. The Wonderbolt’s had an entire division tasked with taking care of it, but Spitfire felt she needed to do this personally. 

Princess Twilight Sparkle had placed her on leave, somewhat voluntarily, while the Magnificent was in dry dock. That gave her a month to herself, the first two weeks she had spend alone, in the highlands of Equestria, near Cloudsdale. 

Their she had thought, long and hard, about her past; and future. She had pondered on what she had done right, and what she could change. It had been an enlightening experience, because in the end she had one conclusion.

Nothing.

She had regrets, but even those regrets were a part of her that made her stronger. She had made mistakes, and those too had made her stronger. Everything she had done, she had done to the best of her abilities. She looked back on herself, her entire life, and was proud of what she had done, and who she was. She fulfilled her duty to the utmost, and was perhaps the most successful leader in the Wonderbolts storied history.

That didn’t make the task ahead any easier however, and with a deep sigh she looked to the briefcase. It had been with her the entire time, as the day she planned to spend in the mountains turned to weeks. She had been putting this off, but it couldn’t wait forever. 

Spitfire turned her attention back the controls of her vessel, and drove it down through the air. Almost like a feather, wafting in the wind, so perfect was her control over it. She touched down just outside the city, disturbing a patch of snow to reveal the still-green grass beneath. 

Winter was coming early, which for Highbreeze simply meant a longer tourist season. For Equestria as a whole though, it meant rationing. The pegasi were afield, and had greater matters to attend to than weather-patrol. A select few, those extremely gifted at guiding the weather, stayed behind for critical areas. That was only a tiny minority of the whole however, and the rest was left to suffer on it’s own.

“Damn griffons.” Spitfire mumbled, as she went through the procedure of shutting down her craft. The humm of the engines silenced, and the spiralling vortex of snow outside settled itself down. Spitfire donned her uniform-coat, and a minute later stood outside, looking towards the city in the distance. The briefcase came with her, attached to her coat at the barrel.

It was quite beautiful. Wooden homes, and taller modern buildings, capped with fluffy snow. They reflected the evening sun back into the sky, casting everything in an almost pink glow as the light reflected back down from the few clouds. Peaceful, quiet, exactly what Spitfire needed after so much tragedy.

The battle of the Hive had given way to the Liberation of Baltimare, which had in turn given way to the Blitz of the Horseshoe Bay. Not even weeks after, she had arrived on the shores of Waylay island, where she, and the Wonderbolts, lost so much in defence of their country. Scant weeks after that, she had returned to Equestria, and had to put down an armed resistance with incredible force. Canterlot was nearly leveled, by her command.

She had done her duty well, but was at this point exhausted. She had seen what no pony had seen since the formation of Equestria: open war. She had seen more death than the last thousand years combined, and a good deal of it by her own order. Even Spitfire, the greatest commander the Wonderbolts had ever seen, had her limits. If only she could have brought the Magnificent with her, the crew deserved this more than she did.

Spitfire strode off towards the city, her hooves crunching in the snow. She decided not to fly, better to savour the pleasant evening. It was just cold enough to feel it on your skin, but not cold enough for frostbite to be a major risk. A light coat was enough, perfect weather to contrast with the heat of Waylay island.

Spitfire had always liked snow, she found it a pleasant contrast to herself. Snow and fire, the attraction of opposites. On approach to the first series of buildings outside the main city, which she had read about before; a resort for the more well-of ponies, her eyes beheld a spectacle that made her pause, and look to the north in awe.

The aurora-borealis, in its full grandeur, lit up the sky as if a switch had been flicked on somewhere. It was magnificent to behold, and so spectacular that Spitfire swore she could even hear a faint humming. Never before had she ever seen anything so beautiful, and for almost ten minutes she simply stood there, watching the colours of charged-gas dance in the sky. It almost even seemed to tell a story, as the green spectre encircled the purple, and the yellow one attempted to intrude. It was always pushed back, but never stopped trying. Yellow, low-altitude oxygen charged by energy from space. It was battling upwards, trying to escape it’s earthy confines. It never could though, it would always be forced back down. 

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?”

The soft voice would normally have startled Spitfire, but she was so relaxed at this point that she only turned, and smiled at the visitor. 

An older stallion, wisened by age. She faintly seemed to recall his face, but couldn’t quite place it. His cutie mark, and most features, were covered by a thick cloak he wore to keep out the cold. Not everypony was as naturally hot as Spitfire.

“It really is. Do you see these often?” she asked.

“Like this? Oh no, but we do see them now and then. I haven’t seen it this strong in decades,” he said, and stared up with Spitfire.

“You know, they say that when it glows as brightly as this, that it’s because Equestria is facing a great challenge. The brighter it is, the stronger we are in the face of whatever threatens us.”

“It’s quite bright,” Spitfire noted.

“Indeed, and I think that no small part of that is you. Come with me, Spitfire, I have something to show you.” He said, and Spitfires gaze shifted down to him.

“Who are you?”

He snorted, as if it was obvious.

“In due time, I think you will recall soon enough.” 

He trotted off, and Spitfire followed her curious companion towards the small village. There was something in his walk that she sensed, in his long and purposeful strides, that set her mind ablaze. This pony had known command before, and walked as one that had once towed armies behind him.

Who was he?

He, whoever he was, led Spitfire to a small hut outside the larger buildings. It was quant, and lonely, but certainly cozy enough.  A well cared-for series of ice sculptures sat outside before it, the thin light coming from inside through the windows reflecting through them, and painting the front yard with rainbows. Spitfire followed him through them, and noted what they were. Each was a great Wonderbolt leader, with Hurricane in a position of honour in the middle.

Beside him, was herself.

“I’m rather good at it, if I do say so myself,” he said, noticing where Spitfire’s gaze had gone.

“Why?” Spitfire asked.

“To remember, of course. I remember those that came before me, and after, to keep perspective on who I was. He is in the middle, because it was he who gave us form and purpose. He led us into battle against hell itself, and protected Celestia in those dark days. You do much the same, although the political landscape has changed somewhat.”

He turned to her, and smiled. 

Captain Lightdash, her predecessor. She had forced him out of office fifteen years ago, by humiliating him at a flying contest. She had beaten him so throughly that the shame made him retire without even promoting her; Celestia had to do it herself.  Spitfire never cared where he had gone, only that he was.

And now he was smiling at her.

“Captain, you should have said something! I would have come earlier, and dressed properly!” Spitfire protested.

“Oh please, Spitfire. I’m not a captain anymore, you saw to that quite well fifteen years ago. I meant to thank you, by the way.”

He turned, and strode off towards his home.

“It means I don’t have to clean up this mess.”

He opened the door, and gestured the still-stunned Spitfire follow him inside. Not seeing a way to escape, she did so.

“A rather interesting craft you have there, by the way. Too good for your own wings?” Lightdash said as he put away his snowy boots. 

Spitfire merely stood there awkwardly, as the snow fell off herself to the floor of the entryway.

“Dear me, Spitfire, where’s the fight gone? Are you so afraid of an old stallion that you’ve lost it?”

He hobbled off to the larger room to the side, which appeared to be his dining room. It looked out to the yard, and the table was already set- for two.

“No I.. I just don’t know how to properly respect you. This is all so sudden, a-“

Lightdash laughed, looked back at her.

“Respect never stopped you in the past, and I’m just a civilian now, Air Martial Spitfire.”

“Too good to be a captain too, eh?” He added.

“Celestia felt… that a re-organization was required for our new role. I have additional duties to those of a Captain, and more independence of doctrine.”

He laughed again.

“So why not just give those duties to the Captain? It’s a hell of a break from tradition all this. I think you just like the title, it’s got a little more flair to it.”

Spitfire was about to reply, but Lightdash broke in before she could.

“Now, come on! Sit, have dinner with me. You can do that at the very least, humour this old war-horse for a few minutes!”

Awkwardly, and slowly, Spitfire removed her coat, and boots, and put them neatly aside. She entered the dining room, and sat rigidly across from Lightdash. If the awkwardness of the situation could be quantified, a new number would need to be invented.

“Good, good! Dig in, I grew all this myself you know, I have a ranch near Ponyville. Damn government jackboots don’t even know it exists.”

“Rationing, bah!” he spat.

Spitfire looked down at her serving, and was surprised at how complete it was. Steamed carrots, a few potatoes, corn and a side of sweet cider. All of this was quite out of season, which meant he must be maintaining a small areas weather entirely for himself, or had been. 

“I have a place outside Ponyville for all this. I go there once a week, to keep the weather at bay. It’s gotten harder though, now that you’re all at sea. Soon enough, I’ll be unable to keep it up I reckon.”

“Well, dig in, get some meat on those bones!” he said.

Spitfire reluctantly tried some of the carrots, and found them delightful. Soon enough she gave in, and did indeed dig in. She began to relax in the company of her old master, and eventually worked up the nerve to speak.

“I’m sorry, about what happened fifteen years ago.”

Lightdash was taken by an ill-timed fit of laughter, and spewed potatoes across most of the table.

“No you’re not! And why should you be? You beat me, fair and square. I may have hated you for it then, but I can see it was for the best. You’ve done well in my place, far better than I could have.”

“Thank you,” Spitfire replied simply.

“I find it interesting that the first thing you’ve said to me is a lie, but you must have felt it proper to say it. You need to stop being so… proper.”

“Loosen up a bit!”

They continued to eat, and Spitfire found the cider quite pleasing as well. It was also extremely high-proof, as near as she could tell.

She did start to loosen up, thanks mostly to that.

“Best cider you’ll ever have, I can promise you that. I thought of selling it once, but I don’t think Equestria deserves anything that good.”

Lightdash grinned at Spitfire.

“Just us.”

“Us as in pegasi, or us as in captains?” she asked.

“Pegasi. We’ve defended Equestria since it was founded, and we defend her now. The others may have their place, but ours is special. We take the risks, and we receive the honour.” 

Spitfire squinted at him, looking for signs of how serious he was.

“Don’t tell me you’re a racist, I would rather you tell me you’re a changeling.”

Lightdash was clearly offended, and glared back at Spitfire.

“Don’t you dare. I said we had a special place, not a superior place. The only ponies better than any other are those that unite the three races, and there’s only…”

He paused, and seemed to do a quick calculation in his mind.

“Four, four of them.”

He shook his head, and mumbled something about doubling.

“I’m sorry, things have been tense lately, and I’ve begun to expect the worst from people.” Spitfire said.

“Well, stop.” Lightdash returned.

They finished their meal, and Lightdash collected the dishes. Spitfire hadn’t eaten like that in years, and wondered if her flanks would pay for it. Still, there was nothing quite like a full stomach- a very full stomach- and good company. Lightdash had an odd sort of charm, and it was slowly starting to work through her defences. 

The cider was helping too.

“Got the appetite of an earth-pony you do, I’m amazed you manage to stay in shape.” Lightdash said, and collected up the dishes in his wing.

Spitfire, greatly relieved her crew wasn’t there, belched. Lightdash either pretended to not notice, or was deaf.

She sat back in her seat, and her gaze turned downwards to her mid-riff. She found her stomach protruding a few inches, she almost looked decently pregnant.

Her uniform wasn’t going to fit too well tomorrow, thankfully she wasn’t due back for a few more weeks.

“All it takes is a little work now and then, it doesn’t come easy.”

Spitfire slid out of her chair, and looked out the window while her host cleaned the dishes. The aurora was still quite visible, and now that the sun went down, was even more impressive. 

“I suppose I should take my leave now, I have to find somewhere to stay for the night,” Spitfire said, and quickly darted, or rather awkwardly waddled, into the entrance. She was half-way through putting on her coat when Lightdash called back. 

“Am I such a poor host, that you would rather spend your bits on one of the inns?”

Spitfire sighed, and took it back off.

“I just… don’t want to be a bother.”

Lightdash snorted, and then laughed a deep hearty laugh.

“Too late for that, Captain.”

He left his kitchen, and gestured Spitfire follow him down the hall. He led her to what seemed to be a small guest room, which had not been used in ages unseen. He quickly brushed off a few cobwebs, and fluffed the beds blanket.

“I… rarely get visitors,” he said, and pointedly avoided Spitfires gaze.

Spitfire sat down, and thought she caught something in his voice. 

“Really? I should think such an honoured veteran would be quite welcome around here.”

Lightdash sighed, and sat beside her.

“Welcome? Yes, and no. They love to hear my stories, and they make a big show out of showing me the proper respect, but they see me as more like an artifact than a person. All I am to them is history, not a friend.”

Lightdash looked at Spitfire, and for the first time she saw the sadness in his eyes that he had been concealing so well.

“Don’t make my mistake, Spitfire. There’s more to life than the job. When I lost it, I lost everything. I had no friends, only comrades. I had nobody I could turn to, nobody to support me. They all moved on with the chain of command, and I was left in the dust. I’ve lived here for fifteen years, and not once has anybody come to visit.”

He put a hoof on hers, and clenched it tightly.

“Don’t end up like me.”

With that, he got up, and quickly left.

Spitfire did not sleep well that night, and she kept thinking about what he had said. Was he right? She thought long and hard about it, and realized he was.

She had no friends, only comrades. What would happen to her, when the next person kicked her off the top of the pile? Who would that even be...

"Rainbow Dash..."

If she was removed from duty tomorrow, who would be there for her? Her parents had passed away years ago, naturally and surrounded by loved ones. Who would be there when she did? An honour guard, that saw it as a duty to fulfill, and never even knew her? Members of state only showing up as a token of respect to the institution she had served, and had never even spoken to her?

She was doomed to live outside a tourist town for the rest of her life, with the vain hope that one day somebody would visit her as a friend. That is where her thoughts led.

She would live alone, she would die alone. She would be forgotten, except for historians that only cared about her life for facts, not for who she was. The person, nobody knew the person; nobody cared.

For the first time in her life, she was afraid of her future.

Eventually she did fall asleep, and woke up in the morning to the smell of hot-cocoa. Too used to life on the front line, she quickly shot up out of bed and reflexively looked around for her uniform. She sighed, and remembered the last night. She went to the attached washroom, and made herself proper for the day.

In doing so, she found a slight thickening of her plot. 

“I swear, he did that just for revenge,” Spitfire mumbled, and set to work styling her hair. 

Aerodynamic, stylish, and attractive, the perfect style. When she had finished, she strode out into the hall, and saw Lightdash sitting at the table. Two cups of hot cocoa were there as well, and he was reading todays Equestria Daily.

“They say the Griffons are on the run,” Lightdash said, and folded the paper up. 

“Are they?”

“No.”

Spitfire settled into her seat, and Lightdash pushed the newspaper across at her. She only needed to read the headline before rolling her eyes and pushing it away.

“WINGS REACH BY HEARTHS-WARMING: CRYSTAL EMPIRE JOINS WAR.”

“It’ll take a lot more than the Crystal Empire to get this done. We’re winning, Lightdash, but it’s a slow crawl to the home islands. Current estimates are two years, and a hundred thousand lives,” Spitfire said.

Lightdash whistled.

“Somedays, I’m glad I’m not in charge anymore. This is one of them.”

Spitfire nodded, and Lightdash replied respectfully. She certainly had a lot on her plate. The fact of the matter was, no matter what she did, it wouldn’t be perfect. There would always be “what ifs” and contingencies, missed calls, and mistakes. History would judge her for centuries.

The two drained their liquid-breakfast in silence, and when finished Lightdash pulled Spitfire’s briefcase from under the table, and put it on top.

“The worst part of the job. I only had to do it once, I can’t even imagine what it’s like for you.”

Spitfire wasn’t even mad he looked through it, she could share her pain with him, and that was worth the intrusion.	

“We have a… program, now. This time it’s personal though, and I feel I have to do it myself. I knew him, Lightdash.”

“You loved him, I can see it in your eyes.”

Spitfire felt a tear bead up, and in the company of her former commander she let it fall. 

“I did.”

Lightdash glanced aside out of respect. 

“I loved once too, Spitfire. I made the mistake of thinking the job came first, and now look where I am. I was afraid that if I loved, I wouldn’t be able to do the job.”

He turned back to Spitfire, and slammed a hoof on the table.

“Damn the job! Life, love, that’s what’s important! What point is having the Wonderbolts around to protect us if we don’t enjoy our lives? To hell with all of it! It’s better to die loving, than it is to live life as an uncaring machine! Believe me, I know!”

Lightdash’s chest heaved with intensity as he finished bellowing out his speech, and then he slunk back into his chair.

“I only had to do it once, Spitfire,” He repeated, and pushed the briefcase across. 

Spitfire understood.

"Now, before you go, there's something else," Lightdash said. 

He got up, and disappeared back into the house. A few minutes later he returned, with a large shard of ice in his wing. He gently placed it on the table, and sat back down.

"His 	name is Shard, we've been together for a long time. I think he deserves better than to share a hermits life with me. Take him, and show him the world I never could," Lightdash said.

Spitfire took it, and felt the weight of the shard of ice. It felt cold, and yet it wasn't melting in the heat of the room. It was also much heavier than it should be, but not much larger than her hoof. 

"Are you sure?"

Lightdash nodded.

A few minutes of goodbyes later, Spitfire strode back off into the snowy plateau, briefcase in tow. The morning had brought a cold wind from the north, and grey skies blocked out the sun. It was rather cold outside, and so Spitfire decided to fly the rest of the way to the city. 

Highbreeze, the island of snow. Tall walls surrounded it, a relic of the ancient past from before Equestria. It was one of few cities from that time, back when each city was on its own. Inside the walls modern buildings clashed with ancient stone structures, which was perhaps an image of what was to come about in Canterlot, now that it was laid so low. Spitfire flew high over it, and squinted through the blowing snow towards the streets below. Soarin’s next of kin made their home in an apartment building on Liberty street. 

Spitfire had no idea where that was however, and so flew downwards to find some sort of landmark. Down in the streets the chilly wind became an almost insurmountable hurricane, as the winds funnelled through the narrow roads. Spitfire greatly regretted not bringing a warmer coat, but soon enough found a map, designed for tourists with all the local landmarks highlighted. To her luck, she found that she had happened on Liberty Street already, and Soarin’s building was the one hosting the map. She quickly darted inside the wooden doors, and paused to feel the warm air relieve her frost-bitten skin.

It was a modern building, probably not more than ten years old. All concrete and glass, with thick carpet in the lobby. It was warm too, and that was the most important part. Spitfire stamped the snow off her legs, and looked around to find a mare behind a desk across from her. 

“Excuse me,” Spitfire said, as she approached.

“Yes?” The mare asked, peeking from behind some vanity magazine.

“I’m looking for the home of Wingloft and Fallfeathers.”

The mare paused for a moment, in thought, and then began to reply- slowly.

“I believe… that they are in…. suite two…. sixty.”

She thought it over again, and nodded to herself.

“Yes, suite two-sixty.”

“Thank y-“

The mare suddenly shot up in her chair, as the dim bulb in her head finally came alight.

“Hey wait a second, you’re Captain Spitfire, what brings you all the way…”

A second realization ran through her mind, and she slumped back in her chair.

“Oh no…”

Spitfire was quickly into the stairwell, and left the mare staring ahead into space. Suite two-sixty was apparently on the fourth floor, which gave her a chance to work off a little of that pie. Soon enough she was on the floor, and then in the hallway, and then found herself standing in front of a door.

“260”

Spitfire took a long, deep, breath, and knocked. For a moment, which Spitfire hoped to never end, there was silence.

And then the door opened.

“Howdy.”

Spitfire looked down to see an adorable colt, dressed in a mock-up of a Wonderbolts uniform, staring back her. 

No, why is there a colt here. Why now.

“Hi, are your parents around?”

“Great aunt and uncle are home, I’ll go get them!”

He left the door open, and zipped off down the hall. Spitfire looked in, and noticed the Wonderbolts posters on the wall of the entrance hall. Thin carpet ran to the end, and the blowing snow could be seen out a window. They had a rather nice view of the city.

After a minute of waiting, an older mare appeared around the corner. Her happy demeaned was quickly squashed when she sighed the uniformed Spitfire, briefcase in hoof, standing in the doorway. She stood there, stock still, and seemed to just gaze right through Spitfire. The grey pegasus, with a matching mane, seemed almost like a statue.

“Good morning, my na…”

Spitfire trailed off, and noticed that the mare had begun to tremble, and a great torrent of tears was running down her face. She dropped the briefcase, and darted forward just in time to catch her before she fell. Her name, Spitfire remembered, was Wingloft.

“Wingloft, it’s… going to be okay. Just…”

She had passed out in Spitfire’s arms, and Spitfire looked around for somewhere to set her down. There was nowhere obvious, she gingerly pulled her along, and down around the corner. It led to a sitting room, and Spitfire let her down on one of the three couches. When she got up to collect her case, she found a stallion watching her. His coat was a bright blue, and Spitfire begun to see where Soarin got his light-blue coat from.

“So, it’s true,” he said.

A few minutes later, after some introductions, Spitfire sat across from the pair, briefcase sitting in her lap. Fallfeathers served tea, and softly ran a hoof through his wife’s mane, trying to wake her up.

“When did it happen?” he asked, after some time of silence.

“A few weeks ago, during our first major offensive. Waylay Island.”

“He always wanted to prove himself, Soarin. He passed on his love of the Wonderbolts to his nephew, whom I believe you met. His brother is in the service, with the Legion. No wings on that one, but he does what he can.”

Spitfire nodded, it was an admirable thing to serve, no matter which service.

“I remember the day Celestia declared war. I knew then, that this would happen. I made my peace long ago, but Wingloft… she always assumed he would come home.”

He looked at Spitfire, and for a moment he stared into her eyes, as if searching for something.

“You’re the Captain, aren’t you? Don’t you have people to do this for you? You can’t possibly see everyone in person, there’s too much tragedy for any one Pegasus to handle. Spitfire, right?”

Spitfire nodded, and allowed him some time to go through his thoughts.

“He wrote about you, now and then. I think…”

He took a deep breath, as the conclusion caught up to him.

“He loved you.”

“I loved him,” Spitfire said.

She had never really admitted that, had always hid it behind insinuation and innuendo. He was a “close friend” or a “good soldier," but she had never really admitted that she loved him. She had never said it, either. Not until today.

“Then you know our pain, and are welcome here as family,” Fallfeathers said, and stood up.

“But not today. All I can see in you is… the war. I know it’s not right, but part of me blames you, and it will for a long time. Perhaps, in time, we can learn to embrace you…”

“But not today,” Spitfire said, and rose as well.

Spitfire shook Fallfeathers hoof, and then left back into the hallway. She quietly closed the door behind her, and as soon as she was clear, slunk against the wall.

She cried.

Eventually her tears ceased, and she stood herself up on wobbly legs to begin the return journey. Like most modern apartments, this one had doorways to the outside on every floor. Quite convenient if one had wings.

Spitfire did indeed, and she soared up into the sky back towards the south, where she had parked the Hurricane. With her duty done, all she wanted to do now was get the hell out of Highbreeze.

She found it where she had left it, although it was now covered with snow. She quickly boarded her craft, and just as quickly slammed the cockpit tight. The first thing she did was crank the heat up, she was shivering at the bitter cold. Spitfire took out that ice shard that had been in her coat, and placed it on the dashboard. It glimmered in the light, almost as if it had eyes watching her.

"I suppose you're more used to the cold," Spitfire said, and rubbed herself to warm up.

Once she had warmed up enough to trust her shaky hooves with running the machine, she began to run through the start-up sequence. The dull hum of the engine felt soothing below her, and as soon as it started she was in the air. The Hurricane quickly shed it’s snowy covering, and shot off along the ground towards the south. After only a few minutes flight, it flung over the edge of the plateau, and back towards Equestria proper. Spitfire swung it around towards the west, and set her minds focus on guiding the craft to her next destination: Cloudsdale.
-
Northstar had been rather enjoying herself the last few weeks. She, and a few of the bridge crew, had been exploring the entertainment Cloudsdale had to offer. While the civilians were rationed, there was still a reasonable supply of cider for those in the armed services. 

Tonight they were going to hit the Wilted Wing, and they were going to hit it like it was Waylay. On the way there, however, they found a perplexing figure approach them from the sky. It was following them, at a rather awkward distance. Northstar halted, and looked upwards at their tail.

“Hey, you got something to say!?” She yelled up at it.

The figure, whom Northstar now could see had a bright yellow coat, dropped from the sky before them. Northstar panicked, and hastily saluted.

“Just one thing,” Spitfire said, and unbuttoned her uniform.

Northstar swallowed, and felt a pang of fear shoot up her spine.

“Can I join?” Spitfire asked.

Northstar had no reply, and all she could do was gape her commander. 

There was a glistening, translucent, bird on her shoulder.

	
> Dialogue: So Speaks the Moon
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Minister of State First Class paced in the dimly lit hallway, the sound of torches along the walls the only thing other than her steps in the silence. Queen Luna had called her for a private audience, only hours after First Class had finally finished preparing for her inquest. She had dug deep into the Night Guard, and interviewed a great many involved that night. She knew where the blame truly lie, and tomorrow she would publicly interview some key witnesses, and then give her judgement. It would be a moment for the history books, and her power over those she would pass judgement on was absolute.

Their lives were in her hooves, and so was something far more important. 

The truth. 

First Class was it's curator, and it's caretaker. Only she, as of this moment, knew the real truth behind Mezza Luna's treason. The rest wondered.

"Did Luna push her? Did she act alone? Was she a griffon agent, are there more like her?" 

In all of the questions were half truths, but they were all quite far from the absolute truth. Only a few loose-ends remained, those few that she was unable to interview in private. They all had good reasons, and were in rather lofty offices, but every pony lived under the law.

The door opened behind her, and First Class turned to see Malgavian.

"She will see you now," he said, and left down the hall.

He left the door open, and First Class swallowed her fear before heading inside. 

The room looked eerily similar to the place she had met Princess Luna months ago, before the war was even a whisper, despite the fact that the government had moved into Celestia's School. Princess Luna, sat in the same mahogany chair, staring intently into the same fire. Beside her was a second chair, equal to her own.

The statement was clearer than any word in the pony language. 

"Sit, let us talk," Luna said.

First Class did so, and looked to the Queen from her position. The fire cast it's light on them both, causing Luna's ethereal mane to sparkle almost as if it too, held a certain fire. 

"You have an important day tomorrow. Tell me, what have you found?" Luna asked.

First Class had prepared for this. She would be questioned on all fronts, and was ready for it.

"I have found the truth," she said.

Luna snorted. "Or so you think. Tell me, what is the truth?"

"The truth is everyone is right, and everyone is wrong. There can be only two people to blame, and yet they cannot be blamed. One person could have prevented what had happened, and yet it's impossible to truly blame them for not doing so. In the end, I have decided that they are innocent. The only party guilty of true malcontent, the only person with blood on their hooves, is Mezza Luna."

Luna seemed to roll the words around in her mind for a moment before speaking again.

"And who is this other, is it me?"

"No. You are innocent of any blame for the fact that you only arrived at the end of it all. Events were put into motion years before you returned, and could not have been stopped no matter what your actions could have been. If you had tried to remove her from power, she would have struck earlier. It was inevitable as of twenty years ago that this would happen."

"Twenty years ago. Then this other must be my sister."

"Yes."

Luna was angered by this, but managed to hide it- for the most part. A flash in her eyes was all that First Class saw, and it terrified her.

"You can't find Celestia guilty for what my Night Guard has gone. They are mine, and mine alone, and their treason is on me. I take responsibility, not her."

"I can't allow that."

The anger was more obvious this time, Luna stared daggers at First Class.

"Why?"

"It wouldn't be the truth."

"Explain," Luna demanded.

"As I said, you could not have prevented this even if you had known to, or wanted to. This was all written well before you had any ability to act. I cannot allow you to shoulder the responsibility of this because it would be a lie to say you were. Their treason is their own, not yours, and the fault for allowing them to get to this point lies with Celestia, not you. To allow you to shoulder the blame would be to make this all pointless. The people need you, and they need the truth. If I find you responsible, the people will revolt."

Luna wasn't quite calmed by this, but allowed her to continue.

"However, Celestia not guilty either, per se. She was incapable of imagining that the Night Guard could be so evil because of who she is. It is her core nature to be forgiving to expect the best of people, and to expect the best in the future. This nature is what made Equestria great in the first place, and to expect her to have been able to change it would have changed everything. The very person that made Equestria great to begin with, Celestia, is also the very person that was its ultimate downfall. I cannot find her truly guilty for that reason, because she did not act out of any malice. She acted out of kindness of heart, and that is no crime."

"My sister is not guilty, but she is responsible," Luna said, testing the idea for herself.

"Yes."

"So this is your verdict, that you will deliver tomorrow?"

First Class nodded.

"Yes, there are a few outstanding questions, but I fail to see how the few witnesses left will change anything. The only outstanding question is how Mezza Luna acquired one of Air Martial Spitfire's ships. I will also be calling all four princesses, and Field Martial Armour, to the stand. Your opinions are a matter of public record, and are important for the proceedings."

"All four of us? Indeed, you have quite the line-up tomorrow. I assume the others have been made aware?"

"Yes, and they will be here. I have the authority to subpoena them, but not yourself. I assume you will take the stand?"

Luna nodded. 

"I will, I respect the law, even if I can bend it to my whim. If the people can be served by my testifying, then I shall do so."

"Good, until tomorrow then," First Class said, and slid out of her seat.

She was rather eager to leave, and made it half-way to the door before Luna spoke up.

"Hold on now," Luna said, and First Class turned to face the backside of her chair.

"You have made quite a career for yourself, Minister, and you have served this country well. Perhaps, one day, you may even lead it," Luna said, and levitated the chair in the air so as to face First Class again.

"Today however, is not that day. Nor is tomorrow, nor is next week. I am the sovereign, and you are the minister. Do not forget that, or you will see how quickly I can reverse your incline."

First Class shuddered under the gaze of Luna's glowing eyes.

"I won't," she said.

Luna leaned back, and her eyes ceased to grow. First Class was greatly relieved.

"Good, now go fulfill your duties to the state. By the way, next time you see your husband," Luna grinned widely, and clacked her hooves together.

"Tell him I want to talk."

First Class simply nodded, and darted back out of the door. It shut before her, magically, and she breathed a heavy sigh of relief in the hall.

"Better than expected," she mumbled, and eagerly strode down the hall.
> Intermission: Inquisition
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

First Class, Minister of State, and the most important pony in the country for the next few hours, settled into her seat. She sat behind a great desk, and placed a briefcase beside a gavel on it. Beside her were two other seats, into which her advisors would sit. Her military advisor, Shining Armour, had been in the Crystal Empire during the treason, and never had any real connection to the Night Guard. As such, he was perfect to advise her on judging on the military side of things.

In the other seat would sit Trotsky, by demand of Parliament itself. He had no power, but his voice carried far and wide. 

The room used to be used for dealing out judgement to students acting against the schools policies. A great desk curved around around a lofty seating area, and overlooked an enormous room. Below, across a wide space, a wooden podium stood for the accused. Behind that was a series of benches for an audience. The person taking the stand would be crushed by eyes from all directions.

First Class wore the new dress Rarity had made for her a few weeks ago, and she looked good. Today was a show for the media as much as anything, and she made sure they would see her at her best in all ways. She had a chance her to to discredit Trotsky, and make him look to be an extremist fool, if she played it right.

One of Wildcard's men was going to "accidently" push him into some mud outside as well.

All is fair, in love and war. First Class thought to herself. She smiled, thinking of the vain stallion covered in mud, as she sorted the papers on the desk. For the most part, she was secure in her judgement, and had gotten to the bottom of just how exactly the Night Guard had gotten to this point. Only a few details needed to be clarified, the most important of which was what Spitfire's role had been.

Mezza Luna had somehow acquired a state of the art bomber aircraft, and had used it to massive effect. Ponyville had been damaged severely, and she had been able to use it as a gun to Canterlot's head before it had been shot down. How she got a hold of it was a standing question.

If she stole it, then Spitfire failed to properly secure it.

If she was given it, then Spitfire may well be an accomplice.

Twilight Sparkle's role in the whole thing, and why she hadn't reported sighting the Magnificent during the week it was out in the bay, was another standing question. The obvious answer seemed to that she felt it best left unspoken, in case the Night Guard altered their plans. Even so, why hadn't she contacted Luna directly?

Most of the papers on the desk, which she read over again, were details of what had been found in the Night Guard facilities that 1st airborne had been liberating. They were decades old in some cases, and provided more evidence for the fact that Luna could not possibly have altered what had become inevitable. Twenty years ago is where the line was, beyond that some sort of confrontation was a certainty.

This raised the question as to just what happened twenty years ago, and First Class knew the answer. It was beyond the inquests role to investigate so far back, so she kept it to herself. Celestia's forgiving nature, and the abduction of a single child, had led the Night Guard on a militaristic crusade that only ended with its own destruction.

A butterfly that caused a hurricane. The Night Guard built a great military to crush the Changelings, and then when Celestia denied them that fight they became treasonous on high. They turned their hopes instead to beating Celestia herself with force of arms, and when Luna denied them that as well, they turned against the state itself. This all came to a head two weeks ago, and now she would deal out justice to those responsible.

The door creaked open, and an aide entered the room. She 	quickly darted up the stairs that led to First Class's lofty position overlooking the room, and produced a telegram.

"This came just now, it's a flash from First Airborne."

First Class thanked her, and took the note. She smiled to read it, as it meant the other side of her work was finally done.

F/M REPORTS SUCCESS --- ARCHER CAPTURED --- MEZZA LUNA LOCATION KNOWN --- LOCATION B SECURE ---

The end of it, however, dampened her joy.

--- 50% CASUALTIES ---

It was still a success, even if it came with a price. Location B was the final hold-out, and had taken the better part of last week to find. The most elite unit that 1st Airborne had was sent in after it. Two ponies, the best they had, in the hopes that they could capture Archer before he could once again escape. They had succeeded, and he would soon be brought to Canterlot in chains.

Location B was also, as near as they could tell, a research facility for something only known as the "Mirror Project". First Class was anxious to know what it really was, but other matters took precedence.

Shining Armour arrived some time later, and strode into the room with a great smile on his face.

"Hey kid, you did it! I got the news myself just now, we finally caught that monster."

First Class smiled.

"One out of three, Prince Armour, one out of three."

Shining Armour took his seat, and swung a briefcase of his own on the table.

"Just Shining, unless there's reporters around. Now, what did you need me for today?" He asked, and removed some documents from it.

"I need you to make sure that testimony on military issues is accurate, and truthful. I may know a bit about our armed forces, but I certainly know less than you. If any of my information is inaccurate, tell me."

Shining nodded.

"I'll do what I can."

"Say..." Shining said, and sat back in his chair.

His eyes seemed to undress First Class, as they took her in from the bottom up.

"...That's a good look for you."

First Class laughed, and rolled her eyes.

"Shining, we're both married, you know that."

Shining smiled, "We are, but Cadence and I..."

First Class waved a hoof to cut him off, "If you say "have an open relationship," you're going to have an open relationship with the door."

Shining laughed, deepily and heartily, at the threat.

"How did a mare like you fall in love with a changeling like that? You're one of a kind First Class, one of a kind."

First Class let it pass, and watched as another entered the room. A stallion, with an almost neon-yellow coat, with a brown hat and brown suit. He took a spot in the front row of the audience seats, well behind the witness stand, and looked up to them.

"Mornin'," he said.

"Good morning," First Class replied.

This reporter, Comic Sans, was chosen specifically because his career was at this point in the toilet. This inquest was the perfect opportunity for a reporter with delusions of greatness to create a circus, and try to make a name for themselves. This pony was well beyond trying to that, and could be trusted not to cause a stir. He was the only media representative allowed, the rest of the seats would be occupied by the town mayors, and others in positions of power.

Shining Armour leaning over, "Are you sure about this guy?" he whispered.

"The media has a right to be here, thankfully I can define what media means," First Class whispered back.

For the next half hour the town mayors slowly streamed in, and begun to talk amongst themselves. First Class made herself look busy, flipping through her papers as Shining Armour did the same. 

Eventually, a few minutes before the inquest was scheduled to start in earnest, Trotsky ambled in, looking rather unkempt. His suit, which looked to be rather expensive, was covered in mud.

"What's wrong, Trotsky, get lost?" First Class teased.

Trotsky glared up at her, and took the long way around to his seat.

"Some damn thug attacked me in the street, if I didn't know better I would say he had it out for me."

He slunk into his seat, and First Class stifled her laughter with great effort. 

"The streets aren't safe, Trotsky. All sorts are out there, stirring up trouble. Why, it seems there's a protest every week now."

First Class waved her hooves in the air, and the room seemed to notice their discussion.

"You know all about that though, don't you?"

"The people have a right to gather, and protest, against the foolish actions of our government," Trotsky returned.

"And when shops get burned, Thestrals are found beaten, and ponies find themselves cleaning up your mess?"

Trotsky shrugged.

"The price of progress."

First Class was rather satisfied, and let the matter drop. She took a quick scan over the room, noticed that all that should be there, were.

It was time to begin.

First Class banged her gavel, and the room silenced.

"Order! I call this inquest to order. I will first make a short speech to inform you all of what I have learned, and then I will call the remaining witnesses to the stand."

She paused, and moved a paper to the forefront as the audience gave her their attention.

In that audience all four princesses, Air Martial Spitfire, and every single town mayor looked up at her. 

"I speak before you today, after a terrible tragedy had befallen our nation, to give you the truth. I have spent two weeks investigating the events leading up to that dark day, and the events themselves. I dug deep, I spoke with many, and I will deliver my judgment before you today. First, however, there are a few unanswered questions. Owing to their positions, there are a few of you that I have not been able to speak to yet. I shall call the first of you now," First Class spoke.

"Air Martial Spitfire, please take the stand."

Spitfire made her way out of the audience, and took her place before the podium. She was dressed in her Wonderbolt's uniform, and had all her badges and medals on her chest. She came to attention, and stuck out her chest.

"Air Martial Spitfire, when this war began you were given the bulk of the old Night Guard military hardware. The most grand acquisition was the Magnificent, and it's fleet of ten advanced bomber aircraft. Is that not correct?"

"That is correct."

"Good. Ten advanced bomber aircraft. One was lost at Waylay Island, leaving you with nine. Explain to me, and all of us here, how Mezza Luna managed to get one for herself."

"Mezza Luna threatened to withhold the heat-seeking missiles that the Night Guard had been tasked to create. Her ultimatum, given to me weeks before Waylay was even planned, was that I either give her a Phoenix, or she would delay the shipments. I could not allow that, it would have cost Wonderbolt lives." 

"So, instead you made a decision that cost civilian lives?"

"Damnit, it wasn't like that at all!" Spitfire shouted.

First Class peered down at her, unfazed.

"We were on the same side at the time! I had no idea she was going to use it against civilians, I had thought she had her own plans against the Griffons!"

"A fair enough point, I could not expect you to see the treason that escaped the notice of the rest of us. So, then, the question becomes; why did you not tell Queen Luna, or any others in the chain of command, of this deal?" 

"Mezza Luna was too close to the Queen. She would have had my head if I dared make an issue of it. Tell me, if Queen Luna had been forced to choose between her, and me, which would she choose?"

First Class thought about it for a bit. Spitfire was right, she had been stuck between an orbiting rock, and a traitor.

She turned to Shining Armour, who noticed her and glanced over himself.

"Could the Wonderbolt's not have made the missiles themselves? Why was the Night Guard in charge of all that?" She asked.

"They always had been. Research and development of advanced weaponry, for whatever reason, was in their jurisdiction. Spitfire made the right call, in my opinion. Regardless of the consequences, she did what she had to at the time."

First Class nodded, and turned back to the room as a whole.

"I have heard enough, and I find you innocent of any malice, or responsibility. While I question the wisdom of your actions, they were made in a time of uncertainty, and I cannot find blame for how you acted. You are dismissed."

Spitfire finally released her breath, and strode away from the podium. Apparently done with the whole affair, she left the room itself.

"Don't I get a say?" Trotsky asked.

First Class sighed, and turned to him.

"What would you have said?" she asked.

"I would have pointed out how convenient it was that Spitfire has effectively removed any armed opposition she might ever face, if she decides that she is a better leader than the civilian government. That fleet of hers is quite impressive, you know."

First Class rolled her eyes.

"We're not here to decide who's loyal or not, only who bears responsibility for the tragedy. Mind your place, or you'll lose it."

First Class banged her gavel hard enough to drown out his protest.

"I now call Princess Twilight Sparkle to the stand, please."

Twilight looked to Celestia, whom nodded at her. Then she teleported herself down the stand with a flash, and looked up at First Class.

"Princess Twilight Sparkle, we owe you a debt of gratitude for your work creating the shelters that saved so many on that dark night. Nonetheless, I still have some questions for you. To begin, let us go back nearly a month. You apparently found the Magnificent while working on a prototype for new technlogy along the coast, correct?"

"I did, yes." Twilight replied.

"Why did you not tell Queen Luna? Perhaps, with this knowledge, she could have acted differently. Hiding information from the sovereign is treason, you know."

Twilight shuddered, and First Class felt the icy glare of three other Princesses fall on her. Just part of the job.

"I wasn't asked."

"I don't accept that answer."

"I..."

Twilight took a deep breath.

"I didn't think I could trust her. It looked... at the time... like Nightmare Moon was coming back. I chose to stay with the ship, and continue working on my radar. I stand by that choice."

First Class again turned to Shining Armour.

"If Luna had known, is there any chance the Magnificent could have been used differently? Perhaps, have it moved closer?"

He shook his head, "Mezza Luna would have known. It would have spoiled everything. Frankly, I think Twilight was right to hide it. It all depended on surprise, I was certainly surprised."

First Class turned back to the purple alicorn.

"Very well. Your feelings were shared by a great many in the government, and military. It was, after all, Luna's own Night Guard that laid siege to Canterlot. Nightmare Moon did indeed greet us that night as well. I find you not responsible, and clear you from any charges."

First Class banged her gavel, and a very relieved Twilight Sparkle turned to return to her mentor.

"Hey, hold on a second!" Trotsky yelled, and shot up out of his chair.

"You were on the Magnificent that night, and you have access to almost everything as a Princess. What if you two were working together? You've risen quite high over the last year, perhaps it's not high enough for you!"

Twilight turned back, and angrily scowled up at him.

"Are you accusing me of being behind this?"

"I am, yes. All of you alicorns are never satisfied. I can't really blame you, it's just who you are," he sneered, "Simply can't be trusted with power, that's all."

"Are you accusing me of being behind this?"

"I am, yes. All of you alicorns are never satisfied. I can't really blame you, it's just who you are," he sneered, "Simply can't be trusted with power, that's all."

"Simply ca-"

First Class banged her gavel, and silenced them both. "That's enough of this. We are not here to determine who and who can't be trusted with power. If we were, I doubt you would be happy with the result."

In the audience, the reporter Comic Sans coughed and raised a hoof. "Madame Minister, if I could interject? I understand that there must be some scope of investigation regarding this inquest; however, if Mr. Trotsky has evidence of these accusations, then wouldn't that fall within that realm?"

The mare shot a look at the journalist. "What do you mean?"

"I simply thought you would want to get the evidence supporting those accusations on record with the general public." Comic looked back to Trotsky.

The businessman looked a bit uncomfortable. "Well, you understand, my statement is based more on an understanding of the pony psyche, the desire for the acquisition of power, rather than any specific evidence. But..."

The reporter interrupted. "So then your evidence is of a more philosophical nature? You don't have any tangible evidence to back up your claim?"

Trotsky stared with confusion and shook his head as Comic smiled a bit cheekily at the businessman. "Just to point out, Equestrian legal code - I believe it's section 23, paragraph E of the Equestrian Accords - states that in times of war, accusations of treason against the military or the monarchy, without a minimum body of evidence supporting those accusations is, in fact, a criminal act in itself. I dare say you look like a pot, calling a kettle black; except in this case, the kettle can have you shot. Do you have any comments on that, Mr. Trotsky? Or should I talk to you after this inquiry?"

"What? Criminal? Preposterous! This is exactly the sort of privileged nonsense that..."

First Class again cracked her gavel on the desk. "Quiet! I think your point is made, Mr. Sans. I'm sure that Mr. Trotsky was aware of that law, and didn't intend his theories as actual accusations. Nonetheless, I suggest we keep that in mind as we move on." Both the reporter and Trotsky nodded, the latter looking both indignant and uneasy. "I have one last witness. Princess Celestia, please take the stand."

Celestia strode down, her chin held high, and stood behind the podium.

"Princess Celestia, without you Equestria would not exist, and without you any number of terrible menaces would have destroyed it. You are the greatest leader in our history, and each and every one of us owes you everything we have. Even so, you are not perfect. Under you, the Night Guard grew militaristic, and outgrew their bounds. Under your watch, their leader turned treasonous. You did nothing while they increased their military, and allowed them almost carte blanche in how they operated. Princess Celestia, why did you not act to prevent this?"

Celestia sighed.

"I did not have the heart. I was so used to joy, friendship, and peace; that a heart as cold as Mezza Luna's seemed alien to me. I didn't see it coming because I couldn't even consider this- any of this! This war, this treason, it's as if I have spent the last year locked in a spiral of terror, and no way of stopping it. History has outrun me, and I'm sorry."

First Class, suddenly, felt a deep sadness. She felt for Celestia, the great leader brought so low, and wished she didn't have to do what she did.

"I am sorry too," she said.

"Princess Celestia, I find you personally responsibly for allowing the conditions that led to this tragedy to exist, yet I cannot blame you. It was the very aspects of your character, and your very nature, that allowed it to happen. If you had been able to prevent it, you would not be the same leader that Equestria had loved for a thousand years. The only truly responsible person, I find, for the bloodshed of that night, is Mezza Luna. The blood is on her hands, and no others. The conditions that allowed for her ascension were conditions of peace, friendship, and tranquility. I cannot fault you for creating those conditions, but I can fault her for abusing them to further her own twisted plans. It was her treason, and only hers."	

She paused, to collect her breath, and then continued.

"The truth of the matter is that the Night Guard has planned this for twenty years, and there is nothing anybody could have done to stop it past that point. If Queen Luna had acted, this would have happened earlier. If any others had, they would have simply been crushed," She said, and turned to Shining Armour.

"Field Martial Shining Armour, you have knowledge of the military. Tell me, could the Legion have stood up the Night Guard, conventionally, if it had chosen?" First Class asked.

"Yes, and no. We outnumber and outgun them, but they had key positions. No matter what we did, it was bound to end up being a mess. I stand behind what Queen Luna chose, despite the fact that I myself was used a pawn in it. It was a tragedy, but there was no way around it." Shining Armour replied.

"Then there you have it. The events of two weeks ago were written twenty years ago, and no power in this nation could have stopped them. What happened, has happened, and we can only move on now and learn from it. It is the opinion of this inquisition that the Night Guard be totally stripped of any military authority, it's resources transferred to other agencies, and those that had commanded it, with the exception of Malgavian, are guilty of treason. Only two of them remain outstanding, Archer and Mezza Luna. The rest of the Night Guard I find clear of charges."

First Class banged her gavel, one final time, and slumped back in her seat.

It was done. She had just accused the greatest leader in their history of being responsible for allowing the worst tragedy in their history to happen, entirely because she had created a society of peace and happiness.

And it was true.
	
> Short: Proud Mary
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

The air was thick with fog, an incredibly cold fog that seemed to suck the heat out of everything it touched. This area had once been a swamp, but a freak snowstorm had turned it into a treacherous forest of mud, with deep ponds hiding just under the thin snow that wafted all around. 1st Airborne had tried deploying in force, but had only lost a good deal of war supplies in doing so. They had pulled back, and instead sent two of their best.

The unit they sent, of only two ponies, was their greatest weapon. These two fought together as if they were one, and had been instrumental in securing the remaining Night Guard installations. 

1st Leftenant Flash Sentry, and Sergeant Mary Frosthorn. Decorated with the Medal of Waylay, and first on the list for Celestia’s Medal of Honour. They were on their way now, and were being briefed in an approaching helicopter.

The helicopter, hastily painted with the colours of the Wonderbolts, was one of the first of its kind. Finally, the airborne had a way to get around without relying on the clumsily converted dropships. It was primitive, and rather delicate to fly, but it did its job well. A bubble cockpit sat ahead of a skeleton-tail, and two skis on the bottom supported it on the ground. It was fast, and incredibly manoeuvrable. Southrop-Grumman had outdone themselves, and Spitfire had ordered hundreds of them. Valent Veil, the new owner of Southrop-Grumman industries, stood to make a huge profit.

Flash Sentry and Mary Frosthorn were crammed into the cockpit with the pilot, whom had their briefing for them. He had to shout it over the noise of the turbine. Outside, the ground of dead trees and fog looked almost alien. The sky was grey, the ground was grey, it was all grey.

“Your orders are to head west, and find the supplies left behind by us! Once you’ve done that, contact Doghouse and you will be directed to Location B. You’re going in without any weapons-we didn’t have any room in this damn thing, and it’s too risky to bring another! It’s treacherous footing down there, watch your step or you’ll find yourself six feet under water!”

“How far west?” Flash asked.

“Two miles!”

“Two miles?!” Mary exclaimed, “you couldn’t find a closer landing zone?”

“Lady, we already tried this once! You might as well be asking me to land on the ocean!”

The helicopter continued on it’s way, and the pilot drew back on the stick to slow it down to land. It pitched up, and the power of its rotor pulled back, slowing it enough for him to lower it down. As soon as it hit the ground, Mary and Flash were out. They had done this plenty of times before, and were eager to get started on their last outing.

“Good luck!” the pilot shouted, and spun his helicopter around to leave.

A few moments later he disappeared up into the thick fog, although the noise hung over the two for a few minutes longer.

“Two miles in this? They’ve pulled some shit before, but this is cutting it,” Mary complained.

“Nobody is shooting us Mary, we’ve got that at least,” Flash said, and prodded the moist ground with a booted-hoof.

“Yet, anyway,” Mary returned.

The two started off, and Flash was greatly thankful for the thick coats they had been given. Parkas, donated to the service by one Rarity. Their footing was, as warned, incredibly treacherous. Mary was a unicorn however, and was able to cast a magical light ahead of them that revealed what lay under the snow. Their pace picked up thanks to this, and their journey through the dead-trees of this once-wetland began in earnest. 

“I really wish I had my gun,” Flash complained, as he glanced around for any threat.

“I’ve got mine, it comes built in,” Mary said, and tapped her horn.

“Lucky, mine doesn’t do magic,” Flash smirked back at her.

“You don’t…”

Mary grinned, “Oh. Oh well, I think it has a sort of magic of its own…” she said coyly.

Flash laughed and they continued onwards. They had been together for nearly a month now, and had gone to hell and back together. They had been there when the Airborne went into Location Y, and had been one of the first people to discover how deep their insanity went. They had all sorts of weapons programs, and thinking back on what he had seen, Flash shuddered.

Bioweapons, explosives of mass destruction, magical mind control, nerve-gas, they had even experimented with alicornium. He was thankful they had been foolish enough to strike when they did, had the Night Guard completed any of these weapons, it would have been far worse.

They had also been constructing a sister-ship to the Magnificent. They lacked the resources at present to do it, but the fact they had even considered such a thing was problematic. What if they had planned to destroy the first, using any of their experimental weapons, and replace it with their own?

They would have been unstoppable.

Flash felt something catch on his rear leg, and fell forward on his face into the snow. His wheel had apparently caught in something, again.

“Mary, a little help?” 

Mary looked over, and lifted his prosthetic out of the hole it had caught in with her magic. She also cleaned it off, and levitated Flash back on his hooves.

“Thank you,” Flash said, and started forward again.

Mary nodded, and continued at his side.

Losing his leg had been, oddly, the best thing ever to happen to Flash Sentry. It had made him stronger than he ever had been before, and it made him see that strength. It’s as if all his self-doubt, and his worry, had gone with it.

The prosthetic still sucked however, and he decided to dismount it and continue three-legged. He folded it up and put it in the empty pack that he had been given.

Onward they went, and even the sound of their walking was absorbed by the fog. The silence hung over them, but together they felt no worry. They had taken on griffons together, a little creepy forest wasn’t going to scare them. After an hour or so of walking, they finally came upon a clearing, which looked to be their first waypoint. In the middle was the roof of a landing vessel, sticking up out of a deep swamp. Around it were scattered boxes, weapons, and other equipment. 

“Part one…” Flash mumbled, and looked around for his radio equipment and gun while Mary gathered her own gear.

The group that had come before had apparently been assigned to set up base camp, and had brought all the gear needed for when the others arrived later. They had failed, quite spectacularly, when they realized how precarious the ground was around here. Helicopters had been sent to get them out, and thankfully no lives were lost.

They lost a landing barge, and a pair of light-trucks, however. Rather expensive equipment that now lay under the sludgy-waters of this swamp.

Flash found his equipment, and was relieved to find his rifle and crossbow had made it in intact. Normally he kept this equipment on him at all times, but had been on shore-leave with Mary for the last week. Location B had taken quite a lot of time for the brass to find, almost as if even the Night Guard wanted to forget about it.

Flash slung the rifle, and modified crossbow, over his back where they belonged. A short-range backpack radio, and longer range transmitter, were found nearby as well. He took the first on his back, and inspected the second to find it in surprisingly good condition.Flash set it upright, flicked it on, and then looked around for the generator that the first company had brought.

He found a power cable, and trotted along the ground to where it led.

It led into the water.

“Well, shit,” He mumbled.

He looked around and saw Mary rummaging through a medical box. 

“Hey Mary, can you power a radio with magic?” Flash asked her.

Mary glanced back at him, and her horn pulsated with energy.

“I… guess I could.”

Flash felt her reluctance to be odd, but let it pass.

She finished gathering her supplies, found herself a shotgun, and met Flash at the radio, he explained the situation, to which she simply laughed.

“Well of course our generator is under-water, meaning we can only use the long-range radio once before setting out. Out of contact with headquarters, barely certain of where we’re going, and with limited ammunition.”

“Of course,” she said sardonically.

Flash shook his head, and fiddled with the radio dials as Mary concentrated her energy powering the transmitter. When he hit the correct frequency, he picked up the microphone.

“Doghouse, this is F/M, we have reached the first waypoint. The generator is a bust, and we will be out of communication if we proceed as planned. Request advisement, over.”

Static, and then a barely-audible reply.

“Continue as planned. Location B is a further two miles north of you, you will find entrance to an under-ground bunker near a large metal radio-array. Do not approach the array, or they will know you are coming. Understood?”

Flash sighed, deeply, and then spoke into the microphone.

“We copy that, F/M out.”

Flash tossed the microphone at the radio, and Mary ceased powering it.
“Sounds like Twilight’s radar, I thought the Night Guard had abandoned that idea,” Mary noted.

“We thought a lot of things,” Flash said, and checked the bolt on his gun.

He dropped the short range radio, since apparently it would be useless, and instead stuffed a shotgun into his pack. If he couldn’t bring communications gear, then at the very least he could bring more gun. They took all they could from the weapons and supplies at the base point, and then set off. Finally armed, they went at a much faster pace.

Flash also found a piece of metal he was able to haphazardly attach to his prosthetic. Now it glided on the ground like a ski, and was far easier to handle in this place.

As they went, they both started to hear a strange humming sound. While it creeped them both out to no end, they had gotten used to strange things being found at these Night Guard installations. That something weird was around, was proof-positive they were on the right track.

The egg-heads at home certainly had a lot of interesting prototypes to go through. The Night Guard had been wasting a whole lot of resources on pie in the sky inventions, but here and there was something that had actual use. That helicopter they came in on was based off some of this work, and they would soon be using airplanes on  a wider scale as well. 

If only the Night Guard hadn’t hoarded all this technology to itself, lives could have been saved. If they had conventional airplanes at Waylay, it would have given them a way to contend with the Saddle-Arabians more easily. If they had helicopters, they would have been able to move around far easier. 

Flash Sentry did not like Thestrals at this point in his life.

“Why don’t we just bomb the whole place and see if anyone comes out to breath? We’ve got the place surrounded, I doubt they have enough supplies down there to last long,” Mary said.

“The brass thinks if we drive them to that sort of desperation, they might use some of their prototype weapons against us. We have to surprise and crush them one at a time, or they’ll cause trouble,” Flash replied.

Wisdom that he mostly believed with. As much as it made sense, it was hard to care about that when one was wading through weather as terrible as this, and in order to attack an installation with unknown defences. 

“So why not send hundreds of us in, why just the two of us this time?”

“You saw that landing zone, they just can’t get them in here well enough,” Flash replied.

“So send Pegasi, I don’t get it Flash, this whole thing reeks.”

Flash saw her point. If they knew where Location B was, why not just send a hundred Wonderbolt Pegasi to breach it?

Radar.

“Mary, I think I understand it now. If they think the Night Guard was experimenting with radar here, they would see pegasi coming from miles away. So they have to send in a ground unit, but they can’t send in many. So they sent their best,” Flash explained.

“That’s us, huh? Life was a lot simpler when I was just another medic.”

“Let’s just get through this shit and then enjoy some leave. I know a great spot in the Crystal Empire,” Flash said.

They redoubled their pace, and the humming grew along with them. The fog seemed to clear slightly as well, and in the distance a grey structure slowly became visible, cutting upwards into the sky.

“Well, that must be the radio-array, now where’s the entrance to this thing?” Flash wondered, and paused to better get his bearings.

Then he had an idea.

“Mary, how deep can that spell go?”

“Pretty deep, why?” She asked, and looked at him curiously.

“Go as deep as you can,” Flash said.

Mary grinned at him.

“That’s my line,” she said, and pointed her horn at the ground.

The top of the ground changed, as the bluish blur that marked what was below moved downwards. There was a lot of rock, some more rock, and then… a hallway.

“Bingo.”

Flash and Mary traced the hallway, and followed it in a zig-zag pattern around, careful not to step in anything dangerous. Their work was slow, but eventually they found a staircase that went up a level, and traced that upwards two more times. When they had eventually found the end of the tunnels, they found themselves standing before a large metal door, cut into a rocky outcropping. The door was quite well rusted, and covered with years worth of grit and mud.

It was marked, quite simply: “B”.

“So uh, how do we get in?” Mary asked, and tapped the door gingerly with her hoof.

Flash laughed, and simply gestured at his forehead.

“Right…” Mary said.

Mary waved him away from the door, and stood back herself with her hooves planted firmly in the ground. Her horn pulsated as she charged the energy needed, and then released it all forwards in a blue beam of pure magic power. It splashed onto the doors metal surface, and pushed it inwards while also melting the metal. It only took a few seconds for it to totally give-way, and it collapsed inward while releasing acrid smoke into the air.

“Good work, you’ve outdone yourself!” Flash said, and waved the smoke away with his hoof.

Mary had her eyes closed, and appeared flush. Flash, somewhat worried, came to her side.

“Are you alright?” he asked.

Mary sighed, and shook her head. “Yeah, I just gotta make sure I don’t burn-out. I’ve used this alicornium more than any other pony has. I’m making history here.”

“You’re good to go though, right? I hate to lose you, Mary,” Flash said.

Mary hugged him, which came as somewhat of a surprise and he awkwardly accepted the embrace.

“Not today Flash, not today.”

Flash regained his composure, and looked into the hole Mary had blown into the door. The inside of the facility was incredibly odd looking. Normally they had found concrete bunkers, but this one was all metal. There was no light inside, but a faint humming emanated outwards.

“Fire up that horn Mary, we’re going in,” Flash said, and leapt through the hole.

Mary went in after him, and as a pair they slowly crept down the entrance stairway. It was a strange place, this Location B. Everything was metal, and the stairs were far too narrow for their quadrupedal selves. Neither had ever seen anything like it. Along the roof they could see florescent light tubes, but none were on. There looked to be televisions built into corners, here and there, as well. Not a sound was made by them.

They came to a set of doors at the bottom, but these were simply pressure-doors. Flash slung his rifle around his back, and turned the wheel locking it while Mary watched.

“This place doesn’t feel right Flash, it doesn’t feel…”

“Equestrian?” Flash suggested.

“Exactly! Something about this place, the height of the doors, the spacing of the stairs; this place wasn’t built for ponies.”

Flash swung the door open, and pointed his rifle inside.

“So who was it made for?”

“I don’t know,” Mary said.

They continued on through the porthole, and Flash began to notice what Mary had already. The door was oddly tall for a pony, and oddly narrow. The halls were oddly tall as well, a great deal of space had been wasted digging them this way. Why make the halls of an underground facility any taller than you had to?

After a bit of walking, unsure of where they were going, they came across a bulletin board. Mary studied it while Flash kept watch with his rifle.

“Well, you’ll be glad to know that bring your child to work day is next Tuesday, and that staff are going to be getting a raise for their diligence.” She said.

“That’s nice.”

Mary cleared her throat and continued.

“There’s nothing of any major consequence, but there’s a list of room numbers. The two that seem important are A-1, command and control, A-4, Security and Communications, and C-1.”

She turned to Flash, and adjusted the light the deepen the shadows in her face.

“Project Mirror”

“That’s… ominous. We’ll head to CnC first, maybe get some power on around here.” Flash said, and looked down the hall.

At the end it split, with one side marked A, and the other B.

“That’ll be us,” Flash said, and led Mary down towards the A hall.

When he rounded the corner, he had a thought. They had heard no alarms, despite the fact that the radar topside was being powered. Why would you have a radar watching over your facility if you weren’t even going to care if someone blew up the front door? 

For that matter, where the hell was the staff? They hadn’t expected much, if any, resistance, since most of the Night Guard soldiers were pressed into action at Canterlot, but they had expected somebody. 

“Mary, what was the date on the board back there?”

Mary thought about it for a second, and then her eyes lit with surprised realization.

“984.”

Seventeen years. This place had been abandoned for that entire time. If that was true, there was a chance that even the Night Guard had forgotten it existed. That would certainly explain why it had taken so long to locate.

“Mary, why the hell would the Night Guard have left this place alone for seventeen whole years?”

Mary had no answer, and just shuddered with cold fear.

They continued on through the dark, Flash keeping his rifle pointed forward, and ready for anything. Mary fell behind him, and cast her light forward into the void. They passed quite a few rooms, each with a window to the hallway. When they looked inside, they found each had a matching chair and desk, and nothing else. Their doors had once worn the name of whoever made those offices their own, and they were all scratched out.

Except for one.

Archer.

“Well shit, if he’s connected to this, than we’re in for some fun,” Flash said, and tilted his head to look in through the window.

Then, noticing that there were a few papers on the desk, he smashed it. The sound of the breaking glass was nearly deafening in the total silence, and seemed to echo down the cavernous, dark, hallways for eons. 

Flash picked one up, and read it.





Things may not go well tonight. I fully suspect that Luna is preparing some sort of trap, but I cannot let this opportunity go to waste. I have a chance her to kill Celestia, and take the capital, and murder those filthy changelings, in one fell swoop. My forces are prepared, and will move at nightfall. I have my own tricks, we will see who’s are superior.

Your position however, is not with us. You are to go back to Location B, and prepare Project Mirror. I may need to leave in a hurry. Contact me as soon as it is ready.

The destination is of no concern, just not here.





The only other paper was a bizarre list.



Eleven Six Seven F: Eden: Safe: No Magic
Eight Four Nine B: Arrakis: Critical Danger: No Magic
Seven Five Eight C: Void: Critical Danger: No Magic
Five Eight Five A: Void: Critical Danger: No Magic
Five Two Two A: Molten: Critical Danger: No Magic
Six Two Eight A: Carbonia: Atmospheric Danger: No Magic




“He’s here,” Flash mumbled, and pocketed the papers.

“Who is?” Mary asked, as she stared into the abyssal hallway beside them.

“Archer is. We can finally capture that bastard and stick his head on a pike. He poisoned a princess, you know,”

Mary nodded, she had read the reports as well.

Flash led her down the hallway again, and they soon reached its end. Another door, but this one was already open. An eery blue light, and quiet hum, leaked out from inside.

Flash looked to Mary uncertainly, and then strode in with his rifle ahead of him. He quickly took in the room, and was astonished at what he found.

Dozens and dozens of machines, looking like televisions attached to typewriters, ran along many desks along the outside of the room. In the centre a large metal monolith, silent at the moment, stood. The humming, and blue light, came from one of the machines. Flash approached it uncertainly, and looked at it.

It was a video feed of some room, in the middle of which a bizarre looking contraption, supported by dozens of wires, stood. It looked almost like a gateway, although he had no idea what that entailed.

“I am way too young for this shit,” Flash mumbled, and looked around the room for anything else important. Mary walked in as well, and stared at the central monolith.

“What the hell is that?” she wondered openly.

Flash glanced over at her, and then noticed, thanks to the light of her horn, that the far side of the room was actually a window. He approached it, and found that there was a metal shield just behind some thick glass. There was also a switch, which glowed a faint red.

“Well, in for a bit,” he said to himself, and flicked it.

The room suddenly came alight, and the rest of the machines came on as well. They were both blinded by the sudden light, and deafened by the noise. When Flash could see again, he looked out the window. The steel cover had retracted, and the rooms contents were visible in all their glory.

Another of those portals, far larger than the one on the screen, in a  gigantic concrete room. It was large enough to fit a smaller airship through, and dozens of ponies could march through it side-by-side. 

“But what’s it all for?” Flash wondered, and leaned on the metal overlook to consider.

“Flash…” Mary said behind him. Flash glanced over, and saw her looking at one of the many monitors.

“Flash, we’re not along here. I can see… somebody,” she said fearfully.

Flash darted over, and looked into the screen as well. She was right, the view was of yet another portal room, except in this one a figure was moving around. Dozens of small machines were attached to this portal as well, and the figure was darting between them, occasionally looking back at the portal itself. The figure was clearly a thestral, and they both had a pretty good idea who it was.

It halted at one of the machines, and scratched its head as if confused. Then it looked straight back at the camera, and drew a weapon.

A moment later it destroyed the camera, and the monitor turned to static.

“That’s not good…” Flash said, and glanced out into the hallway.

How far was he from them? He knew this place, they didn’t. That put them at a decided disadvantage.

Then the power went out, and they were bathed in darkness again.

“That’s worse,” Flash said, and pulled Mary behind him as he drew his gun.

“Flash…” Mary said.

Flash grabbed her hoof in his own, and her touch calmed his panic. At least if they went down, they would go down together.

Flash spared a glance back at her, and gave her a weak smile, “We may both be terrified, but we’ve got together. Even in the dark, that counts for something.”

“Not against a thestral, Flash. You can’t… see them in the dark, it’s a sort of magic that only they know. You can’t see them unless they’re wearing armour, or you know they’re already there.”

Flash sighed, just his luck. All the thestrals he had fought thus far had been quite heavily armoured, and fought conventionally. That explained why this hadn’t come up. He knew they fought well in the dark, but hadn’t thought it extended this far.

“You can’t use magic to break this?” 

Mary shook her head, and pulled out her shotgun.

“Alright, buck this. We’re leaving. The place is abandoned, they can send in a battalion of regulars to clear it out.”

No you’re not

The door slammed shut, and Flash gestured around frantically with his gun, with Mary at his back. He cursed that damn monolith in the centre of the room, it blocked their line of sight and created shadows that played with their perception.

Was he even in the room?

Flash glanced at the window, and noticed that the portal down there was still emanating a weak blue light. It was dim, but better than what they had in here.

“Mary, get on my back,” Flash said, and holstered his rifle.

Mary didn’t hesitate, and quietly clambered on Flash’s back. Flash gestured at the window, and she understood his plan.

 You can’t kill what you can’t see, Ponies. I can. 

Flash flapped his wings open, and Mary simultaneously blew out the window with her shotgun. Flash caught the slight glimpse of something out of the corner of his eye, a figure staggering backwards, as he leapt forward and out the window. His flight was precarious, but he managed to hit the ground inside with some semblance of control. Mary quickly dismounted, and Flash drew his rifle again to the sound of glass shattering against the ground. Mary sent up a fireball for good measure, and the control room was taken by a fiery inferno.

“There’s no way we’re that lucky,” Flash said, and backed into the dim blue light created by the portal, with Mary at his side.

“Flash…” Mary said, worry dripping from her voice.

Flash glanced at her, as he kept his rifle pointed towards the burning control room.

“What is it?” 

Mary pointed to her horn, and Flash squinted in the dim light to see what the problem was. It didn’t take long for him to figure it out.

It was black.

“Mary, your horn…”

Mary swallowed fearfully, and nodded.

“I’m at the end here Flash, I can’t do that again,” she said.
Cut off from support, without magic, and hunted by an insane monster. Flash glanced around for some escape, and spotted an open doorway a few dozen yards away.

Do we run, or do we stay here and hope he comes for us? Flash wondered.

Archer knew the facility, and would be able to flank them. They didn’t, and were alone in this giant room. It was better than the last spot, but still untenable.

Flash made his decision.

“Run.”

Mary didn’t waste any time after he had said that, and galloped at the doorway. Flash followed her. They leapt through the doorway, and Flash quickly closed the pressure door from the other side.

Mary pointed her shotgun down the pitch-black hallway. They didn’t even have magic light to guide them anymore, and neither could so much as see their hoof in front of their own face. Flash, however, had a few flares for contacting a landing party. He lit one, and stuck it in a uniform pocket so it would light the way ahead. It took their eyes a few moments to adjust to the red light, and Flash swore he saw someone dart behind a far-corner just then. Perhaps it was just the shadows playing with him… perhaps not.

They were in a long hallway, with the letter C in great yellow font on the side. Two open doors were on either side, and a break further ahead led down two hallways.

“Mary, how come this hasn’t happened before? You’ve used plenty of magic before, more than you have today. Back on Waylay, in Canterlot…”

Mary sighed.

“If we get out of this, I’ll tell you all about it.”

The sound of a door closing put their fur on end, and they silenced themselves. Flash silently gestured at the open doorway on the left, and Mary darted in there with Flash just behind her. Flash extinguished his flare just before entering, and put his back against the wall with his shotgun drawn. Better that, at this range, than his rifle.

Hoofsteps against metal echoed down, slowly growing louder. 

“Ponies, you realize I can see in the dark, right? The dark is mine, and you have come into the lions den. Just give yourselves up, or die tired.”

The hoofsteps continued to grow louder until it sounded like Archer was just down the hallway. He paused there, and spun the magazine of his gun. The clicking noise seemed almost deafening in the silence.

“Oh ponies, you’re all cowards. You come here, to my home, for what? Loyalty to some puppy-eyed demigod? Celestia is a farce, give it up!” 

He continued on his way, and his hoof steps receded into the distance. The sound of another door opening, and then closing, gave way back to silence.

Flash finally exhaled, and slid to the floor on his plot. He lit the flare back up, quite thankful for its red light.

They were apparently standing in a locker room, with a few rows of those in-between low benches. Along the far walls empty racks for weapons lined up, and a sign announced where they were.

C-1B EMBARKATION ROOM STAGING

“Embarkation for what?”

Mary stood up, and turned to Flash.

“Don’t you get it? Project Mirror? I think they were trying to use emulate the magic of the Crystal Mirror somehow, except with technology instead. But why stop, it seems like a fine idea…”

“Perhaps,” Flash started, and used his rifle to help himself up, “they didn’t like what was on the other side.”

That idea did not lighten their moods. After a quick inspection of the lockers- all empty- they quietly crept back outside into the hallway. At the end, they glanced down each way, and wondered which would be wiser.

A or B, both were marked quite clearly. A seemed the obvious the choice, but that seemed to have been the direction Archer had been heading. 

Flash decided to take the long way around, and led them down the B hall. It quickly led them to a series of steps, and then to a door. Flash opened it as quietly as possible, and closed it behind them. 

They were in yet another hallway, and started creeping down it without any pause. To either side were a long series of doors and windows, and they looked inside them as they passed. Long rows of desks were lined up before wide white-boards, it looked like a schoolhouse for the damned. Flash paused before one of the windows, and took a good look at what was on the board.

It was an outline of one of those machines from the control room, broken into parts. Curiously however the typewriter attached to it had buttons far too small for any pony. Not even with a dialing-wand, like on some of the more expensive typewriters, could anyone hope to operate it.

If that room was creepy, the next was terrifying. Along a few dozen metal tables were plastic mock-ups of bodies.

They were not pony bodies.

“Celestia save us all,” Flash mumbled, and forced himself onwards. Mary was glued to his side at this point, and they were both terrified out of their wits.

Then they suddenly became under an auditory assault as an incredibly loud screeching wailed through the hallway. Mary discharged her shotgun by accident, and blew-out the window to the room of horror. Flash could barely see, his vision blurred as his brain wilted under the assault on his senses. 

He thought he saw something move, and shot it.

Then the sound stopped, and when he could see again he saw that he had put a slug into the letter B along the wall. Then a voice came through the same system that had broken into their heads.

“Oh you poor ponies, getting frightened by now I expect? I’m not going to make it easy for you, oh no. Silence is a weapon, and so is noise. I will not let you get too used to either. This facility has been rigged with an active non-lethal disabling field, I just call it a bat screech. I will find you, or I will drive you mad.” 

A click, and then silence.

“I really regret not calling in support now,” Flash said and shook his head clear.

He, reluctantly in the silence, ran the bolt of his rifle to chamber another round. The sound of the shell crashing against the metal floor seemed it could wake the dead.

“Mary, how long until you can use magic again?”

Mary grabbed Flash’s shoulder and spun him around to face her.

“Never, Flash, that’s what I was going to tell you. This alicornium… has had some effect on me. It’s slowly become more, and more, pronounced. If I use magic again, I’m afraid I’ll die.”

Flash shook his head in disbelief, “What? That’s impossible, ponies have used alicornium before, and longer than you have! Can’t you just… get rid of it, if it’s that bad?”

“No unicorn has ever used it like I have, not in our history anyway. It’s… had some sort of conflict with my horn. Look at it Flash, look at it!”

She pulled him close, and forced him to stare at her horn. It was black, and jagged all over. 

“I can’t get rid of it because it’s inside me now! I wanted to tell you, but it’s all top secret. It’s… in my blood now.”

Her eyes were also glowing green.

Flash wondered if he was going to wake up soon.

“Alright, alright! No magic.”

Flash turned away, and looked down the hall. There had to be some way out of this, something that they were missing. This couldn’t possibly be the end for them. It wasn’t… good enough.

As if poetically timed, the flare he had been using for illumination flickered and failed. Flash panicked, and frantically reached into his uniform for another. He sighed with relief when he found a lit the second one, and noted that left him only one more. When he lit it, he found Mary had stepped away a few feet.

“Coming?” 

Mary took a second, and then turned to him. Her eyes were glowing green, enough so that they pushed back the red light of his signal flare.

“Yes, we are.”

Flash squinted at her, and wasn’t sure who was looking back at him.

“We?”

She scowled at him, and gestured forward.

“Lead,” she commanded.

“Mary, are you okay?” Flash asked worriedly.

Mary gripped her head, and grimaced in obvious pain.

“I can handle my own problems! Now lead, or I will!” She yelled.

Flash turned, and marched down the hallway. His mind was screaming at him with terrifying ideas, but he did his best to bury them all. Something was clearly wrong with Mary, but that would to wait until his other impending doom was dealt with. Archer was out there, somewhere in the darkness, and he was hunting for them.

They passed quite a few more of those rooms before arriving at the next hallway-junction. None of them held anything as terrifying as the last. They mostly seemed to have outlines of technology that seemed just beyond Equestria’s reach. A plane, shaped quite similarly to the Phoenix craft, was on one. Another had details of an impressive looking tank, and another showcased an automatic rifle similar to the ones being built in Southrop-Grumman. The only difference was there didn’t seem to be any way to fire it, unless the tiny switch behind the magazine was that.

Flash shook his head, trying to clear all the buzzing inside of assorted fears. He looked down each side. Both sides were marked C, and he turned back to Mary for advice.

She was clutching her head in pain, and Flash looked on with concern.

“Are you okay?” Flash asked again.

Mary looked at him, squinting through the pain, and he noticed her eyes were no longer glowing.

“It’s the… alicornium… Flash, I think it’s alive!”

Flash darted over and caught her as she began to fall. She was shaking quite severely, and covered in a cold sweat. Her coat was quite damp with perspiration.

“You… what?!” Flash exclaimed, and she then forcibly pushed him back.

“Oh it is, and it likes what it has found. We have a great future together, her and we. Together we will rule this world,” Mary said, and then stared daggers at him with her eyes once more glowing green.

“Lead us out of here, pawn.”

Flash stared back at her, and raised his shotgun at her.

“No. Let her go, and then we can talk.”

Mary laughed at him, “you wouldn’t kill the one you love most, now while we are inside her. The only reason you are still alive, is that we have decided to use you as a hostage. If she fights us, we hurt you!”

To prove the point, Mary’s horn flashed green, and shot a bolt of electricity into Flash. It stung every nerve in his body, and for a moment all he could do was seize in the hallway.  When the pain stopped, Mary smiled.

“So lead us, fine soldier. We will protect you from our common enemy, and perhaps when we are out of here, you can be allowed to live as a servant.”

Flash reluctantly lowered his rifle.

“Well, I don’t suppose you can just teleport us out?”

Mary, or whoever it was he was looking at, frowned.

“No, this facility has been magically sealed. Fear not however, for this Archer will soon know our full power,”

It gestured forward, and Flash turned to continue leading down the hallway. He kept his rifle close, despite the promise of protection, just the same. Mary seemed to be… unsure, as she walked behind him. Her head kept shuddering, and now and then she would rapidly blink her eyes. Mary was fighting in there, although Flash had no idea if she would ultimately prevail.

At the end of their current hallway, and down a staircase they found another door. Flash quietly opened it, and they entered the C section again. They appeared to be in a different segment of it however, and there was a decided widening of the hallway. Two tracks were imprinted into the floor was well, and led off into the distance.

“This isn’t getting us any cl-“

Flash became assaulted by that noise again, and was forced to drop his gun and cover his ears, so powerful it was. It was a terrible pain, biting into his mind regardless how hard he tried to shut it out. Despite all his strength, he couldn’t help but crawl into a fetal position.

After a seeming eternity, it silenced. Flash hadn’t realized as such until a voice crackled through the air once again.

“Getting tired yet? You could just surrender, and save yourselves the pain. By the way, that last door was alarmed, I know where you are now…”

Archer dropped the microphone, and Flash grimaced at another sharp wail as it hit the floor. Then, silence.

“Good, let him come to us. We should find a defendable position, and fight him directly.” Mary commanded, and strode forward down the hall.

“Where? What possible defendable pos…” 

Mary opened a door, and gestured inside.

“Very well then,” Flash said, and followed her into the room. He closed the door behind him, and took a look around. 

The rail on the floor led to another one of those portals, although much smaller than the primary one. On the far side of the room a glass window looked over it, beside which a pressure-door stood.

“That must be the control room. I wonder how many of these they have…” Flash wondered, and found his eyes transfixed on the portal. An odd looking mesh of wires, curling around and encircling a central steel circle. 

Mary had already gone to the other side of the room, and opened the pressure door. She was half-way through when Flash noticed her.

“Mary, what ar-“

She closed it.

“I’m saving us both, you fool. Get against the wall,” Mary ordered through a radio inside.

Flash did as asked, reluctantly.

“Now kill your flare.”

He did that too, and then total-darkness took over the room. He waited, since that was basically his only option at this point, and listened. A faint tapping slowly began to grow louder in the distance, and now and then a creaking could be heard from outside.

Archer was coming.

Flash held his gun tight, and closed his eyes. Better to have them closed, than to allow the dark to play tricks on them. He felt a light, and opened his eyes to see Mary illuminating herself in the control room with her horn. A pale green light, and she seemed monstrous as she stood there bathed in it.

Outside the hoof steps grew into a cacophony relative to the silence, and then halted outside.

“It’s no use hiding, ponies!” I’ll check every room one by one!”

The door creaked, and then slammed open. It just missed Flash as it flung against the wall, and then a shadow flew into the room.

“Oh sweet foolish pony, you think that glass will stop me? Come out here, or I’ll come in there!” Archer threatened.

Flash tried to spot the source of the speech, but all he could see was darkness. 

“No, I don’t. That’s not what I’m worried about though. What is this place, if I may ask?” Mary said.

Archer laughed. He was so close Flash could feel his wings agains the air, but even still could not see him.

“This place? This place is my greatest achievement. There are worlds beyond ours, little pony, and thirty years ago I was sent through a portal to one. What I found astonished me, and inspired me. They have such technology… such  weaponry . Their hearts as cold as the blackest night, and those on the other side war without end. It was… Beautiful.”

Flash thought he could make out the source, and slowly raised his rifle at it. He was just in time for Archer to fly to the other side of the room.

“I took what I could in my mind, but there’s so much more! If we could just return there again! Imagine what we could achieve, but that is quite beyond your naive little pony mind, isn’t it?”

“You’re talking about the crystal mirror, aren’t you? I did not know there had been parties sent through it.” Mary said.

Archer laughed again.

If Flash hadn’t thought so already, he would by now think Archer was quite insane. 

Mary looked to Flash through the glass.

“He felt a tearing at his mind, and forced to the floor as he felt his mind ripping out of his body. Quickly, a single thought filled it to the point where he couldn’t breathe.

“Eight Four Nine B, What does that mean to you?” Mary asked Archer.

“The creatures there… were not friendly. Wait, hold on, what are you talking about?! Archer yelled.

He fired his gun at the window, and the flash illuminated his shadowy form with it’s report. Flash fired up at him, but only managed to hit his wing. Archer cried in pain and fell from the air, just as the portal lit up with an odd blue light.

An explosion of energy shot out of it, and then an almost liquid-looking blue shape formed in the centre. It seemed to slowly be shifting to form an image.

“Clever pony, using my own weapon against me! I know what’s on that world however, and you do not!” Archer shouted.

Flash saw him them, standing a few feet away, bathed in the eery blue light created by the portal. He raised his gun, and ran racked the slide.

Archer fired first, and hit him dead in the chest.

“Should have brought an automatic!” Archer yelled, and swooped over. He kicked Flash’s shotgun away, and tossed him against the wall.

Flash’s vision was fading, but he was able to see the room through blurry eyes. The portal had completed forming, and through it he could see a landscape of sand. Something was running at it as well, something black and jagged.

“Shut it down, shut it down or we’ll both die!” Archer shouted, and flew up into the air.

“Oh no, only one of us is going to die here!” Mary shouted after him.

Archer fired towards the control room, but his shot was deflected by a magical shield. He then looked back towards the portal, and fired the rest of his magazine into it.

It was not enough, and whatever was coming was only angered. A high-pitched screech came through, and then a winged creature, almost like a bat were it not for its dozen limbs, came flying through the breach. It flew straight at Archer, and slammed him into the roof. 

Mary watched, grinning, as they fought. Archer struggled in the grip of the thing, and managed to get himself free. The creature chased him, and he fired back with a fresh magazine. 

With his remaining energy, Flash picked up his rifle, followed their path carefully, and fired. 

The creature fell from the air as it’s life instantly left through a large hole in its head. Archer, his arm stick in one of it’s many claws, went down with it.

Then the portal shut off, and Flash’s eyes were stung by the white-light that suddenly bathed the room. He coughed up some blood, and tried to stand.

He didn’t have the strength, and fell back into a pool of his own blood.

“Flash!” Mary shouted, and leapt through the control-room window. Flash rolled over to see her running towards him, without the green in her eyes.

“Flash, Flash stay with me!” Mary yelled, and slid to his side. She cradled her head in her hooves, and looked to his injury.

There was a hole in his chest, and Flash only had minutes to live.

“No, no! I won’t let this happen!” Mary yelled, and her horn sparked with energy. She pointed it at Flash, and his wound began to close.

“Mary… you can’t… the alicornium…”

Mary frowned with effort as she focused on healing her love.

“I have it at bay… for now. I’m going to pass out soon, and I don’t think I’m going to be myself when I wake up. Flash…”

Mary paused, and Flash felt a stream of tears flooding from her face and onto him. 

“Flash… you can’t let that happen. Don’t… don’t let me wake up!” 

Flash groaned as he tried to protest, but found only pain when he tried to speak. The pain was receding though, and he could feel his strength returning. His whole body was awash with magic, and it felt like he was being reborn.

His prosthetic popped off, and he rolled his head to look down there.

He had a new leg.

As soon as he noticed that, Mary yelped, and flopped to the floor beside him. Flash quickly stood up, and looked to where Archer had fallen.

He was not in good shape, and was no threat to them. Most of his arm had been torn off, but he would live if taken to a medic, quickly.

Then he turned to Mary.

Her horn was entirely black now, and the base of it was glowing red. Her eyes glowed green, even as they were shut, and sparks of magic flew over her fur. 

Flash cried out in pain and anger, and threw aside his rifle.

“I won’t do it, and you can’t make me!” He shouted up, as in protest to the unjust god that had put him into this position.

Then he looked at the portal, and something in his mind clicked.

The alicornium appeared to be controlling her through magic, using her horn as a gateway. This explained why the other races had never experienced this- no horns. They could control the alicornium, but it couldn’t control them. 

The world beyond the mirror had no magic though…

Flash raced past her, past the monster, and past Archer. He leapt through the window into the control room, and frantically looked over the controls.

“Eleven Six Seven F, Eleven Six Seven F, Eleven Six Seven F…”

He found a set of dials, which turned to a series of three numbers and one letter. He quickly turned it to that code, and flicked a red switch beside it.

The portal exploded with another burst of energy, and Flash jumped outside to grab his rifle. He pointed it towards the swirling blue vortex, ready for anything as it began to take form.

When it did, he lowered it, and beheld perhaps the purest form of beauty he had ever seen. A meadow of flowers lay on the other side, and just beyond was an enormous canyon. It seemed to go for miles, and at the other end a rock at least twice as high as the canyon was wide, stood up. It was all bathed in an orange evening sun, and fluffy clouds moved along the sky.

He dropped his rifle, and went to Mary. He picked her up and, bipedal, approached the portal. He looked at her, at her sweet face. The light from the other side lit it, highlighting every fine detail.

She woke, and looked at him with half lidded eyes.

“Flash… I can’t… hold it off for much longer… You have to end it.”

Flash gently turned her head towards the portal.

“I’m going to, but not for you. They say that ours is the only world of magic. I choose to let you live. Mary, I love you. I could never hurt you, so instead I give you paradise.”

Mary looked at it, and then weakly put a hoof to Flash’s face. She understood, and looked into his eyes as tears streamed down both their faces.

“I love you, Flash.”

Her eyes flashed green for a moment, and then she grimaced with effort to suppress it. No more words needed to be said, and they shared one final kiss. Flash leaned down, and stuck his his hooves through the portal, cradling her in them gently. It felt strange, as if they were miles away.

He laid her down on the soft grass, and then backed away. She smiled at him, one final time, before the portal dissolved back to blue.

Flash plonked himself on the metal floor, and for a few moments did nothing but stare into that swirling vortex. Whole other worlds, perhaps with other people in them. Even Mezza Luna had turned away from this project though, despite such enormous promise. 

Perhaps that world was the only good one they ever found. 

Flash got up, and stumbled a bit on his legs. Having a fourth again was quite strange. It was the truest gift of love any pony had ever received. Mary had saved him, and indeed made him stronger.

“Well, time to finish this shit,” Flash said to himself, and strode over to Mary’s medic bag. He dragged it over to Archer, and reluctantly dressed his wounded arm. He was in living condition, and a good dose of horse tranquilizer made sure he wouldn’t cause any trouble anytime soon. Flash grabbed his rifle from the ground, holstered it, and then slung Archer over his back.

He was heavier then he looked, but not too bad. Flash lit his last flare, and walked out of the room. The darkness of the hallways no longer scared him, and he quickly was able to backtrack Archers route to level A. When Flash opened the door to there, he found a faint blue light leaking from a nearby doorway. Curious, Flash approached, and found the place announced on the all outside.

“SEC-COM”

Flash laid Archer against the wall, and walked inside. 

Dozens more of the monitors from the control room were at the far end, all of which were on and displayed images of the hallways. An empty gun-rack ran alongside one wall, and on the other a silent machine stood waiting. Flash approached it, and took a closer look.

There was a switch beside the standard binary keyboard, which he flipped on. The screen flickered to life, and a dull green text greeted him from behind a very dusty plate of glass.

PROJECT MIRROR RADIO-RELAY. TYPE FREQUENCY AND ENGAGE MICROPHONE, OR INSERT COMMAND DISK.

Flash cocked his head at it, and then put his hooves on the keyboard. He tried the standard Wonderbolt emergency frequency, and then heard a whining screech as some ancient machinery began to move elsewhere.

FREQUENCY LOCKED. NO DATA-RELAY DETECTED. USE MICROPHONE FOR VOICE COMMUNICATION OR RESET SYSTEM.

Flash looked around, and found a microphone sticking out of the side of the machine. He picked it up, and engaged it.

“Doghouse, doghouse, this is…”

Flash paused, and swallowed back his sorrow.

“… F. Mission accomplished, the town fletcher is secure. Do you copy?”

Some static, and then to his great relief a voice came through. Somewhat garbled, but audible.

“F/M this is over-watch, I assume you’re using the emergency channel due to loss of standard contact equipment. How are you contacting us? That signal is extremely powerful.”

“Over-watch, Location B is operational, but a little rusted. Fletcher was using it for… something. Request immediate extraction and debrief.”

Somewhere out there was a very quick conversation, and then Flash got his reply.

“F/M, did you say Location B is operational?”

“Yes.”

“F/M, you are to proceed immediately outside. Everything you saw, heard, or did today is classified at the highest level. You will be taken to a deep-cover facility for debrief, and all leave is hereby suspended. As of this moment, you are no longer in the airborne, is that understood?”

Flash was about to reply when there was a crash on the other end, and another voice came through.

“Flash, Flash this is Echo! Don’t let them get their hooves on that facility, you have to destroy it! Don’t let Archer’s hubris…”

Static.

Flash slammed the microphone back into the machine, and cursed. The damn Night Guard wanted their toys back, and he would be damned if they would get them. 

How the hell was he going to keep it from them? It wasn’t like he brought any high-explosives. He took a look around the room for anything that might be of use, and found the station Archer had been using to watch them. He had a seat with a good view of all the cameras, on a rather nice rolling chair, and nearby on the counter was a switch marked “Active Protection.” Nearby was another.

“Lights.”

Flash grumbled, and flicked it on. If only they had found this room to begin with.

Of course, by this time his eyes had gotten used to the dark, so when the lights did came on they stunned and stung him. He grimaced and covered his face, and when he was eventually able to force his eyes open again, got a much better look around.

On the counter was a circular object, almost as thin as paper. He glanced at the radio-relay, and back to it.

There was a thin slot in the front of the radio-relay, so Flash picked the thing up and slid it in there.

FREQUENCY LOCKED. NO DATA-RELAY DETECTED. USE MICROPHONE FOR VOICE COMMUNICATION OR RESET SYSTEM.

Flash flicked the power switch on and off, and then it started up again.

PROJECT MIRROR RADIO-RELAY. DISK DETECTED. POSSIBLE COMMANDS: ARCHIVE, SECURITY, OPERATIONS, COMMUNICATIONS.

Flash, being a curious pony, clacked through the motions of typing in ARCHIVES.

ERROR: CORRUPT ARCHIVES. 3 ENTRIES AVAILABLE, 341245 CORRUPT

The first one came upon the screen, and he digested the information greedily.





April 17th, 982.

Cadet Echo

Once again, no success. There are 259974 potential waypoints for us to find, and each one has a great probability of bringing forth some horrible doom. We’re losing lives down here, but still Archer tells us to press on. The technology he was able to bring back was impressive, but can any technology really be worth this level of risk? Why is this not enough, why do we need even more?

LEFT EXIT, RIGHT ENTRY 2





Cadet Echo? Echo was a member of the Night Guard, but for her to have been around during this meant she would have to be 35 years old by now. She certainly didn’t look it.

Flash clicked on the right pedal.





November 16th, 983.

Research Director Archer

Mezza Luna demands that I stop “playing god," she thinks that this place is a threat to national security! What absolute folly, is she of such a small mind that she can’t see beyond a few worthless lives? Nothing is too much to sacrifice for my goals here, nothing!

I will find this world, and I will learn their secrets. They have lived in a world of war for a thousand years without end, and it has made them strong. They have technology the likes of which we can only imagine, and weapons that could destroy our entire worlds military in a heartbeat. I will bring us to this future, whether we like it or not.





He really was insane. 

Flash clicked again, for the final message.





September 18th 984

Command Message to all staff.

Location B, and the Mirror Project, are hereby shut down by order of Mezza Luna for reasons of national security. All material relating to Project Mirror will be destroyed, and all staff will be re-allocated to Project Magnificent. The base itself will be mothballed, pending formal destruction. 

Any foreign material is to be destroyed immediately, and any coordinates collected must be burned. Any deviation from this order will be met with execution.





So that was it. This place was too much even for Mezza Luna to handle, and she had it shut down. She must be incredibly desperate now to have ordered Archer to start it up again.

A truer sign of their victory against her they couldn’t ask for.

Flash hit the left pedal, and then thought on his next move. He typed SECURITY in.

SECURITY OPTIONS: ACTIVE DEFENSE, PASSIVE DEFENSE, LIGHTING, DOOR ALARMS

WARNING: ONE ALARM ACTIVE- C17
WARNING: FRONT DOOR BREACH
WARNING: INCOMING AIRCRAFT

Flash swallowed, and went back again. This time he typed in OPERATIONS

OPERATIONS: SELF-DESTRUCT, PORTAL CONTROL, RADIO TELEMETRY, STAFF LIST

WARNING: OPERATIONS TERMINAL NOT RESPONDING. PORTAL CONTROL INACTIVE.

Finally, Flash had found something simple. He typed in SELF-DESTRUCT.

CONFIRM DESTRUCT, HOOF-SCAN REQUIRED.

Flash sighed, and felt his hooves warm on the keyboard.

NON-AUTHORIZED

Flash rolled his eyes, and quickly darted out of the room. He dragged Archer in by his teeth, and awkwardly picked him up. Then he looked at the screen, and realized what he was doing.

He would never be able to see Mary again. This place was his only gateway to her. 

Maybe the Night Guard could be trusted with this place, now that it was under new leadership?

Flash sighed.

“Nope.”

Archers hooves flopped onto the keyboard, and an alarm klaxon began sounding throughout the facility.

AUTHORIZED. SELF DESTRUCT INITIATED. TWENTY MINUTES TO SELF DESTRUCT, OR CANCEL WITH OPERATIONS TERMINAL.
WARNING: OPERATIONS TERMINAL NOT RESPONDING. 
PLEASE CONTACT TECH SUPPORT FOR HELP 

Flash took Archer back on his back, and ran out. With the lights on, he was much more able to navigate, and soon slid around a familiar corner. He ran past the control centre, still on fire, and back through the way he and Mary had come early. Not wanting to stay any longer than required, he flew up and out of the entrance. He kept on flying, and headed for the waypoint he had started from. After what he imagined was nearly twenty minutes later, he dove to the ground and buried his head in the snow.

A deep rumbling in the ground heralded an enormously loud roar, which brought with it a powerful shockwave that pushed Flash along the ground. The breath was sucked out of him, and for a few moments he felt like the heat at his back might light him on fire.

Soon enough though, it all stopped. His ears were still ringing, but he was alive. So was Archer, who groaned in his drug-addled sleep. Flash picked him up, and then heard a buzzing coming from the air. Thinking it just to be an after-effect of the explosion, he flapped his wings back up into the sky.

There was a trio of helicopters waiting for him, each of which had a thestral manning a machine-gun sticking outside the side of the cockpit. Two turned their guns towards him, while the third stared right at him. A bull-horn attached to it blared to life and yelled at him.

“FLASH SENTRY, LAND IMMEDIATELY AND RELEASE YOUR PRISONER.”

Something was obviously fishy about these thestrals, so Flash simply hovered in the air. They couldn’t fire on him- not if they wanted Archer alive.

“FLASH SENTRY, WE WILL NOT ASK AGAIN.”

“Go to hell!” Flash shouted back.

The two gunners looked to their pilots, and had a quick conversation. The one on his left grinned, and squeezed his trigger. The gun exploded to life, and sent a dozen or so rounds over Flash’s head.

“RELEASE YOUR PRISONER.”

Knowing how twisted the thestral’s mind was, Flash would rather die than let the corrupted elements of the Night Guard get him back. 

“I will release my prisoner to the proper legal authorities, and that sure as hell isn’t you!”

The helicopters turned, and flew away. Flash felt rather proud of himself, until he saw an airship-frigate break through the fog and stop a few hundred meters ahead of him.

“What is with today?!” Flash complained, and looked up at the bulwark. 

Something flew down from it, and came towards him. Flash tried to think of some escape, but there was nothing.

“Flash!”

Flash knew that voice… it was Echo.

“Flash, I knew you would do the right thing! Follow me!” Echo said, and flew a circle around him. 

Flash did as asked, and quickly flew up on the deck of the ship. He flopped there, despite himself, and rolled Archer off his aching body.

“Been a long day?” Echo asked, and bent down to check Archers pulse.

“You could… say that.” Flash replied.

“Well, it’s over now. You did good out there, and managed to hold of Mezza Luna’s people long enough for us to get here. This was a rigged game from the start, Flash.” Echo said, and helped him up.

“She wanted you to find this place, and capture Archer. There was a plan in place to extract him, kill you, and then return in force to this facility. They were going to take their last stand here, but needed to be sure it was safe. If they had sent their own people to investigate, we would have followed them. I’ve been in deep-cover with them for a while now, good thing you called when you did.”

“Why?” Flash asked.

Echo shrugged, “because she wants power, I guess.”

“No,” Flash said, and forced her away, “why us, why Mary and I?”

Echo shrugged again, “because you're the best, and killing you would have been a nice bonus?”

Flash, for the first time in seemingly forever, laughed.

“By the way, where’s Mary?” Echo asked.

The humour was immediately sucked out of Flash, and he looked at Echo sullenly.

“Gone.”

—

When Mary awoke, she opened her eyes, and found herself laying in a field of flowers. The events of last few hours were hazy, all she could really remember was darkness. She came to on her wobbly hooves, and took a quick look around. Her heart skipped a beat as she did so, for she found she was being watched.

Three silver alicorns, as tall as Celestia, stood only a few feet in front of her. The view behind them was almost as stunning as they were, but her eyes couldn’t stop staring. Their eyes were great black beads without irises, and seemed to eerily see through her. Their manes seemed to be made of light itself, and streamed off them into the air.

They smiled.

> Intermission: Waning Moon
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Wildcard stood on the precipice. There were two paths from here. Total defeat, or total victory. Either he would bring down Chrysalis, or she would bring him down. There was no middle ground, no room for compromise, and no surrender. First Class faced a similar challenge, and her campaign against Trotsky had reached a fever pitch. She was leading in general, but a few places were die-hard loyal to the rising power of Trotsky. If an election was held, she would surely win, but those that followed him would definitely pick a fight over it.

Wildcard knew that he couldn’t be allowed to play the game any more. He had rigged the game; even if he lost, he still won. Equestria would be his, either at the ballot box, or at the end of a gun barrel. He didn't seem to care which, and was prepared for either.

Before he solved this problem though, there was another matter that needed his attention. Wildcard found himself in a tent, within a vast military camp set up in a clearing a few miles from the Hollow Shades. The Home Guard and Wonderbolts had been staging their "clean up" from here, and for weeks had been sending out assault teams. Today they finally knew where the queen bee herself was, and were prepared to throw everything they had at her.

They knew where Mezza Luna was, and they would not allow her to escape this time.

Queen Luna herself was briefing him, in her own command tent away from the others. Malgavian stood to the side, watching. Luna was clothed in her armour, and had an archaic- but quite deadly- sword at her side. Her mane sparkled as always, but seemed to have a certain fire to it today.

She had been briefing him for around an hour now on the specifics of what led up to this day. The Legion and Wonderbolts raiding the Night Guard installations, finally capturing Archer himself, and then managing to figure out Mezza Luna's location based on the few hints he gave combined with some new technology. The stories of what they had found quite disturbed him, such weaponry had never been devised before; explosives designed to penetrate bunkers, nerve agents that could kill millions over wide areas, alicornium based magic enhancement, they had even experimented with viral weaponry. Nothing was off the table for them, and if they had been allowed to complete these projects, the death-toll would have been catastrophic.

“You, as the only changeling I trust, are going to be rather important in all this. We have studied your methods, and created our own form of those “dossiers” that you use for intelligence operations. Your objectives are simple to explain, but difficult to carry out,” Luna said, and produced said dossier from under her armour.

“Infiltrate Mezza Luna’s command frigate as Archer, we have already created a cover-story involving his escape from the Canterlot dungeons. Find out if she has forces elsewhere, or if this is truly all she has remaining.”

She handed it to Wildcard, and stared him in the eye.

“Kill her. Kill anyone that gets in your way. They're all traitors, and you shall be their executioner.”

She then turned away, and looked out the tent opening at the scene outside.

“If you fail, we will simply engage and destroy them conventionally. I would prefer not to risk losing lives, but if that’s how it must be, than so be it.”

Wildcard stuck the dossier in his coat, he would get to it in time.

“What if I need support?”

Luna glanced back at him.

“Simply escape, and signal us somehow. A flare, an explosion, radio; whatever is available. If there’s any sign that the enemy fleet is leaving, alerted, or preparing to engage- we will engage them.”

Wildcard nodded to himself. “Good enough. I’ll get it done.”

He left the tent, and felt Luna’s eyes on him for a bit as he left down the rows of other tents. She was certainly prepared, the entire Home Guard militia was standing by, along with elite elements of the Wonderbolts and Legion.

Tomorrow, it would be his Home Guard. Luna was going to put him in command of the entire thing. She certainly did reward those that served her well.

Wildcard grinned, and his chin edged towards the sky. It was a grey sky, and brought with it the cold of October. 

His Home Guard. He had found love in Equestria, and friendship. Now he would be tasked with helping defend it, and it brought him great joy; both for his ego, and for his soul. 

Granted, the Home Guard was just a thousand reservists, spread throughout several of the cities. Their only actual role was to support the police when they discovered threats concerning national security, and to remain vigilant incase the enemy breached the borders. They were the runt of the military litter, but still had some responsibility just the same.

It was a decided step up the ladder from “Weird ambassador that has some unofficial pull within the government, has resigned his official position, and doesn’t actually have any official role in anything.” Honestly, he felt more like a mercenary these days than anything.

Life was weird.

Wildcard continued down along the tents, having to dodge a few squads of soldiers going to wherever they were. He stopped before one of the tents, seeing a wide array of weapons inside, and decided to peruse the inventory.

Inside he found a few dozen of the regular rifles, a handful of automatic rifles, and a few suppression machine-guns. As much as he would have loved to sling one around his back and lit up his enemies, it would be rather difficult to hide in his coat. He would be shapeshifting into Archers form, and wore a thin coat over himself. It would take some doing, but he could use his shape-shifting magic to ensure the coat was unseen. 

As such, he selected for himself a simple side-arm, and tied the holster around his leg. 

He also put a grenade in his pocket, and then strode back outside. Towards the edge of the camp he went, unnoticed during all the commotion. The ground was muddy and damp from the many rains that had come through here, and by the time he left the camp his legs were covered with it.

In the sky the airships formed up, and Wildcard saw an odd looking one at their head. It had what looked like a large plate sticking out over it, and it was slowly spinning around. Twilight Sparkle had built that thing, and it had apparently been able to track down Mezza Luna’s exact location from the few hints Archer had leaked out. It was a brilliant device, and a potent weapon.

If you know where your enemy is, and they don’t know where you are, then they fight on your terms. Luna knew this, and made sure she had won the battle before it even started. The force amassed her could crush anything Mezza Luna could possibly have. It could probably crush the entire Crystal Empire as well, it was an impressive force indeed.

With Mezza Luna defeated, they could finally turn to more important issues. Issues such as the hundred-thousand strong Griffon military on one side, and the million-strong Saddle Arabians on the other. The Saddle Arabians were bogged down in war with the Zebra Empire at the moment, but they would surely try for Equestria eventually.

Win a war, and move on to the next one. History was just the living stumbling from crisis to crisis. 

Wildcard trotted out of the camp, and to the clearing the soldiers had made into a landing field. Among the many idle vehicles were a few dozen helicopters, including the one that brought him there from ponyville, sat idle. His pilot had been waiting for him to finish briefing, and would then bring him up for aerial insertion.

Parachutes? Who needs parachutes when you have wings.

Wildcard walked over to the vehicle, parked amongst the others, and noticed the pilot sleeping. He made a note of her name before waking her up, somepony was going on latrine duty tomorrow.

“Hey, Cherry, wake up!” Wildcard said, and bonked her helmet

Cherry shot up, pushed Wildcard aside, and flopped face-first into the muddy airfield. 

“It’s not treason if I didn’t know!” she shouted frantically, and rolled over.

“Oh.”

Wildcard helped her up, and she brushed the mud off her dull green uniform. Home Guard reservists didn’t get the nice ones of the Legion, or the Wonderbolt uniforms. Cheap fatigues, made in a factory by the thousand.

“It’s you.” She said, and looked over Wildcard.

“Yes, me. Your boss, as of tomorrow.” Wildcard returned.

Cherry coughed, and tried to look like a proper soldier. The ill-fitting uniform, covered in mud, and her stance didn’t quite work out though.

Inwardly, Wildcard sighed. If the entire Home Guard was like this, than perhaps this was more a punishment than an honour.

“You’re all ready to go then, boss? I’m supposed to drop you at five thousand meters fifty miles south,” Cherry said.

“You bet. Got some business with a waning moon.”

Cherry took her place in the helicopter, and Wildcard sat beside her. The craft was impressive, Wildcard noted. Fast, light, and maneuverable, it was too bad that the engines were too weak for any serious guns to be installed. For now, anyway, the nations best engineers were finally starting to prove their worth, and all sorts of prototypes were being fielded. Wildcard was rather eager to dig into those files tomorrow.

The helicopter quickly rose into the air, and then swivelled around to head south. Wildcard was able to get a good view of the camp from the air. The tents were lined up haphazardly, except for a section slightly split off from the rest. If he had to guess, that was the elite soldiers here to make sure everything went according to plan. In the air above, overshadowing everything, a dozen airships floated behind the leading radar-ship. The Magnificent wasn’t here, but there was still plenty of firepower aboard those frigates. A majority of it was held in the three largest ones, a triple line of missile frigates. With Mezza Luna out of the picture, the Wonderbolts finally were able to get their full complement, and it was already making a difference elsewhere. Each of those frigates had enough to tear a smaller fleet apart, or raze an entire town to it’s foundations.

So naturally Luna had brought three.

Miles away, on the other side of all this, Wildcard had his own insurance. Silver Shield and a few others had infiltrated the Hollow Shades, and anybody that tried to go to ground after the engagement today would find themselves… disappearing.

The cancer would finally be cut out of Equestria, after so much pain. That removal would be total, none of Mezza Luna’s people could be allowed to survive. Their existence alone was a threat, and they had all been party to capital crimes. They would all pay, today or tomorrow, they would all pay.

The helicopter flew onwards and upwards, and slowly the trees receded into the background to become a green blur far below. Wildcard, somewhere around the 2000 meter range, noticed for the first time his pilot was an earth pony.

It was so minor he hadn’t even thought about it, but why was an earth pony piloting a helicopter? They had no way to escape if something happened, they would perish along with it.

Brave pony.

Wildcard read his dossier on the way in, and carefully noted the details of Archers capture. Flash Sentry's report read like a science fiction novel, it was so utterly outlandish. It explained a few things though, such as where that bizarre technology had come from.

Over the clouds they went, and then the craft edged its nose upwards to slow its forward momentum. Cherry flicked a switch on the control board, and turned to Wildcard.

“This’ll do it, five thousand meters,” she said, and glanced out the open side of the helicopter.

“This’ll do indeed. You get back to Luna, and tell her the cure is here,” Wildcard said, and leapt out his side.

Wildcard flipped around in the air, and then stuck out his limbs to steady his descent. Far below he could see a few spots on the ground, which looked to be grounded airships. Smaller ones, probably gunships, circled around in the air. Compared to what she had commanded before, the force was quite pathetic. Two frigates, a handful of gunships, and by the looks of the nearby tents, less than a hundred troops. 

The only reason they hadn’t surrendered, despite clearly impossible odds, Wildcard knew from experience. They knew that if they did, they had still committed terrible crimes, and would have to pay. Treason had a high price, even in such a peaceful nation as Equestria. So they waited for inevitable, in the hopes that at the very least they could go down “honourably.” It was the same reason no changeling warrior had ever surrendered, and standard protocol was to either run or die if overwhelmed. These soldiers, if they could even be called that, just waited for one last chance to lash out before going into the night.

These thestrals had lost their right to anything like honour when they started on this quest for total power. They knew the risks going in; they either won, and took the state for themselves; or they lost, and perished. To allow them to live would be to allow others to attempt the same, the risks had to be followed up, backed up, by actions. Allowing them to surrender, to go back to their lives, sent the message that treason was some sort of game to be played, with no real risk if you lost.

It was a sort of game, but you never got to play twice. Those were the only rules.

On approach, Wildcard noticed the formation on the ground. One of the frigates was in the middle of everything, and the rest circled. Wildcard figured this must be the command ship, and finally opened his wings to properly control his descent towards it. He quickly disguised himself, and blushed slightly when he realized he was a few inches taller than Archer was, which wasn’t something he couldn’t quite control.

Any being of the same mass.

Wildcard, now clearly in the form a thestral, slowed himself down to normal flying speed, and circled around downwards towards the command frigate. From up close it looked more like an airyacht, which had been hastily converted into a ship of war. It was an older design, and relied on a great big balloon of gas to stay floating. It would be magically attuned so that even if the ballon was lost it would descent slowly, but relied on that balloon for actual movement in the air.

It had a name, stencilled on the side in great golden letters. A name that they had let stand, even after the ship made its way to its new master.

“Night Star”

Wildcard was sure now that it was the command ship, and swooped down towards it. The many thestrals flying around didn’t pay any attention to him- they had no reason to expect attack from one of their own.

Ironic that this trust would be their ultimate destruction, Wildcard thought, and grinned as he slipped under the balloon to the ship deck. A few dozen armed thestrals stood watch down there, and they noticed him come in.

In the middle of them, positioned on a rail pointed outwards, was a long cylinder. It looked like a Wonderbolt or Griffon missile, but scaled way up. A few thestrals that had been doing some sort of work on it glanced back, but didn’t pause in their work.

“Director Archer!” One of them shouted, and saluted with the rest.

A larger, and more armoured, thestral near the edge of the deck noticed him, and strode over.

“Well I’ll be damned, you did make it out of Canterlot. Commander wants you, the story will have to wait for later,” He said, and pointed down the deck.

Wildcard saluted, and strode off towards the wooden doors that he assumed led below decks. The door guard saluted, and opened the door for him. Wildcard quite enjoyed the feeling of being in command, and held his head high as he walked inside. The room beyond the doors was full of electronic machines, buzzing away while away a dozen thestrals managed them. At the far end of the room was a large display, which was currently showing a map of Equestria. Their position was marked, and so was Canterlot- with a great big X.

There was something else beside it, which sent Wildcard into a panic.

“Launch: T-5:00:47”

Wildcard coughed to give himself an excuse to wipe a sudden bout of perspiration off his brow, and one of the thestrals turned to him.

“Oh, hey Director. Just in time for the fireworks, I imagine Mezza Luna has a front row seat for you,” he said, and then turned back to his station.

Wildcard slipped away to the side, and down a staircase that led into the belly of the ship. The captains quarters would be below, he guessed.

Wildcard turned the corner, and was right. The door to the room directly under the bridge was wide open, and inside Mezza Luna was flopped on a desk, apparently asleep at her station.

The evil generally didn’t sleep well.

Wildcard knocked on the door, and she groggily opened her eyes to look at him.

“Oh! Director!” She exclaimed, and shot up in her seat.

“Come on in. They’ve hurt us, but we’re not done yet. Give me your report on Location B, and I’ll fill you in what we’re doing now.”

Wildcard closed the door, and took a seat and the desk across from her. He remembered the report he had read, and gave her his.

“Location B… was a wreck. Most of the equipment was water damaged, and those bastards they sent in after me made short work of what was left. It’s a write off, I told you we should never have shut it down to begin with,” Wildcard said.

Just the right amount of arrogance, in his opinion. Mezza Luna scowled at him, but a resigned sigh proved him right.

“Yeah well, if we had kept it up, maybe there wouldn’t be an Equestria left for us to fight over,” She said, and spun a paper around on the table before nudging it to Wildcard.

“Recognize it?” She asked.

Project Waxing Moon, it read on top. Below was the outline of a cone shaped rocket, with a large warhead mounted on top. It looked extremely similar to the Griffon missiles, except much larger according to the diagram. That wasn’t the most terrifying part though, according to this they had managed to keep a stockpile of nerve gas. This warhead could carry enough to wipe out an entire city. 

Leave it to Mezza Luna to take insecticide and turn it into a weapon of mass murder.

“That’s what that countdown is for then, our victory?” Wildcard said, and looked back to Mezza Luna.

She grinned at him, baring her teeth.

“Not quite victory, we’re well past that now. Revenge, Archer. Celestia and the other alicorns are meeting in Canterlot today. We’re going to kill them- all of them. They may have taken all our sites, but we still have this ship,” she said.

“Along with a hundred thousand ponies, and all those that betrayed our cause. It’s perfect,” Wildcard said, and slid a hoof down his leg.

“Quite, and during the chaos our fleet here will blaze a patch out towards the Griffon Isles. Equestria is dead to us, but there’s a future there.”

Click

“What was that?” Mezza Luna asked.

Wildcard stood up, and cracked his neck. Behind him, the door quietly locked itself. Wildcard raised his gun, and Mezza Luna slid back in her chair, looking at him confused.

“Archer? If you think you're going to take over you should know I’m about the only one that thinks you're sane.”

Wildcard smirked, and with a flash of green dissolved his disguise, he pointed the gun forward, straight at her chest.

“Well, isn’t that strange- I don’t”

Mezza Luna shot out of her chair, “You basta-“

Bang.

She bounced forward against the desk, blood spraying out of a new hole in her chest. She snarled at Wildcard, and desperately reached forward with her hooves while struggling to draw breath.

Bang. Bang.

Two more holes, but she was still pulling herself forward with an animalistic hatred. Her eyes burned with it, and she seemed reached out to him with her hoof. Wildcard put the other three rounds into her, and she finally fell forward on her face, dead.

Wildcard tossed the empty gun aside, its barrel still smoking from the barrage it had loosed. He took her own form, and pulled her bloody body to the other side of the desk. Then he opened the door, and was greeted by a trio of rifles.

“Archer and I had… a disagreement,” Wildcard said.

The thestrals quickly lowered their weapons, and Wildcard strode into the hallway. He quickly closed the door behind him, and then turned to the three.

“Go back to your posts, now,” he ordered.

The hesitated for a moment, and then collectively shrugged.

“I never liked him anyway,” One of them said, and the three left back up the stairs. 

Wildcard waited a moment, and then went down the hallway. He followed it down into the belly of the ship, down into the engineering section. The middle of the ship, which would have originally held cargo, was now full of cannon-shot for the rows of guns on the side. Wildcard strode over to a convenient window, and made sure he had a clear passage out.

Seeing that he did, and that the ship was still on the ground, he shattered the glass with his elbow and took the grenade out of his pocket. He hefted it in his hoof.

“TG-6”

He had no idea what that meant, but pulled the pin and tossed it down at the collected ammunition. Then, wasting no time, he dove out the window and quickly took wing, flying away as fast as possible. After a few seconds he heard a pop, but no explosion.

He glance back, and squinted to look back into the window.

The ship was on fire.

“Oh, Thermo-Grenade, I get it!” Wildcard said to himself, and then realized just how close he still was to a few tonnes of explosives about to go off.

He covered his eyes from the blinding flash that suddenly blew out of the ship, and was tossed backwards like a rag doll by a powerful shockwave that tore it apart. He lost his disguise, and his hearing, and was forced against the ground- hard. 

He managed to fight off the stars in his eyes thought, and weakly pulled himself forward. His back was hot, burning hot, but all he could do was crawl. All he could hear was a buzzing that pierced into his brain, and all he could see was a blur of brown mud as he desperate crawled forward. He wasn’t dead, but he had probably come close.

After a minute or two his vision began to return, and the buzzing faded away. It was replaced by a ringing now, and he had enough strength to pull himself to his feet. He glanced back at the burning wreckage behind him, and was happy to note he had apparently- judging by his trail in the mud- dodged a cannon by a few inches.

His job was done, so he sprinted forwards away from it all. The treeline wasn’t far, and the thestrals were all far too busy preparing for air combat. They buzzed in the sky like insects, probably assuming they had been fired on from the outside. Wildcard made it into the treeline, and slid to a stop to catch his breath. He flopped down in the mud, and looked back at the clearing.

The other ship was taking off, but before it even got over the fire and smoke from the Blue Blood, a trio of explosions tore it aft to stern. It broke apart, and the ground shook as it met the ground- for a final time. 

Another trio of explosions vaporized three of the patrolling gunships, following quickly by another trio.

Except for the rumbling growls of after-explosions and haphazard attempts at return fire, it then fell to silence. Wildcard decided it was high time to leave for good, and ran back into the trees. Soon enough, the sound of Wonderbolt guns tore into the air behind him, and the relentless pummelling of gun batteries on the ground shook the earth. Wildcard took to the air, and shot up over the trees. He spared a glance back towards the camp, an allowed himself to savour the moment.

The guns were silent, and Mezza Luna’s force of traitors was nothing but a smoking ruin. Thick, acrid, smoke which filled the sky. She had died before she was able to get her “revenge”, and her entire force had gone down with barely a fight. They had been destroyed utterly, in the middle of nowhere, muddy, cold, and alone.

A dark end for a dark person. Wildcard flew off, and sighted the lead ship of the attack-force in the distance. He flew towards it, and was quickly approached by one of the Wonderbolt squadrons flying out there. A pair circled around behind him, while their leader came to his side.

Rather disconcerting, but they were all on the same side.

“Duke Wildcard, follow us in! Luna wants to talk to you!” The leader shouted at him over the wind.

Wildcard followed them towards the ship, and they flew over its deck. Their leader simply pointed downwards to it, and Wildcard dropped from the sky to land there. Luna was discussing something with a few of her lieutenants, including one which Wildcard thought he recognized, when he did.

“Ah, Duke Wildcard,” Luna said, and parted the group so he could join them.

“We got your… signal. I approve of your method, very direct. Give me your report,” Luna said.

Wildcard stepped in the middle of the group, noting that they were all well-decorated officers of the legion. The one beside him, he remembered, was Flash Sentry.

According to the insignia on his shoulder, he was a major now. He also had a damn respectable collection of ribbons, and, incredibly perplexingly, a fourth leg.

Wildcard stared at it, and forgot where he was.

“Duke, we don’t have all day,” Luna said.

Wildcard looked up, and shared an awkward glance with Flash before clearing his throat to start.

“You were right, that was the last of her force. This was well timed, she was preparing to use a nerve agent against Canterlot. If you had moved tomorrow, Thousands would be dead.”

Luna was clearly angered by this, and scowled at the others.

“How did we not know of this?! I was told all of their weapons of terror had been accounted for!”

Most of them looked the ground, but Flash immediately replied. Wildcard took a look a himself while he did. He hurt all over, his coat was burnt on the back, and his wings were singed on the edges. He was muddy, bruised, and every time he breathed there was a stinging pain on the left of his chest. He had probably broken a rib. The first stop, after debriefing, was the medbay.

“The Night Guard had carte-blanche for thirty years. We thought we had it all covered, but there was always the possibility of more surprises. All we can do now, is hope that’s the last.”

He then turned to Wildcard.

“Is it?”

Wildcard nodded.

“It’s done.”

Luna sighed, and waved them all off. She approached Wildcard through them, and put a hoof on his shoulder.

“You have done well for Equestria on this day. Tomorrow, you will begin your duties as head of the Home Guard. I expect to see you in the briefings once more, and I’ll speak to you in the morning. This ship will return to Canterlot shortly, it’s yours now.”

She then leaned forward, and whispered in Wildcards ear.

“Was it painful?”

“Yes.”
> Intermission: Echoes in the Night
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Echo was, as anyone could guess on a quick look at her, a thestral. She, and everyone before her for a thousand years, had served their time in the Night Guard. It was their duty to protect the others from the things that went bump in the night, and they fulfilled it as best they could. It was thought that the other races simply weren’t able to do what needed to be done, and that only the Thestrals could light the dark so others could follow.

This thinking had nearly destroyed them. Thinking they were superior, with a special place as the shining sword of Equestria, had led them astray. Their unquestionable loyalty had been bent with a single question: Who should guide the sword?

The answer had always been Luna, but without her they had sought guidance from her sister. For a time that was good, but resentment was inevitable. As Luna’s return came nearer, that resentment grew into a cancer that consumed the inner realm of the Night Guard. When she returned, they looked to her to lead them into a glorious future:  Now, they had a pony that deserved them, that knew the realities of this world, that knew how to guide the sword against their enemies.

When Luna had simply cast aside that sword, and decided to put her faith in her sisters military apparatus, the resentment became a fiery hate of Celestia and everything she represented. Even Luna wasn’t spared from their- for clearly her sister had corrupted her from what she once was. She needed to be destroyed, along with her sister, for a more honourable future; for a stronger future. If the sword master cannot weild it properly, they must be destroyed.

So the sword had turned, and stabbed forth at it’s master. It’s master was no fool however, and easily parried the blow. The sword then tore itself apart, and was no more.  It left a mark on it’s master through this treason however, a mark which will never heal. Far worse, however, is the mark it left on itself. While the master sought to repair the blade, she also sought to reform it. No longer was it a blade, but a shield.

Echo had been there through it all, and had seen both sides. She, like all of them, had entered the academy at the age of twelve. She was conscripted by Mezza Luna after showing proficiency in mechanical skills, and sent into the research facility known as Location B. There she had seen things that no pony should, and understood the terrible hatred of her superiors. She knew the insanity of Archer long before anyone else, but what was she to do? If all those that you are supposed to follow, all of your mentors and teachers, are insane- what does that make you? Are they not supposed to be sane, and so you are the mad one? This logic drove her onwards, and she tried to adjust her morals to fit those she was told were right. 

When the facility was closed, she moved on. Her superiors had been disappointed by her lack of faith, and never included her in their continued schemes. She never forgot, however, nor did she forgive. Their race was tarnished by the treason of those that had been allowed to lead it, and now a new question arose: Why didn’t we act?

The thestrals were an ancient and proud people, and the current generation looked on itself as the ones that had driven their storied history into the dirt. They had allowed their leaders to take them down a path of treason and hate, and had become the very thing they had defended the world from for so long. Was it just for them to continue to strive to protect the world once more, or was it just for them to fade into history, as a dishonoured people? Every one of them know knew a singular guilt, because every one of them had stood by while the cancer developed. Had they done their duty, even though it may have been risky, they could have averted everything.

They didn’t.

So now, the question in Echo’s head was different. 

Do we deserve a second chance?

She pondered that question incessantly, and found that the answer was, according to her own traditions: no. The Night Guard had never been known to give anyone a second chance, they always struck first and nipped any threat in the bud.

Perhaps, however, that was part of the problem. Perhaps by being forgiven, they could learn to forgive. Perhaps, eventually, they could forgive themselves. 

She pondered this, over and over, as she looked out at the night sky. She stood on the edge of a cliff, overlooking the city of Canterlot. Forever they would be reminded of their treason when they looked at- the city would forever bear the scars of that dark day.

She felt some consolation in the stars, which hung over everything as they always had. No matter what happened here, she knew she was only a tiny spec of the greater picture. Empires rose and fell, races came and went, but the stars would always be there. They changed, of course, but over such huge time period that it put her own into perspective. Only a handful of beings lived long enough to see the stars themselves change, and it was the advice of one she sought tonight. 

Princess Luna had founded the Night Guard, out of the remains of Lord Sombra’s armies. He had used the thestrals much as she had, but had wielded his sword as a bloody instrument of terror. Perhaps, if the thestrals had been able to overcome their dark origins, they could do it again. Luna had saved them from Sombra’s terrible reign, perhaps she could save them from themselves.

Echo heard flapping, and adjusted her ears to listen close. Large wings, beating softly against the air with the practiced soar of a pegasus. She looked out to the city, and with her keen thestral vision, saw a figure flying through the night towards her. It carried a stream of stars behind it, which sparkled even more beautifully than those above. 

Princess Luna flew over, and spun around behind to land. Echo continued looking over the city, and flicked an ear back to hear her land. She trotted over softly, and sat beside the thestral.

“Echo, I heard you wanted to talk,” she said.

Echo nodded, “I did, and thank you for coming. I had wondered if you would give any of us so much as the time of night, after what we did.”

Luna sighed, and looked over the city as well.

“You need not be so self-loathing, dear thestral. You honour is tarnished, and your race wounded, yes- but I have seen your race climb from the blackest pits. I bear your shame with you, and I will see us through to a greater future,” Luna spoke.

Echo moved closer, so that her wing was against Luna’s, and she could feel the warmth coming from her superior. She was a mother to them all, and they were truly blessed to have her back.

They had repayed that blessing by trying to kill her.

Luna seemed to have guessed her thought, and spoke again, “I have mistakes myself, you know. A thousand years ago in fact, and the thestrals stood by me during that dark time. I tried to kill my own sister, Echo, in a fit of jealously and rage. She… forgave me, even so.”

A tear dropped from Luna’s eye. Even she was flesh and blood, she felt regret and remorse like any other.

“How?” Echo asked.

“Love,” Luna returned.

Echo took a breath, and wished it took her more time to ask what she did.

“Do you love us?” 

Luna swept a wing over Echo, and drew her in close. She looked down on the thestral, her smile seeming to glow in the night. 

“Of course, you are my children of the night, dear Echo. I forgive you, and may we only grow closer from all this hate. That, after all, is exactly what the traitors fought against. Hate was their weapon, but love is more powerful. I learned this myself, and now you will too,” she said.

Echo had no more words, and just hugged her sovereign while she released a flow of tears that ran down her face. She loved her, and receiving her forgiveness was a release without any match. Her question had been answered, and so had her prayers.

When Echo opened her eyes again, Luna was gone. She had apparently fallen asleep on the cliffside, and it was nearly morning. 

A new day dawned for the ponies, but for Echo this was the end of a long night of fretful introspection. She soared down towards the mouth of the cave that was her home, and did so with a renewed happiness, and a new love of life. She had her second chance, and she wasn’t going to let anything slow her down. She was going to be the best Night Guard there ever was, regardless of what that meant now. 

She was understandably surprised when that turned out to mean assignment on the HMS Magnificent. 
> False Flags I
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Wildcard and his wife walked hoof in hoof, and it was a rather dreary evening in Ponyville. Fitting that it should be so- it was the first of October. Winter had come stealthily in the night, and a thin coating of snow could be found over everything.This winter had come early, but it wasn’t so bad, not for Wildcard anyway. The hive at this time of year was a wet mess of cold mud. School was cancelled for the day, although this was simple coincidence- Cheerilee was the only real teacher in the small town, and she was busy trying to explain how important that was to a draft board in Canterlot. She had done well for Wildcard though, and First Class had already made sure she would come back, with a significant raise. The school, however, would be re-purposed to a battle academy. Such was war.

The others in the city however, had problems of their own. While the fillies and colts playing in the streets didn’t notice, Wildcard and First Class did. Flyers on nearly every blank wall sounded the rallying cry for another protest later today, which was sure to draw all sorts of unruly ponies from other cities. Ponyville was a stronghold of loyalty to the princesses, and that’s exactly why Trotsky chose to protest there more than anywhere- nearly weekly now. He was goading them, desperately trying to force the townspeople to engage him, to prove right his own theories on the nature of ponies.

Thus far the townspeople had met him with kindness and civility, but everyone had their limits. 

A breeze of wind blew some snow into his face, and Wildcard drew his coat in tighter. He hadn’t been feeling quite right lately, but perhaps it was just the whether. It would take more than a cold to stop him, anyway.

First Class strode beside him, deep in thought. 

“I conducted a poll last week; Silver had your people in Equestria Daily help out. I’m ahead, Wildcard, but it’s the places I’m not that concern me,” She said.

“Why’s that?” 

“They’re too dense. Ponyville is nearly unanimous, most of the country hovers around two-thirds, but Manehatten and Baltimare- what's left of it- are almost totally against me. I fear that they’ll break off. I'm going to head that way tomorrow, try and convince them who the real enemy is.”

Wildcard frowned, his wife was right. If an election was held she would surely win, but two two cities that had seen the worst in this war had totally lost faith in the monarchy. First Class was seen to represent it. If she won a theoretical election, right now, they could pick a fight. Or else they could separate, and try going on their own. Perhaps even seek membership in the Crystal Empire.

Whatever they chose, it wouldn't end well.

“So that’s why Luna has been delaying saying anything? If they sense an election is coming, and they’re going to lose…” Wildcard thought aloud.

“… Exactly, they’ll secede pre-emptively. Equestria is already bleeding, I don’t think it would survive getting it’s legs broken too,” She said, and stopped to look at one of the posters.





Freedom of speech, freedom of assembly! Come and have your voice heard, and rally against the powers of oppression! Towards a brighter future, together! Tear down the Lunar wall, and extinguish the Solar fire! Friday October 1st, Ponyville. 8PM.





First Class tore it off, and tossed it aside.

“Ponyville. Not a mention of  where  in Ponyville, just Ponyville. He’s bringing in help from the other towns, if I only I knew who so I could have them locked up for the night,” she said.

"This town hasn't known a quiet night for months, they don't deserve this nonsense," she added, growling at the crumbled up paper.

Wildcard put a hoof on her shoulder.

“That’s what he wants. If you do anything even in the slightest against him, he’ll react as if you personally stomped his throat with a jackboot. No, what we need to do is get rid of the problem at the source,” Wildcard said.

First Class squinted at him.

“That’s rather ominous, especially coming from you,” She said.

Wildcard laughed, and they continued their walk. Their walk took them back to their home, and Silver saluted outside. He had become like Wildcard’s right hand, and his loyalty was absolute. He and his hundred changeling soldiers had become the intelligence wing of the Home Guard, and Wildcard’s public relations agency. For weeks now Equestria Daily had been publishing stories of Thestral heroism, Changeling generosity, and tales of friendship. Simultaneously, they had been running slander campaigns against Chrysalis (The great liar) and Trotsky, who EQD was styling as "A businessman who puts his pocketbook first," true enough.

Wildcard wasn’t sure, at this point, if Luna or himself was pulling that newspaper harder. Luna’s decree’s had turned the open media into a propaganda machine, and he was definitely taking advantage of it. 

“Welcome back you two, have a nice walk?” Silver greeted. 

“We did, thank you,” First Class said, and stepped inside.

Wildcard stayed out with Silver, and leaned in close.

“Do we have an entry?” he whispered.

Silver nodded, and handed Wildcard a naked manilla envelope. Wildcard stuffed it in his jacket, and then ducked inside. First Class had flopped near the fireplace, and stared into it while she thought whatever thoughts she had. Wildcard silently worked around her, and went up to their room. 

He sat on the bed, and opened the envelope. He grinned widely to see what was inside, and reclined to read it.

A changeling dossier, describing- quite intimately- the life story of one Velvet Glove. She was a highly respected member of Trotsky’s “Pony Independence” party, and quite possibly his lover. Silver had truly outdone himself to get all this, it provided Wildcard exactly what he needed.

Infiltrate the PI party, and find whatever critical weakness Trotsky has. Perhaps he has been evading taxes, perhaps there was some proof he was preparing for insurrection- maybe he could even be connected to Mezza Luna. The only thing Wildcard couldn’t do was outright kill him- that would make a martyr. He was able to do anything else though, anything to discredit the pony and make him look like a criminal, or a fool; both, if possible. If he was removed from the equation, Baltimare and Manehatten wouldn't have anything to fight for, and would have to accept First Class's rule.

Wildcard was eager to begin, but found himself unable to rise out of bed. He was suddenly tired, and decided to leave the matter for tomorrow. He folded the document back into the folder, and slipped it under the mattress. 

No sense acting tonight anyway, too many eyes would be on him. So he closed his eyes, and allowed sleep to overtake him.

First Class, down in the living room, continued her pondering by fire. So many things were on her plate at the moment, so very many. Ensuring factory production met expected levels, tallying up the captured Night Guard equipment, and keeping tabs on expenditures all around the state. It was mentally exhausting, and took nearly sixteen hours every day to keep up. 

At least Mezza Luna was dead, and Archer was imprisoned, so that chapter was finally closed. Luna's trial had lasted ten minutes, and he would spend the rest of his life in the Canterlot Dungeons. They had however, in a strange roundabout way, given them a gift. Their research would greatly benefit the war effort, and First Class had managed to assemble her own secret weapon. She kept it secret from everyone, even the Princesses and her own husband, simply because she wasn’t quite sure it would work.

The Night Guard had aspirations of building a second Magnificent, dubbed the Paraselene. With the start of the war though, they were forced to abandon this idea as the material required to build such a magnificent machine would have blown their treason wide open if they stole it. A large amount of the equipment that would make the core of this new ship had been created at several locations however, and it was all in her hooves now. 

They still didn't have the material to build a second Magnificent- and certainly had no crew for such a ship, so she had instead thought outside the box. What was she going to do with an incredibly powerful alicornium based reactor, computing devices capable of massive amounts of number crunching, and a few gigantic engines?

The answer was perhaps the greatest siege weapon ever made. A single great gun, mounted on what had been a simple supply barge. The weapon itself she had taken from one of Twilight’s many ideas, something she called a “railgun”. This weapon, when used, could create an explosion equal to one-thousand tonnes of conventional explosive, at a range of several hundred kilometres. Magnets, and a lot of electricity, made a potent combination.

Thus far though, the guns had a simple problem: they melted, exploded, or fell apart. No material yet available could take the force required. The theory was there, the practice wasn’t. When she had finalized the plans for this, First Class had rolled a 26 sided die, and named it Project 11.

Nobody would bat an eye over something so boring sounding, so it was perfect. It gave her something to think about that wasn’t accounting or trivial government work, and could perhaps be her great contribution to the war. Only a dozen people, other than herself, knew about it. They were all thestrals, formerly in Mezza Luna's employ, and they knew that if they broke the secret they would find themselves in prison rather quickly. A few of them had committed some serious crimes, but she was willing to put justice on hold for the greater good. Living with the constant threat of imprisonment over their heads must be a prison in itself, after all.

First Class sighed, and flipped the burning log before her over with the poker. When had she started keeping secrets? It wasn’t like her, but she couldn’t stop at this point. This product had to either pan out, or fail, entirely by her own leadership.

She nodded to herself. That reasoning was enough for her. If she couldn’t handle a simple top-secret military project, what business would she have running the entire Equestrian state? 

At that, she grinned, and got up as she had an idea. She strode over to her desk, got out some official parchment, and wrote up a rather simple order. She ordered that every factory involved in war-time production- which it could be argued was every factory , would have a political director assigned.

Which would report to her. 

Trotsky would know damn well who was in charge. He might own the factories, but she was Minister of State. They were at war, and she could nationalize the damn things if she really wanted to. That would probably lead to violence however, so it remained the Alicornium option. There was also a rather interesting mare named Valient Veil that was turning heads after buying Southrop-Grumman, but she was too unknown to trust such important work to.

As she folded the order into an envelope, there was a knock at the door. The mayor of Ponyville announced herself, and First Class bade her enter. A light tan pony, with grey hair and spectacles that went out of style thirty years ago trotted in.

Mayor Mare always looked nervous. and the war was not doing much for it. She stepped in, quickly closed the door, and glanced around the room worriedly.

“Is there something I can do for you, Mayor?” First Class asked.

Mayor Mare walked towards her uneasily, continuing to glance around as if expecting someone to leap out at her.

“I noticed you don't have any guards, so I was going to suggest the police stand guard for tonight,” She said, standing before First Class’s desk.

First Class laughed, and the mayor looked at her as if she was insane.

“Ms. Mayor; As soon as you approached that door, three changelings have been watching you from the building over. Do you notice that my window is open?” First Class asked.

Mayor Mare swallowed, and glanced out the window. She quickly made out the tell-tale shining of three scopes watching her from a window across the street.

“If anyone so much as looks at me funny, there’s a pair of thestrals watching over as well. They are here to deal with anyone sketchy, while the changelings will deal with anyone… violent,” First Class said, and tented her hooves on the desk.

“I assure you mayor, I am well protected.”

The mayor backed off, and slowly moved for the door.

“I… see. Uh, good evening then!” She coughed out, and quickly darted back out.

First Class smiled and leaned back in the chair, it had been a while since she had so much fun. Convincing people that you were some sort of dark, mysterious, evil, manipulator brought her great fun these days. Going out with a pair of armed thestrals at her side had the effect of keeping away riff-raff, and had the dual effect of showing the people that the thestrals could be trusted. She was trusting them with her life after all. 

Luna had jokingly referred to her as Dusk Shine in a meeting once, First Class certainly had learned from her. A leader should be strong, and that strength should be visible. Her husband always traveled armed, but she never did. Respect, and authority, those were her greatest weapons. Others would fight for her, and die for her if need be. 

Soon, she would have magic as well. First Class had gotten behind in her studies, but she did her best. She could move grains of salt easily enough now, and perhaps soon enough she could try conjuration. 

Relying on that staff was annoying though. She had it covered covered in velvet, so that anybody else would simply assume it was a decorative staff. She knew better though, it was the key to her eventual ascension. What a day that would be. She would be the first pegasus in their history to do as such, and would have done it through strength of will and wits. An outsider that forced her way inside, whatever it might take. In the annals of history, she would stand side by side with Celestia.

First Class reached into the desk, removed a textbook, and spent the rest of the night reading. Eventually Trotsky’s “protest” went by, and she looked on it from her bedroom window on the second floor. To her chagrin, he went by without doing anything she could have him arrested for. Only shouting absurdities about how “evil” the Princess’s were. There was no law against being an idiot.

First Class sighed, and slid into bed beside her husband. He was colder than than usual, so she encircled his body with her own, and covered him with her wings. He had so many faults, enough to write a good sized treatise on, but she loved him beyond anything else in this world. He was the only person that never judged her, her decisions, or tried to leverage her position for his own gain unfairly. When they discussed “work”, it was always on even terms. He supported her, through everything, and she did the same.

She carried his child, as well. Soon she would be a mother, something she had never even considered before being confronted with it. Their child would be born into a new world, and their parents would be leading it.

It made her happy. Happier than she had ever been. 


___


Wildcard awoke in the early morning, and pulled himself out of bed to the washroom with a splitting headache. A splash of water to the face drove the sleep away, and he stared into his bloodshot eyes.

He didn’t even know Changeling eyes could be bloodshot until now. It was like looking at a drop of water somebody had dripped red food colouring into.

Wildcard sighed, washed his face the best he could, and took a better look at himself. He did not look good. No, he looked terrible. Wildcard looked at the face of someone ten years older than he had a few weeks ago, with a furrowed brow and deep wrinkles in his face. He was only thirty years old, and there was something not right about it. He ran a hoof through his mane, and found a clump of it decided to join it. He was not in good shape, for some reason, but that would have to wait. He took a quick shower, and made himself look reasonable with a bit of his wife’s makeup. It covered up the worst of his suddenly sagging face, and that would do well enough.

The throbbing of his head was solved by a handful of painkillers; thank Celestia for modern medicine. With that accomplished, Wildcard took a quick breakfast of oats, and left First Class a note. He was out on business, and that’s exactly what the note read. He walked out of his home, clad in the uniform of an Equestrian officer, with that dossier in the inside pocket. His first destination was Canterlot, First Class had her business, and he had his. 

He had come up with a plan in the night, and looked back at Ponyville on the the train. He could see his current home from there, and thought of First Class.

“For you.” 
	
> False Flags II
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Wildcard rode the train to Canterlot, the greatest city in all Equestria; It had been wounded, but it still was a sight to behold. Over the last month most of the worst damage had been covered up, since it was the capital after all; they would look weak if Canterlot was a mess. A great deal of the cities inhabitants had been forced to share lodging together while their homes were repaired, and Celestia’s School now housed the government. 

The Magnificent was berthed, with a few dozen other ships, out over the cliffside. One of these had been given to Wildcard for official home-guard use. He had immediately renamed it the Ace in the Hole. It had been berthed here ever since the fall of Mezza Luna, waiting for some emergency. He had been spending most of his time there, with the weekends at Ponyville.

The Magnificent would be out to sea soon, which would leave homeland defence in his hooves. Or at least, the first line. The Home Guard, Wildcard had learned, wasn’t expected to really hold the line, only delay any invasion long enough for a larger force to respond.

They were cannon fodder.

Still, a job was a job, it had authority and the chance of honour; and Wildcard was happy to do it. Wildcard departed the train as soon as it arrived, and strolled out amongst a few scattered passengers. 

It was a noisy day in Canterlot, as the sounds of construction echoed through the streets. Under Luna’s gaze, the city would rise like a phoenix, to be greater than it had ever been. At the present however, it was just a cold expanse of cranes and scaffolding. Quite cold, in fact, and icy as well. Wildcard had to watch his footing, lest he slip on the thin coating of ice on everything. It was like the city had been flash-frozen.

He shivered, and sped up his pace to his destination. Through the streets he went, towards the docks. When he got there, a heavily armed checkpoint stood between him and the military berthing area, and a uniformed pony stopped him just before a gated metal fence.

Wildcard reached in his coat for his ID while the pony ordered him to halt. He handed it over, and the pony scanned it intently.

“Director Wildcard eh? Sounds more like a title for a movie producer. Are you sure you’re in the right place?” The guard teased.

Wildcard grabbed his card back, and glared at him.

“Very funny, you know I’m your boss right?” Wildcard said, and poked the insignia on the guards uniform.

The guard laughed, and nodded to his partner, who opened the metal gate.

“I can’t get much lower than I am now Director, unless you’re going to discharge me?”

Wildcard looked up at him.

“No, but I could send you down south,” He threatened.

The guard saluted hastily, and clumsily backed off.

“Yes sir, no sir, sorry sir!” 

Wildcard smirked at him, and passed on into the military dockyards. It was rather busy in there, as hundreds of Wonderbolts and Marines geared the Magnificent up for voyaging back to the ocean. They were setting out with state of the art equipment, and the Magnificent had been upgraded as well. No longer was the hanger totally covered, that metal had been re-used elsewhere. The flight-deck was open to the air now, with only enough shielding to cover it from ground fire. A tall structure shot out from the rear, with a spherical device on top. Wildcard could tell from here that it was spinning, slowly.

That, apparently, was Twilights great invention. Radar she called it, and apparently it would allow the ship to detect anything in the air for hundreds of kilometres around. Thanks to some of that Night Guard tech, the guns could fire automatically using it as well. It was one hell of a weapon, that was for sure. They could take down those Saddle Arabian planes before they knew they had been sighted. 

Wildcard sighed, and took a moment to look at it. It was a truly beautiful ship that Spitfire commanded. He strode over to one of it’s boarding planks, and looked up at a Wonderbolt looking back down at him.

He shrugged, and walked up the plank. He had been meaning to test the Wonderbolt’s security, and this was a perfect chance. The guard looked at him weirdly, but let him pass. Inside he wound his way through the corridors, not sure where he was going, before a marine military-police officer found him.

Wildcard was rather pleased to have been stopped, and when he glanced back he found another MP behind him, gun in hoof. 

Equestria was learning.

“Can I help you, Director?” The MP asked.

“I decided to have a look around before she sailed, but I guess you would rather not have my unescorted self wander around. If you could take me to the Air Martial, I would be grateful,” Wildcard said.

The MP mumbled something into a radio on his shoulder, and then gestured at his comrade.

“Follow me.”

Wildcard did, and was led through a maze of corridors and staircases. He took note of what he saw on the way, and was continually impressed. They went through the cargo hold, which was loaded with enough armoured vehicles to take on a smaller country. They went past the guns, each of which which were large enough to take on a moderately sized navy on their own- and it had sixteen. Then they made their way to the middle open-air decks, and walked through the buildings that housed the crew quarters. It was an odd design, but it certainly worked. The armour was all around the lower compartments where the weapons were housed, and the crew quarters were open the air. The assumption was that if the ship was fired on, nobody would be in them anyway. It was certainly in the style of the old Night Guard, that was for sure.

The MP led him to the final building, which stood nearly six stories tall, reaching right up to the upper flight deck. It, unlike the others, most certainly was armoured. It was the ships bridge, and Wildcard noticed his tail stay at the door while the MP led him inside.

Up two staircases they went, and then they came to the command deck itself. The MP saluted, and addressed the handful of ponies in the room.

“Air Martial Spitfire, ma’am! Director Wildcard is here to see you,” he said, with a sharp salute.

Spitfire looked up from a display at the end of the room, with Twilight Sparkle standing beside her. Spitfire looked at Wildcard, and smiled. 

Spitfire, in her Wonderbolt uniform, yellow coat, and fiery hair, was one hell of an attractive pony. She had been rather friendly with him ever since Mezza Luna had been defeated as well. She had sent him a fruitcake, in fact, with a card.

“Congratulations, wish it had been me.”

There was something odd about her at the moment, but he couldn’t quite place it.

“Well, Director now! You came at good time Wildcard, take a look around!” She said, and stood on two legs with her arms apart.

“You’re standing on the single greatest machine Equestria has ever made!” She gloated, and gestured Wildcard over.

He humoured her, and she showed him to each of the stations. The first was a complex looking series of knobs, buttons, and wiring that seemed incomprehensible. A quad of television displays was buried in the wall at the end of that board, silent at the moment.

Spitfire leaned on the board, and waved a hoof over it. 

“State of the art communications management. The signal can be boosted to reach Equestria from a thousand miles away, and dozens of simultaneous connections can be maintained. We could actually route all of Equestria’s military communications through here in an emergency, but I doubt that will come to pass.” She said, and strode off to the next station.

Wildcard’s jaw however, was holding him in place. He figured out what was odd, and it was staring back at him from Spitfire’s shoulder.

She had a phoenix, an  ice  phoenix. 

Spitfire smiled back at him.

“His name is Shard, and I’m going to assume that’s what you’re staring at…” she teased.

Wildcard coughed, and quickly caught up.

“I’ve never seen anything like him, is he one of a kind?” Wildcard asked.

Twilight cleared her throat, and as soon as he looked over she assaulted him with facts. Apparently no, he was one of a great many wild phoenixes that made the North their home. It was rare for one to be beholden to a pony master, and at that it squawked angrily at her.

“Fine, a pony companion, not a master,” Twilight grumbled.

Shard stuck out his chest, and squawked his approval back at her.

Twilight rolled her eyes, and went back to whatever she was doing.

Spitfire laughed, and continued to the next station while she stroked his feathers. That station was sixteen monitors, which at the moment showed half Canterlot, half the valley below. The view from the guns, he assumed. Beside each monitor was a speaker, and before it all was a board with a set of switches and a single microphone.

Spitfire turned to him before it.

“Sixteen guns, each in itself more firepower than that frigate you’ve been given. They can all be controlled from here, and the gunnery commander can give orders to any, or all. They can connect to the radar too, but we’re having some difficulty with that at the moment…” Spitfire said.

Twilight groaned in the background, and Spitfire laughed.

“I’m sure you’ll have it ready for prime-time, Princess,” she said, and led him to the next station. 

The stations were all arranged in a circle around the commanders chair, and this one was directly to it’s right. It was a rather simple one, with a single monitor showing the flight deck, and a few dozen clipboards of flight wing statuses. A single microphone, with a simple radio board, was before all this. A Wonderbolt officer sat at the station, babbling jargon to whoever was on the other end of the line.

“Flight Control; simple but important. The officer here is in charge of organizing the coming and going of our flight wings and planes. It’s a complex job, and never really ends,” Spitfire said.

She led him past the door, to the other side of the room, and the final station on the outside. An empty chair, which sat before a wall of switches, and a map of the ship with dozens of un-lit lights all over it. Wildcard was able to guess it well enough- engineering.

“Here we have the engineering station. The chief engineer can manage the bulkheads from here, send orders below-decks, and activate fire-suppression systems. Most of the time all this is automated, but in the heat of battle it pays to have a pony at the end of everything. Knowing to pre-emptively turn on fire-suppression can save lives.” She said.

Wildcard nodded respectfully, it was wise enough.

Spitfire led him up a small step to the other two stations, which were both just ahead and below an elegant rotating chair. Twilight was working at one, with wires spewing all over the place out of a buzzing monitor, while the other sat silent. It was only a wheel, a seat, and a map- but Wildcard knew how important it was.

“And here we have helm, and radar operations,” Spitfire said, and slipped into the commanders seat.

“That map is electronic, and can be adjusted to either one kilometre per centimetre, or the entire world. Thanks to a little bit of magic, we always know we are, and where we’re going,” Spitfire said.

“What about the radar?” Wildcard asked.

Spitfire shrugged. “Broken, for now. It should be able to see targets up to 200 kilometres away, but right now it has trouble seeing Canterlot,” she said.

Twilight groaned, and looked back at the two angrily.

“This is what happens when you contract to the lowest bidder! Whoever put this together had no idea what they were doing- despite my clear instructions!” She exclaimed, and slammed the monitor.

Which then flashed, and stopped humming. Twilight turned to it, and cocked her head.

“Well… that did it,” she said.

Spitfire laughed, “You’ve been here for days, and that’s what the problem was?” 

Twilight glared back at her. “Yes, yes it was. Do you have a problem with that, Air Martial?”

Spitfire came rigidly to attention. “No ma’am! No problem! Thank you for the help!”

Twilight grinned, and closed up the monitors open panel.

“Good, I was about to send you in for a fitness evaluation,” she said, and slowly walked around to the exit.

As soon as she was gone, Spitfire released a deep sigh, and slumped in the chair.

“Princesses…” She mumbled, and then looked to Wildcard.

“So, now that you’ve had a good look, what do you think? You’ve seen more out there than I have, what’s the judgment of our honourable Changeling Duke?” She asked.

Wildcard took a slow look around, and grinned.

“It’s going to win the war,” he concluded.

Spitfire clacked her hooves together. “Good! We’ll wipe the floor with the Griffons, and then maybe we can do something about that queen of yours, eh?” She said, and winked.

Wildcard laughed, “If she saw this coming, she would probably try to sell us to south for another ten minutes of power,” he said,

Spitfire grinned, “Then we’ll take the entire south down with her,” she said.

“I suppose you must have some other reason to be here, right? You’re not the kind of pony to make personal visits,” Spitfire said.

Wildcard nodded. “That’s right, I had a few things to ask you. In private, if you please,” Wildcard said.

Spitfire slipped out of her chair, and led Wildcard into her quarters. She flicked her hat over her desk, and took a seat. Wildcard stood, and looked out the window towards the valley.

“Spitfire, how long would it take for you to get back to Equestria, from over the ocean?”

“That depends on how far out we are, but you’ve got all those reports on hoof in Canterlot, why come here to ask me that?” Spitfire asked.

Wildcard turned to her, and was watching quite keenly by both herself and that phoenix. 

“No, no I needed to ask you something I can’t officially,” He said, and took a seat across from her.

“If, Celestia help us, Trotsky starts a fight, which side will you be on?”

Spitfire glared at him, “Do you really have to ask? I would drive him into the ground, for Equestria. I don’t take kindly to my loyalty being questioned, Wildcard. I took an oath to serve the Princesses,” she said,

“A lot of ponies did, and you saw what happened. You have a great power here, and could shift things in either direction if you wanted. Hell, you could take Equestria for yourself.”

Spitfire leaned back, and allowed herself to consider it.

She shook her head, “I could, but then I would to deal with politics. Wildcard, I hate politics. Give me a battlefield and soldiers to fight, and I can handle it. You know your enemy, you fight, and the smartest one wins. Politics? Who even knows who your enemy is, and all too often the fools win because the smart ones are too busy fighting each other,” she said.

Wildcard snorted, an apt description of politics.

“That’s good to hear, but what if… the Princesses were off the table? I’m asking you if you would support First Class,” he asked.

Spitfire leaned back, and grinned at Wildcard.

“You want my public support? Did you not get the bit about politics, Wildcard? I might hate Trotsky, but unless he starts shooting- I’m out of it,” She said.

“Surely there’s something I can offer you. Perhaps if Equestria Daily were to run a story highlighting your achievements? I could have someone mention your budget should be enlarged, perhaps a shipment of vehicles for the Crystal Empire goes missing…”

Spitfire looked at him, and laughed, “oh please, if you had anything I wanted, I would have taken it,” she said.

“But if you want my word to back your wife, I’ll do it. Not for you though, just because I think Trotsky is an asshole. I’ll be over the ocean soon enough, I won’t have to deal with the avalanche of shit it’ll cause,” she said.

Wildcard laughed, “That’s all I want, it doesn’t matter to me why. I could have somebody from EQD come by later today,’ he said.

“Fine, but I’m only sticking my foot in this once. I have a war to fight, you know,” Spitfire said.

“Fair enough, and I wish you the best. We’re all counting on your work out there,” He said, and stepped out of the chair.

“Hold on now, you’re not going just yet,” Spitfire said, and reached into her desk for, what Wildcard quickly found out, was a half-filled bottle and two shot glasses.

“It’s been a while since I’ve been able to really let loose. I can’t bitch around the crew, not too much. Certainly not about royalty,” she said, and quickly filled them both.

“So indulge me, please.”

Over the next half hour, Wildcard fell quite decisively off the bandwagon. Spitfire was serving some rather high-proof cider: Atronach Springs, 40%. It had the intended effect, and the pair complained about everything from Wing Commanders (Rainbow Dash had apparently decided to pick a fight with a mare named Lightning Dust, leaving them both in the infirmary for a week), to the weather, which according to both “sucked”. Spitfire also ranted for a few minutes about how the contractors paid to work on the Magnificent had constantly screwed up. Apparently good help was hard to find in Equestria.

Once the bottle was drained, Spitfire giggled and swept it aside, leaning on the desk with her rosy-red cheeks smiling at Wildcard.

“Ya know… You look like shit,” she said, and prodded him with a hoof.

Wildcard laughed. “I know right? I’m gonna give Chrysalis a run for her money at this rate!” 

He rolled on the floor, laughing, he hadn’t felt this good in a long time.

Spitfire giggled, and reached into her desk. She stumbled out of her chair holding something, and “tripped” so as to fall on Wildcard.

Wildcard laughed, since that’s all his brain could do at this point. 

“You can…. change into anything right?” Spitfire asked, her voice suddenly flat.

“Sure… if it weighs the same! At this rate I’ll be able to disguise as Celestia next year!” He laughed, and prodded his own belly.

“What about… this?” Spitfire asked, and showed him what she had been holding.

A picture of Soarin.

Wildcard scrambled out from under her so hastily that Spitfire was sent on her back, and the picture landed on her desk. 

“What? You can’t *hic* be serious!” Wildcard sputtered, as his brain blearily tried to burst through his inebriation. Oh he wanted to, but something felt… wrong.

Spitfire rolled on her stomach, and looked at him, “Why not? I know you… want me…” she said.

Wildcard swallowed, and desperately fought his baser desires. “Of course… I do, but I can't-not like that. He’s dead Spitfire, it’s not… not right…” he managed to force out.

Spitfire sighed, and dragged herself to her hooves.

“I know he is… I just… is it so bad to want another minute?” she mumbled, and fell into her chair.

“It wouldn’t be real Spitfire, you would still have to go back to reality.” Wildcard said, and steadied himself by the door.

“I know, I know! I shouldn’t even think this, but… I would do anything, anything for another moment. Even if I know its fake, it wouldn’t… feel fake,” she said.

Wildcard felt supremely awkward, but could understand her position. If he lost First Class, to what extremes would he go for another moment with her? The answer, was any. The thought of life without here was more terrible than anything else, he couldn’t go back to that way of living. To living alone, nobody for himself but himself; it was too horrible to imagine. 

Spitfire looked up at him, “this never happened,” she stated.

Wildcard nodded, and left her to herself. The most powerful mare he had ever met, beyond even Luna or Celestia, but even she was still a pony. She had a heart- they all did. That was something Chrysalis never new, that care for others beyond oneself. These ponies felt that care though, all of them. That was worth fighting for. Spitfire, at her worst, grasping at anything to relieve her of her grief for even a moment, was better than Chrysalis had ever been. She was real, she had a soul, she felt. She would lead not for her benefit, but for others. It was this soul that enabled her to do that, and it was that same soul that made First Class so great. 

Soul. 

A word worth fighting for.

Wildcard found a shorter way out of the ship, out a berthing arm below the bridge, and groggily made his way towards his own frigate. A moderately sized frigate, one of many the Night Guard had made to complement its force. It was around fifty meters long, with a sleek black look to it that did well to hide it at night. The windows of the bridge, and others, stuck out, and shined in the daylight. It’s weaponry was relatively tame, with only a few gatling guns and a single turreted gun that could fire out of the bottom, but it was more than enough. This wasn’t a ship designed for fighting, it was a mobile command centre. It even had an area at the back for launching a wing of pegasi- although at the moment they had none. Instead that area stored a single helicopter.

Wildcard had renamed it, and this morning the dockworkers had finished the change. On the side that name, in red, was displayed for all to see. 

H.M.S Ace In The Hole

Absolutely perfect.

Wildcard strode up to the single docking arm, and was greeted by a sharp salute by the guard. 

“Director Wildcard, welcome back!” she greeted.

Wildcard attempted to meet her salute, and beaned himself in the head. She wasn’t sure what to think as he drunkenly stumbled past, but shrugged and continued her watch. The corridors were notably more tight than the Magnificent, but that also meant it was much less walking to get anywhere. His “office” had been the vessels stateroom, and was now the command centre for the home guard. As much as he would have rather worked from home, this was where he had spent a good deal of his time lately. Wildcard swung the metal door to the room open, and stumbled past his desk to a cot he kept there for when he had to work overnight. He flopped onto it, and instantly fell asleep.

When he awoke, a dozen hours later, he was fairly certain he had died at some point. The pain in his head felt as if somebody had liquified his brain and then boiled it, and now it was trying to force its way out through his eyeballs. He quickly wandered into his private bathroom, retched up a good amount of bile, and did his best to look decent for the day. At the very least nobody would think he was hungover- he looked like crap normally.

A quick wash, and a handful of painkillers later, he stumbled back into his room- and nearly jumped out of his skin to see a pony standing at the other end of the room.

His panic subsided when he recognized it as Shining Armour. He stood with a map of the continent, with the current lines of battle in the south, behind him. That was about all there was to the room, except for a rather nice desk covered with papers, some filing cabinets, and a phone beside his cot.

“Director, I’ve been waiting for you. I’ve got some information to pass along, and I need to know you’ve gotten it personally,” Shining said.

Wildcard closed the door, and walked over to him. 

“I have a feeling it’s not good news,” he said.

Shining sighed, and turned to the map. Wildcard followed his hoof, which led to the current line of battle. It had been moving north every day, and was now only thirty miles from the hive.

“It’s not looking good in the South. With the majority of our force concentrated over the ocean, the confederacy has been pushing harder and harder towards the North. I would pull some force back from the ocean front, but then we risk losing what we gained. I have to make a decision here, Director, and you’re not going to like it,” he said, and slid his hoof up to the hive.

“We’re abandoning it,” he said.

“You’re abandoning the hive?” 

Shining nodded solemnly. “We can’t hold it, and there’s no defensible positions between there and here. If we take a stand there, and lose, they’ll have a clear shot at Canterlot itself before we can regroup. Not only that, but the hive is in a valley-they could just bypass us. I’m going to order our forces to regroup at the far side of the Badlands, and get a line up there,” He said.

Wildcard sighed.

“How long?”

Shining pulled a folder from his uniform, and hoofed it to Wildcard.

“Three weeks, it’ll take some time to break everything down,” he said.

Wildcard tossed the envelope on his desk, and trotted over to it.

“Well, you’re in charge, so if it’s gotta be done, it’s gotta be done. Thanks for telling me, I’ll try and get out who I can,” he said.

“I didn’t tell you this out of kindness, Director. I did it because it’s my job, and I need something from you,” Shining said, and strode on to the other side.

Wildcard flopped into his chair, and sighed.

“Of course, and what’s that?”

“Chrysalis remains a… standing question. I need you to make sure she doesn’t do anything stupid before we get our people out. If you think she’s going to defect, or Celestia forbid try and use the refugees as hostages somehow, tell me,” he said.

Wildcard squinted at him, “Why?”

“So we can destroy her, naturally. When we fall back we’ll have a chance to burn the place down on the way out, but I wasn’t going to do it without asking you,” he said.

Wildcard sat back, and thought. Here was his chance, but there was a serious standing problem.

“Yes, she will use the refugees as hostages. If you try to abandon them, or move against her, she’ll do it. What we need to do is somehow get them out.”

“Fine, how?” Shining asked.

“Give me some time, and I’ll get back to you. If Chrysalis asks about this, tell her it’s some sort of standard rotation. That should buy you some time,” 

Shining rubbed his forehead, “three weeks, that’s all I can give you. If you haven’t found a solution by then, we’ll just have to do it live. Based on what you said, I guess “scorched earth” would be the plan,” he said.

“I’ll be blunt, Wildcard, I’ve been looking forward to bringing some cold justice to that queen of yours for quite some time,” he said, and cracked his neck.

“We’ve got something in common then,” Wildcard noted.

Shining laughed, and made his exit. When he closed the door, Wildcard opened up the envelope and took a look inside. It was a few documents, which backed up what he had said. The south was building for a major offensive, which would probably blow right through their lines as they were. He put that report to the side, and noticed that there was a new paper on his desk. It was watermarked with Luna’s crescent moon, backed by a shield. The new emblem of the Night Guard, and that most certainly meant it was important.

Wildcard flipped it over, and read. Malgavian had written this to him personally, and it was a shocking evaluation of the Manehatten and Baltimare situation. According to his intelligence they were arming themselves, with the Baltimare refugees stealing shipments that were bound south, and hiding them in the city ruins. Manehatten’s police meanwhile had been buying huge amounts of supplies from smaller weapons manufacturers that had been cut out of the larger contracts. Thousands of rifles and nearly a million rounds of ammunition.

Trotsky’s allies were arming for war.

Wildcard rubbed his forehead, and took out a bottle of painkillers from his desk. He had basically been living off them for the last week or so, but there was no time for worrying about that now. Whatever was wrong with him, it had to wait.

Probably just the flu anyway. Wildcard took a handful of the pills, and shoved them down his throat. A few moments later some relief flowed to his head, and he stood up again. He left his uniform on the chair, and strode back out of his office. He would have to work quickly now if he was going to avert violence, but he had come up with a hell of a plan. He left his ship, and the docks, and donned a new form.

He walked off into the city streets as Velvet Glove, and even remembered her cutie mark. That mark, of a thematically suitable velvet glove, marked her purple flank. Her mane was gold, and hopefully Trotsky wouldn’t notice she had put on a few pounds.

The real one was in a “holding area” near Ponyville. Put more aptly- a cave. Silver had picked her up after one of the protests. Thankfully Trotsky hadn’t noticed yet, the two often separated for days or weeks on end. He was a business pony after all, and she was a career rabble-rouser. According to her history, she never stayed anywhere, or with anyone, for long. Born on a rock farm, she had abandoned her family and left for the city of Vanhoover. There she had fallen into a group of anarchists, and had been raising hell ever since then. She, apparently, met Trotsky during a protest. They had been together, in a sense, ever since then.

Trotsky lived in the political quarter, and Wildcard hoped to either find him there, or somebody that could lead him- her- to where he was. 

The residence was rather grand, and had avoided the worst of the damage from a few weeks ago. It was an old building, built during the last major expansion of Canterlot 200 years ago. An elegant stone facade, with arched windows, stood facing the street. It stood three stories tall, and was surely equally as deep.

Wildcard knocked on the door, and spared a glance at his flank to ensure he was well disguised.

A pony opened the door, and looked him over. He didn’t recognize the while coated unicorn, but that didn’t matter.

“Velvet Glove! He’s been looking for you. Actually, he’s been a little worried,” The stallion said, and led her inside.

“Good, he should worry. I’m one of a kind you know, he would do well to respect me,” Wildcard said, and brushed past the doorpony.

He entered into an incredibly elegant lobby, with a marble floor and enormous chandelier above, while two staircases sloped around the far sides of the room upwards. A pony stood under it, and stood on two legs with arms wide as he entered.

“Velvet!” He shouted happily. 

It was, of course, Trotsky. He wore a red suit with golden lace, which went perfectly with his yellow coat. His brown mane shined, he had obviously spent some time with it.

Wildcard strode forward, smiling, and allowed him to embrace him- her- self. From now on, until his mission was done, he would be Velvet Glove. She nuzzled him gently, and fluttered her eyes as she looked up to him.

“I always come back, you know that,” she said softly.

Trotsky ran a hoof through her mane, and guided her to the window. He looked over the street, and pointed out there.

“You and me, Velvet, we’re gonna change the world,” he said.

Not if I can help it.
 	
	
> False Flags III
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Wildcard spent the rest of that day disguised as Velvet Glove, as Trotsky breathlessly explained his recent exploits, having moved the conversation into a small study. He had been going far and wide, gathering a force of "fellow free thinkers". This friday he would put this to the test, for a mass protest to coincide with a speech by the mayor of Ponyville. Wildcard got an idea from that, and grinned at the thought. 

That protest would be Trotsky's last. 

Trotsky paused, and noticed his smirk, “Do you see it as I do? That town has known peace and plenty for so long, while others have starved. I’m going to make them pay for their gluttony, I’m going to make sure they can never sleep again. Remember Baltimare, Velvet. Remember how innocent we were, and how thoroughly we paid for it. Remember Manehatten, and remember everypony we've lost. I'll see justice done for them, justice for them all,” he said, and suddenly turned away.

“That is a story for another day, however. I’ve had your regular room prepared and waiting for you, and I do hope this time you’ll stay,” he said, and glanced back.

“Perhaps… permanently?” 

Wildcard fluttered his eyes at his host, “perhaps, perhaps not. I’m starting to grow fond of you, Trotsky. You know what you want, and you have the means to get it. I find that attractive in a stallion.”

“Oh I will take it, just you watch. With you at my side, we’ll rule this country. Finally, leadership with a vision! Leadership that won't let innocent ponies die while they sit on a golden throne!” he shouted.

“My vision!” Trotsky shouted, and then clutched his head, "Ugh, I need to save that for the rallies."

"A vision we can all look up to..." Wildcard said, and nuzzled Trotsky's mane, "I'll see you in the morning."

Trotsky nodded distractedly, and pulled a bottle of painkillers out of his desk. Wildcard thought nothing of it- he had a similar bottle- and disappeared out into the hallway, and started to explore the household.The estate was vast, but nearly every room was locked, and the doors were incredibly dusty. The carpeted corridors were mirrored on each of the four levels, about ten rooms deep. It seemed to have once held a great family, but now the only tenant was a crazed aristocrat and his few servants. Eventually, in the upper levels, Wildcard found an unlocked door. He opened it, and apparently found his room. Posters preaching revolution and obscure musical groups lined the walls, contrasting heavily with the gilded golden bedposts and posh carpet floor. A side door led to a bathroom that could probably house a family, and a closet full of elegant dresses could probably have clothed it. 

Wildcard shut the door, and with a sigh of relief, lowered his form. He had been holding it for quite some time, but not nearly as long as his record. There were ways to keep a disguise semi-permanently without much effort as well, but that required a serious intake of magical energy. There were several ways of doing this, the most obvious of which he really hoped to not  use. He shuddered at the thought, and suddenly felt unclean. So he decided to have a nice warm bath, and soaked himself for a while before flopping down on the bed. He locked the door telekinetically, and drew the curtains before allowing himself to sleep. It hadn’t been a very long day, but he was certainly tired. Quite tired, moreso than he had any reason to be.

Perhaps it was the weather.

After a dreamless sleep, he awoke, and groggily pulled himself out of bed to find it was still in the late night. Returning to Velvet’s form, and covering himself in a night gown, he decided it was time for some sleuthing. Perhaps he could find documentation of some serious crime, or better yet a connection with Mezza Luna. So he returned to Trotsky’s study, and quietly began to search through the room. To the side of a large desk was a long bookcase, which was mostly loaded with political treatise and books on rhetoric. There was also a collection of poetry, with one of the books very, very, worn. Wildcard pulled it out, curious.

“Elementa Trotsky: A compilation.”

Wildcard hadn’t done any research into Trotsky’s family history, which he realized had been an error. He should have known that ponies that well educated don’t just appear out of thin air- he must be part of a long line. Odd then, that he was so alone. Wildcard opened the book, and on the first page was a dedication. 

Further odd was his apparent dropping of his first name, perhaps it was pride.

“To my son, Adamas. May you forever know the peace I did.” 

Wildcard turned the first page to a simple poem.

“Fly fly, my earth son. Even with no wings your spirit knows no bounds, even with no magic your mind knows no limit. Make for the sky, my son, you deserve no less.” 

He shut the book and put it back. This was painting a strange picture, but that wasn’t what he was here for. The desk was his next goal, and he rummaged through the drawers for anything incrimination. The top drawer was filled with financial reports, and other than a little bit of semi-legal accounting, there was nothing serious there. The second drawer yielded better results, and Wildcard keenly read through what appeared to be a series of factory transfers. The corporations listed he had never heard of, yet had bought enough ammunition and steel for a good sized army. If these corporations were, as he suspected, fronts for Mezza Luna’s Night Guard…

Wildcard smiled, and pocketed the documents. He looked through the third drawer as well, and to his absolute delight found what was apparently a personal journal of Trotsky’s. He read it eagerly, but found he was apparently too smart to leave anything openly incriminating. Flipping through at random however, he found a seeming disconnected between his writing recently, and long ago. His writing now was full of vitriol and errant, constantly raging at the Princesses; but only months ago it was more focused, and only concerned with business affairs. Wildcard hunted down the point of crossing, and landed in early August. That entry he had to sit down to read, and finally understood.

“Today, the griffons came. I barely escaped with my life, but I was separated from the rest. I assume they’ll be fine, but all this running has made me tired, and I think I’ll await them in Canterlot. What frightens me more is what I’m hearing about Manehatten, apparently there was some sort of attack, and the damage is catastrophic. Mother and father are there, I fear for a world without their guiding hand. I can’t take over everything, I can barely keep the factories steady! I have faith in Celestia though, she saved us in Baltimare after all. We lost our city, but we kept our lives. It was kind of her to allow us to move to Manehatten.”

There was a break in the document, as if somebody had come in and he had stopped written all of a sudden, and then started again. It was nearly scribbled, it was so rushed and seemed almost hammered into the paper.

“God is dead. My parents, my sister, they are all gone. Celestia let them die, she let them die and did nothing. She started this war, through her own folly! I can see it now, she sacrificed Baltimare just to give her chosen people another few days of peace, and now she has given Manehatten up for more of the same! God is dead, and we must fight for ourselves.”

Wildcard shut the journal, and slipped it back into its place. It all came together then, and  he really understood what he was dealing with. Trotsky was a pony with nothing to lose, and revenge on his mind. This was even worse than he thought. Power was one thing, but a rational person after power isn't suicidal. A man after revenge isn't rational. Wildcard made sure everything was as it was before, and then left with the stolen documents. He made his way back to his room, and stowed them under his mattress. The sun would be up soon enough, and he took the extra time to make a call. Silver was on the other end, and answered immediately.

Wildcard ordered that a rifle be placed in a room with a good view of the Ponyville town hall, and for that room to be littered with Trotskyist propaganda. He had a plan, and had one week to ensure it was successful. 

Trotsky arrived later, with breakfast. Wildcard couldn’t help but feel charmed that he brought it himself, but he was a stallion underneath his cover- he knew what the end game was here.  Nevertheless he wasn’t going to let a free breakfast go to waste, and happily filled his belly while Trotsky rambled on about his plans for the day. Today he was going to give a speech in a beer-hall, which should prove interesting. When he left, Wildcard dressed himself in the most attractive dress he could find- something he was sure to accentuate the curves of “her” rear, and met Trotsky in the lobby.

Trotsky looked him over, and Wildcard felt a surge of energy flow out of the stallion. He was in love, deeply in love.

So he was vulnerable. Wildcard drank enough of this energy for the day, and smiled at his host, who suddenly reached for his forehead, and grimaced with pain.

Wildcard, afraid he had somehow taken too much, quickly came to his side and kept him steady.

“Trotsky? Are you alright?” He asked.

Trotsky nodded weakly, “It’s… just another migraine,” he said, and reached in his jacket pocket for a familiar bottle of painkillers.

He swallowed a hoof-full, and sighed with relief. “I’ll be fine, just as long as you’re by my side,” he said, and kissed his love on the cheek.

Wildcard pulled him down and planted on the lips, perfectly timed, “I wouldn’t dare leave,” he whispered.

They left the Trotsky estate with arms intertwined, and a pair of armed guards took their flanks as they strode off to wherever this place he was going to be speaking at was. 

____

While Wildcard spent the day by Trotsky’s side, doing what was expected of “her”- look good, his wife was busy with actual work. She had received a note from the mayor, and arrived at her home with her thestral guard in tow. The ponies ambling outside immediately parted, and allowed Head of State First Class to stride through them to the house, holding her head high. The soldiers standing guard outside- an unfortunate part of life in war-time- saluted at her.

“Minister!” they spoke at once.

“At ease soldiers, I’m just here to speak with the mayor. Is she in?” she asked.

The two soldiers glanced at each other, as if fighting a telepathic war over who was going to speak next. The smaller one, to the left of the door, apparently lost. He cleared his throat, and couldn’t help but stare at the thestrals.

“Well get on with it you two, they need more soldiers down south you know,” First Class smirked.

“She’sillandcan’tseeanybody!” the soldier squeaked.

“What?” 

“She is ill, and can’t see anybody,” he repeated.

First Class shook her head, “Like hell she is,” and moved for the door. 

They clacked their pikes together to block her, which began to shake when her thestral guards drew their own arms. 

“If you wish to continue breathing, get out of my way,” First Class growled.

“Oh buck this, Mayor Mare doesn’t sign our paycheques,” the shorter guard said, and removed his pike.

The other followed suit.

“That’s what I like to see,” First Class said, and pushed the door open. Her guards stayed outside, and she entered the house. It was a cozy enough home, decorated with furniture and rugs that probably went back generations. A grandfather clock, probably as old as the town itself, chimed three times. First Class took a closer look at it, and then heard a sniffle from the room over. 

First Class sighed, and trotted over, “We’re at war, and she’s held down by a cold?” she muttered, and strode into a room with only a fireplace, and a few dozen sitting pillows. The mayor, and a doctor, sat before the warmth of the fire.

“… a weeks bed-rest, and you’re not to see anypony for four weeks. I won’t have the entire town out of work- I’ll get a house arrest order if I have to,” the doctor said, while First Class watched curiously.

“I… *sniff*… understand.”

“Good, you’ll be fine. Pony flu is contagious as can be, but it’ll just knock you out for a few weeks,” the doctor said, and stood up. 

“Pony flu?” First Class asked?

Mayor Mare, and the doctor, both shot up in surprise.

“M… minister of state?” Mayor Mare asked, “how did you get in *sniff* in here?”

First Class smiled. “I go where I want, Miss Mare. Now, what’s this about the pony flu?” 

The doctor strode over, and glared at her. “It’s a rather contagious virus, and you’ve just broken quarantine! I told those guards not to let anypony in! Dammit, you politicians don’t have any respect for medicine, do you?” he ranted.

First Class glared back. “I was unaware of any quarantine. Now, you are sure the mayor is ill enough to be confined to her bed? She asked?”

The doctor nodded, “quite, but more pressing is the risk of a pandemic. We can’t risk the loss of working days, not now.” 

First Class sighed, “agreed, but somebody has to speak Friday, it’s an important tradition around here,” she said.

“I guess it’ll be me.”

_____

For the next few days Wildcard kept by Trotsky’s side, and continued his seduction. Every day the stallions love grew, and every day Wildcard escalated in turn. He also continued his search into Trotsky’s life, and discovered that the stallion was nearly bankrupt. His families fortune had utterly disintegrated over the last few months, as he spent all their wealth in order to purchase the factories that gave him his political sway now. Said factories were already locked into government contracts, and by the end of the year he would have to start selling them off again to keep food on the table. He had gone all in, and was trying to bluff the other players. 

Nonetheless, he was a threat. Whatever his reasons, whatever his history, and whatever it took, Wildcard would ruin him. If he was as desperate as he seemed, then that only spurred Wildcard into driving his plans forward to counter it. That Friday, after spending a night together with him for the first time, they came to Ponyville. Trotsky brought his finest with him- a group of anarchists from all over the country. Wildcard had argued for him to arm them all, "just in case."

Ponies will go to extreme lengths for love, and Wildcard knew that as he assembled his rifle, in a room of a book depository across from the Ponyville town hall. With a loud click, he inserted the magazine, and then set the gun on the windowsill to steady his aim. Looking through the scope past the crowd of ponies, to the empty stage, he slowly zeroed in his target, and waited. Trotsky was holding a protest across town simultaneously, while Velvet Glove had disappeared to “take care of something.”

Wildcard waited, his hoof on the trigger, to do exactly that. He waited, and breathed calmly as the sound of the protest grew from the distance. It was timed so that he would be passing by the town hall when the mayor took the stage, and was hoping to prod the townspeople into a fight. 

Out of the corner of his scope, just as the sound grew to a crescendo, a blurry figure stepped up on the stage. Wildcard’s heart stopped, as did the sound of the crowd, as he saw his own wife take centre stage with two thestrals at her side.

There was silence.

There was a single gunshot.

There was chaos.
> False Flags IV
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Wildcard quickly disassembled the rifle, with the flair of a seasoned professional. He had practiced this procedure in his training, although he hadn't expected to need it in practice so quickly. Even while chaos exploded outside, and gunshots rang through the air alongside screams, he was calm. He was terrified, as anypony would be at the moment, but he was calm. Everything had been arranged just so, days ago, and now he only needed to survive through them. His shot had been taken by the anarchists as a sign "it was time", and they had gone to work.

Now he only needed to get out of Ponyville.

The sound of heavy hoof steps sounded outside, a half dozen armed ponies heading up to his position. Wildcard had just finished packing up when they broke down the door, and a squad of thestrals charged in with weapons drawn. 

They saw Velvet Glove, and a rifle case, on the floor before them. The conclusion was obvious, and they trained their weapons on her. The largest, with a scar over one eye and ancient pit marked armour, had only a small pistol to go with his comrades rifles. 

“Hooves in the air! Against the wall!” One of them shouted towards him.

Wildcard didn’t have time to do as ordered before two others tackled him, and drove his head up against the brick wall of the room. They weren’t playing nice, which was certainly to be expected considering what he just did.

“Shooter secured, moving to extraction,” their leader spoke into a radio, and then led the group out.

Two of them pulled Wildcard along, gripping his legs tightly. Two more stayed behind, so close that their rifles constantly tapped the back of their head. The leader was constantly getting orders, but the noise from outside drowned out his replies. It was not going well out there, apparently.

“Sixth street is blocked, we’ll have to go around to seventh. Keep her tight- I’m not going to have some goddamn vigilante buck this up!” The lead thestral said, and halted his group just before the exit of the book depository.

Smoke wafted in from outside, and a police officer ran past, dodging a barrage of rocks thrown his way. 

“Guns ready, let’s go!” The lead ordered, and barreled into the street. The rest pulled Wildcard along, and Wildcard entered into the chaotic streets of Ponyville.

Pony against pony, in a dramatic free-for-all. Everywhere he looked, was violence. Gunfire echoed from every direction, and the air-raid sirens blared in the background for whatever good that might do. Here and their police officers were doing their damnedest, but the situation was leagues beyond them. Wildcard lit the match, and now the keg had exploded. Ponies sheltered behind overturned carts, but the anarchists didn't care who they fought, and civilians were forced to protect themselves with whatever they could find. A father looked at him, from behind an applecart, with his children huddled around him. He had only a service rifle her had somehow gotten to protect them, and the thestrals had no time to help.

A shot rang out, and dust shot into Wildcard’s face from in front of them. 

“Shooter on the roof!” the lead thestral shouted, and drove the group against the closest wall.

He shot back from under a small overhang, as the group huddled together outside the door to a barber shop. Across the street somepony was shooting at them, and the thestrals were firing back. 

“That’s her, that’s who did it!” 

The ponies in the street, busy with their own squabbles, paused for a second. 

Somewhere, something exploded, and a wave of smoke washed down the street. One of the thestrals kicked the door behind them open, and the group moved inside. Two of them moved to cover the window, and Wildcard was tossed on the ground.

“You move, you die!” The lead thestral shouted, and took a position beside the door. 

Wildcard wasn’t stupid, and did as asked. His life lied with these thestrals now, hopefully Malgavian’s best were up to the task.

“What do we have?” He ordered his men.

“Two shooters, one on the roof and one shooting from a window- second on the right!” 

The thestral that said that stuck up his head to look from the window, and then crack of another gunshot sounded out, and a second later the thestral’s head was thrown back, and he collapsed to the ground. His comrade fired in return, and Wildcard saw a pony fall off the roof across the street.

“God damnit, this situation is totally out of hoof. Didn’t we have an alicorn backing us up?” the leader said.

“I’m sure the Princess of Friendship has more import-“ 

The thestral replying was shut up when a bullet whizzed past his face, and impacted just inches away from Wildcard’s head. He fired in reply, and it found the mark.

“We’re clear, let’s go!” 

The lead thestral scooped up Wildcard, and threw him on his armoured back. The armour cut into him and bruised his chest, but he bore it as the group ran back into the street. Gunfire greeted them at random, and they fired in return.

“Buck this, run!” The lead shouted, and galloped forward into the smokey street. They blew past overturned carts and surprised police, but everypony thankfully seemed too busy with their own private struggles to care. 

A gunshot from the blue struck one of the thestrals, but he only grimaced, and fired a return shot right between the shooters eyes. It would be the last person that tried to shoot them, because they quickly leapt over a small barricade, and into a clearing around where a dozen more thestrals had taken positions with heavy guns. In the centre a helicopter waited, its fuselage emblazoned with the crest of the new Night Guard. It's engine was on, and it blew snow around revealing the still green grass beneath.

“Sledge secure, move out and pacify the town!” The lead thestral shouted, and his group broke off, as he continued to the helicopter.

He shrugged off Wildcard, who hit the ground painfully, and then threw him into the back. Another set of hooves grabbed him, and quickly shoved him down into a seat, and then slammed a pair of hoof cuffs that secured him to the arm rest.

The two guards opposite him kept their rifles trained on him even as the helicopter took off, and from the air Wildcard got a look at Ponyville. Dozens of fires spewed smoke out into the sky, and the crack of random gunfire persisted even when they got to height.

Wildcard looked away from it, and at the thestral opposite him. That pony smirked, and the sun gleamed off a golden tooth.

“Girl, you’re in for a world ‘a hurt.”

____

Doctor Colgate, having happened to be in Ponyville at the time, found herself at the head of a triage centre that made the Town Hall its home. It was utter chaos outside, and it seemed almost like the war had come home. Gunfire, screams, and the odd explosion or whistle of a flare broke into the air, but the really horrific noise was those of the dead and dying around her. Those ponies that Trotsky had brought were not good people, and they had torn through the crowd as soon as “it” started. Colgate could only hope that the police could get things under control eventually.

The two soldiers guarding the door, shaking with fear, didn’t buoy her hopes much.

Colgate continued fighting for the pony on the table before her. She had taken one to the gut, and was only barely holding onto life. The sniper had been evilly specific in where he put his shot. Right in the gut, maximum pain and minimal chance to survive. Colgate fought desperately, but the internal wounds were simply too severe. After a few minutes working, the poor thestral closed her eyes for good.

Colgate sighed, and snapped off her bloody gloves. 

“Trotsky will hang for this.” 

_____

Hours later the situation in Ponyville had calmed down enough that the regular police were able to take over from the thestrals, who had lost no less than a dozen of their number in street battles. The police fared no better, and would be short hoofed for months. Ponyville was a war zone, and not a single building had come out unscathed. Night Guard helicopters hovered overhead tracking down any loitering ponies, and as the sun fell their lights kept the city lit as if it never had. Throughout the long night the riotous militia that Trotsky had brought in continued attacking at random, with the odd gunshot ringing out well into the next morning. Dozens more had tried to run, and were stopped by checkpoints set up outside the city. Trotsky himself had vanished, and that morning Queen Luna made an announcement.

“… the crimes of this pony cannot be understated. I have received proof that he has conspired with Mezza Luna in the past, and it is probably that he thinks as she did. He seeks to tear down our peaceful and just society, and establish his own in its place. To that I say: no! I will not give into the terrorist actions of a single evil pony! I will hunt him to the ends of this earth, and to that effect I am offering a two million bit reward for any information that leads to the arrest of this heinous villain! We stand together with Ponyville, we stand together as ponies! Together, we will move fearlessly as one, and shrug aside this callous acts!…”

Bold words indeed, which Wildcard heard from a radio near his cell. He had been flown to Canterlot, and now he made a cell in the mountain his home. The Night Guard had spent all night interrogating him, and he gave them exactly what they both wanted.

“Trotsky planned it, Trotsky ordered it. He told be if I succeeded that the entire populace would rise up at once and smash the state. He’s still out there, and he’ll be back! We will tear down this unjust monarchy, justice will be done!” 

This had been met with a rifle-butt to the face, and Wildcard rubbed his sore cheek. He had everything he wanted, and now he only needed to wait for events to conclude.

Outside he heard hoofsteps, and the jingle of keys. Wildcard shot up, and pooled his remaining energy into keeping his disguise up. Just as he expected, a cloaked figure approached the cell, and stuck a key into the door.

“Let’s go, Velvet. I’ve got transport to the southern states, we’ll be safe there,” Trotsky said, and dropped the hood of his cloak.

He smiled warmly at the one he loved so much, and put a hoof around her shoulder. 

“That was stupid of you, incredibly stupid. I lost everything I tried to build today, but maybe it’s for the best. We can move to the south, you and I. Settle down, build a family,” he said, and gripped her tightly.

“It’ll all be okay.”

Wildcard sighed, and felt up Trotsky’s leg. The stallion coughed, and then looked at her bemusedly.

“I’m sure that can w-“ 

He stared at his partner in shock, as he found himself suddenly facing the business end of his own handgun.

“I’m really sorry about this, but you knew the rules of the game,” Wildcard said, and backed off enough to be able to get a shot off if he lunged.

“What… game? You didn’t make a deal with the government did you? They’re lying!” Trotsky accused, and stared at her with a look of astonishment. 

“No, no I don’t think we are. We…”

Trotsky began to hyperventilate, and lost his footing. He sagged against the iron bars of Wildcard’s cage, and tears streamed down his face as he looked at him.

“Velvet, don’t do this! I love you, come with me to the south!” he pleaded.

Wildcard dropped his disguise, and Trotsky fell to the floor.

“W…what?” 

Silver Shield, and two other changelings, appeared in the hall behind Trotsky. They were carrying the real Velvet Glove between them, and stepped past the devastated stallion into her cell. 

“You… you did this? A lie? All of it?” Trotsky babbled.

Silver dumped Velvet into the cell, and strode out to meet Wildcard. He tossed him an officers uniform, and took a look at Trotsky.

“Damn, I expected him to be…”

Trotsky leaned against the bars, sobbing and mumbling incoherently to himself.

“… taller.”

Wildcard dropped the handgun, and stepped over Trotsky. He reached out, and grabbed Wildcard by his leg.

Wildcard looked back, and Trotsky looked up at him with tear-filled eyes. 

“Why?”

Wildcard tore back his leg, and Trotsky sprawled out on the floor. He gestured Silver to leave, and he took his two changelings back down the hallway with him.

“You played your hand, but you never thought I could see it did you? I’ve been on you the entire week, and I planned this whole thing. I meant to destroy you Trotsky, and now look at you. Your factories are nationalized, your love is fake, and your fortune is gone. You’ll be hanged before the sun rises tomorrow, and even your love was fake. You picked a fight with the wrong person, Trotsky,” Wildcard said.

“You?”

“My wife.”

Wildcard watched him slowly tumble through events in his mind, and then he weakly came to his hooves. He leapt for his gun, and slid around to point it at Wildcard.

“You’ll get one shot off before the guards are on you,” Wildcard said, and strode forward so that the gun touched his chest.

“Are you sure you want to waste it on me?” 

Trotsky trembled, and then dropped the gun. It clattered on the ground, and was followed by him breaking down into tears. Wildcard left him there, and adjusted his new uniform before trotting down the hallway. There were alarm panels everywhere, and Wildcard tripped the nearest. The alarm went off, and he slipped down a side corridor past some guards hurrying to the source. He met Silver a short while later, and was led to a waiting airship that would take him to Ponyville. 

“Man, you look like shit,” Silver said to him as they boarded.

____

Wildcard arrived at his home a few hours earlier, and entered to find his wife exactly where he expected. She was laying beside the fire, pondering things that were beyond him, only a bandage on her arm to remind him of what had happened. 

He had aimed for the thestral beside her, but the bullet had ricocheted, and hit her in the arm.  She would be fine though, if not able to trot for a few days.

“You’re back,” First Class said, continuing to stare into the fire.

“I am,” Wildcard said.

He trotted towards her, but she stuck up a hoof to stop him.

“I know it was you,” she said.

“I gathered as much, I know you’re not stupid. I just hope you can understand why. I couldn’t let him hurt you,” Wildcard returned.

“Wildcard, do you have any idea how much this hurts me? I have to decide what I value more-you or more my own morals. What you did was evil, and I should want you brought to justice for it. I don’t though, I really don’t. I still love you just the same, and that made me think. I’m not a good person, Wildcard,” She said, and stood up to face him.

“What?”

“What kind of a good person could look you in the eye after what you’ve done? What kind of a good person could still love you after the evil you inflicted on this city, and the innocent lives that will go to the gallows tomorrow for it? You did these evil actions for me, and I let you. You can’t be evil unless I am evil, or else I couldn’t love you. So, I had to face that. I am not a good person Wildcard, that is what you’ve made me realize.”

“First…”

“No, Wildcard, no argument. You’ve killed people, you’ve betrayed people, and you’ve corrupted the minds of dozens for your own purposes. You did this all for me though, and you wouldn’t have done it were I not so in love with you, and you with me. So I’ll live with it, Wildcard, I’ll bear a guilty conscious because that’s what it takes to love you. I’ll live with it. I am just a guilty of these crimes as you are, and the worst part?”

Wildcard was silent.

“I would have done them myself.”

First Class strode past him, and up the stairs to their room. Wildcard just stood there, trying to digest what had happened. 

He had expected a lecture on what justice was, or tearful accusations. What he had just seen was anything but that, and the real effect of his crimes began to dawn on him. Trotsky be damned, but Wildcard hadn't considered what it would do to First Class. He hadn't just destroyed him, he had destroyed her. 

Wildcard was horrified. 

The next morning, a few hours before sunrise, two ponies were led to a wood platform in a small square inside the Canterlot Mountain. Luna stood across from the platform, surrounded by dozens of thestrals, all armed with ancient weaponry. Two led Trotsky and Velvet Glove- who had spent the last few hours protesting she had no idea what was happening- to the gallows. 

Trotsky felt oddly calm, and didn’t even seem to hear Luna’s speech. Everything was a blur, almost as if time was moving at a different pace, as if it was slower. He felt numb, and was calm, even as the thestral tightened the noose around him. He extended a hoof to his side, and turned to Velvet Glove beside him. Luna finished her speech, and reality came back into focus.

For the first time in months, his head wasn’t filled with pain.

“Did I ever tell you I love you?” Trotsky asked.

“You did?” Velvet returned.

The last words they ever spoke.
	
> Truth
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------




 The most important day of a stallions life is the day he meets himself. Today, I met myself. Today, I killed myself. Today, I strode past myself without the burden of who I was.


-House of Wildcard.


Canterlot Hospital: The foremost medical research institution on the planet, and at present possibly the busiest place as well. It was one of few buildings spared any major destruction in the attack on Canterlo- not even Mezza Luna had wanted to risk such a valuable asset. 

Granted, she did try to gas the entire city a week ago, but that was all in the past. She was dead, and now Equestria could move on. 

Wildcard waited with his wife, First Class, outside one of the many, many, doctors offices on the highest floor of the building. Wildcard was feeling ill, and his wife was due for a checkup anyway- so they had come together. Their doctor was a pony they both knew, although he had been “demoted” to the level of general practice.

Dr. Flankenstein GP307, as written on the door, was dealing with a patient inside. Not even the wealthy, or powerful, got to skip the line in Equestria. Wildcard read through a few Home Guard reports to pass the time, and his wife stared idly into space.

Wildcard had been busy for the past few weeks, but found himself seemingly sapped of energy. The Home Guard had dozens of threats to contain, investigate, or arrest- and he had been forced to put most of the responsibility on those below him. Silver Shield picked up some of the slack, but he wasn’t nearly as good as Wildcard. His standard protocol seemed to be arrest first, and question later, which tended to turn some heads when you arrested the mayor of Ponyville on treason charges.

First Class had done her own thing, and only rarely did they meet. When they did, it was either to silence, or to the practical matters of their work. Wildcard found he simply couldn't look her in the eye without feebly apologizing, and always to the same response.

"It isn't your fault. If I had been stronger, you wouldn't have had to do what you did. I was weak, but no more."

Wildcard flipped through the reports. Dozens of people were accusing dozens of others of treason, and nearly every time it was simply somebody trying to abuse the system to fulfill a grudge. Now and then though, the charges were true. The ponies were starting to get scared, and a few of them had been sending reports through Griffon agents, as of yet unknown, back to the Home Islands. There appeared to be a network of them all throughout Equestria, but thankfully nothing of serious importance had yet been leaked.

Yet.

It was a major problem, if they got hold of their defense strategy (Pray they don’t break through the coast), or their force deployments, they could take advantage of their strategic holes. Lives would be lost, and the war could turn.

They had yet to get any real intelligence from the Griffons too, since they seemed to take a “never surrender” protocol rather seriously. Their warriors would rush the lines when close to defeat, and force the Marines to put them down. Dozens of islands fell, but not a single prisoner was ever taken. The Saddle Arabians had given them weapons and vehicles, but only one of their advisors had ever been captured. He had managed to slip away during the Slaughter of Canterlot, and went to ground. That horse was the number one most wanted person in Equestria, but he had probably already escaped through the independent states. 

The war was, in essence, stuck. They advanced, but so slowly that it would take years to even reach the Griffon Home Islands. The enemy fell back, but was bleeding them dry in doing so. The Crystal Empire had added themselves to the fight, but their rapid advance had been halted and pushed right back to the coast.  Their only real hope now was to out-engineer them, and use the technological and industrial advantage they had to its utmost. That would take time though, and the factories were only just starting to produce vehicles like the Saddle Arabians had. 

They, of course, already had them. They knew how to use them too, and had been hardened in battle with their machines. Machines which, in the south, inched closer to Equestria day by day. They were coming, it was just a matter of time. In only a matter of days Shining Armour would give the final order to abandon the hive, and Wildcard had given the go-ahead to burn everything on the way out. There didn't seem to be any other choice, and he could barely stay awake these days never mind plan and lead a coup. At the very least Spitfire had delayed her exit, and would be on hand to shadow the operation.

Wildcard sighed, and then coughed. His coughing continued for quite some time, while his wife watched worriedly.

“Are you alright?”

Wildcard gasped, and managed to catch his breath.

“Yeah, yeah I’m alright. It’ll take more than a cough to take me out,” He said, and smiled weakly at her.

She frowned back, “Those sound like fated last words,” 

Wildcard kissed her on the forehead, and held her shoulders, “I’m fine, really.”

They stared into each others eyes, and their love was visible in the faint green glow emanating from the husband. It held them together even despite their differences, but neither knew yet how to properly reconcile them.  The door opened while they were locked in embrace, and Flankenstein's patient, with a thousand-yard stare, ambled on down the hall.

“Next!”

Wildcard was first, so he got up. First Class grabbed his arm when he did, and looked sullenly into his eyes.

Wildcard swallowed his fear, and walked into Flankenstein's office. A regular GP office, with a bed covered by a thin disposable sheet of paper, basic diagnosis equipment, and a desk for the doctor. A dozen medical textbooks were lined up on it, and a clipboard with chicken-scratch scrawled on it lay atop. Wildcard took a glance at it, and then sat on the bed.

“Patient believes self to be a changeling, however she quite clearly isn’t- as confirmed by a blood test. Upon further analysis a partial-horn was found buried in the skull, and had been casting magic without control. Apparently the patient had read a spell-book on shapeshifting recently, and thus the… discovery.  Patient has been referred to surgery for immediate operation. Sadly, it doesn't appear that the magic can be controlled- there simply isn't enough horn. ”

Flankenstein shook his hooves dry, and then turned to greet his new patient. He grinned nearly ear to ear, and hugged his old friend.

“Wildcard, you shapeshifting son of Luna, it’s been too long!” He exclaimed, and then pulled back hurriedly as the hug sent Wildcard into a new fit of coughing.

“You don’t look too good,” Frankenstein said, and reached for a pen-light.

“I don’t feel good either. I’ve never been the most handsome of ponies, but something is up doc.”

Flankenstein nodded, and shined the light into Wildcard’s eyes, and then examined the side of his head and ears.

“Grey hair? That’s… how old are you?” Frankenstein asked, and backed away to look Wildcard over completely.

“Thirty.”

Flankenstein reached back, and jabbed Wildcard in the arm with a needle. Wildcard didn’t even feel it pull out some of his blood, which disturbed him greatly.

“Well, its green.” Flankestein said, peering at the vial, “but that’s normal, for you anyway,” he said, and dropped the vial on his desk.

He reached for one the textbooks, and turned it to a page somewhere in the middle. It was some sort of chart, near as Wildcard could tell, and then Flankenstein levitated the vial into the air. It bubbled with magic, and then turned a shade of blue.

“Oh dear,” he said, and turned back to Wildcard.

“You’re forty, Wildcard. I did this test on your blood months ago, so I know it’s not just your changeling blood. You’ve aged ten years in the last five months.”

Wildcard was, at this point, utterly terrified. That special sort of fear one gets when a doctor looks at them and isn’t looking at a person, but a scientific problem. 

“Tell me, Wildcard, what’s the average age of your people?” Flankenstein asked, and began writing on his clipboard as he inspected the changeling thoroughly.

“Twenty, I guess? We mostly end up dying in the field by the time we…”

Wildcard slumped, he figured it out.

“The time you what?”

“We hit thirty.”

Flankenstein came to the same conclusion, and put down the clip board.

“Sweet Celestia, she gave you a kill switch.”

While Wildcard receded into his mind, as despair overtook him, Flankenstein made a few frantic calls. Tests, all sorts of tests, were scheduled. X-rays, for whatever good that might do, and more blood tests. Flankenstein thought if he could figure out how the kill-switch programmed into the changeling worked, he could stop it.

Wildcard gave up. If there was one thing in the world you couldn’t beat, it was genetics. He was tired, he was sore, and he slowly slipped to sleep on the bed. The last thing he felt was Flankenstein trying to wake him up.

He didn’t want to.

First Class had been outside, knocking on the door. When she heard the PA call for an emergency team to Room 307, she kicked it down. Inside the room Flankenstein was busy giving Wildcard a heavy dose of something, with one hoof injecting him while the other was placed on his neck. He looked panicked.

There is nothing that can cause fear quite like a panicked doctor

“Flankenstein! What’s going on!” She exclaimed, and dashed to her husbands side. 

She grabbed one of his hooves, which had flopped over the side of the bed. 

It was cold.

“I don’t know, he just… stopped. Its like somebody pressed a button, and turned him off. I gave him one hell of a dose of epinephrine, but his heart is still weak. There-“ 

A team of medics barged through the door and shoved First Class back. She quickly got out of the way, and watched helplessly as they shocked her husbands heart back to life. It quite apparently wasn’t enough, and moments later he was on a stretcher being run down the hallway. Flankenstein rode on top, manually driving the changelings circulation while one of the medics fed him air through a pump.

“I don’t know what’s going on! I want full life-support until I figure out how to reverse this!” Flankenstein ordered.

“What if you can’t? He looks dead to me doctor!” One of the medics argued, and they swung around a corner into a long hallway.

“I’ll try until either I die, or they fire me! He’s not dead, he’s just been turned off!”

They rounded another corner, and went towards a pair of swinging doors. A security pony stepped out the way, and then quickly inserted himself between them and First Class.

“No visitors in intensive care. Not unless the doctor says so.” 

First Class, with her brain still somewhere back in the hallway, pushed against him.

“Get out of the way, I’m the minister of state!” She shouted, and feebly slapped at his chest.

“Ma’am, Celestia herself would have to kill me to get past. No admittance.”

First Class drew back, and turned away. Her vision was blurry, and the world was seemingly being shaken around like she was in a snow-globe. She used the wall to steady herself, and caught her breath. Her face was covered with tears, and her dress soiled with perspiration.

Then she got a hold of herself, and stormed off down the hallway. She had heard something about a kill-switch, and she had an idea who might have flipped it.

Ten minutes later she, entered the quarters of Princess Luna in the University. Princess Luna nearly spat out her tea when she saw the Minister of State, covered in her own sweat and looking like she was going to murder someone, kick down her door and stride in.

“Minister Class, what is the mea-“

First Class stared at her with such an intensity that even the Princess of the Night was stunned into silence.

“I am calling an emergency meeting, right now. I need your authority to do so,” First Class demanded.

Luna put down her tea, and slid out of her chair.

“It had better be important.”

An hour later, all the heads of government were formed up in one of the empty conference rooms. It was all First Class could find on such short notice, and time was not something she had. She quickly explained the events earlier, and a few of them seemed to share her anger.

“Duke Wildcard is a citizen of Equestria, we can’t allow Chrysalis to get away with this! What about all the other changelings, is she going to murder them too?” She said, angrily striding back and forth before a shuttered window.

Celestia, who had been watching First Class angrily explain, stood.

“Minister Class, what would you have us do? If what you said is true, and Chrysalis has indeed “switched off” Duke Wildcard, then there is nothing we can do but hope there is some way to reverse this. If it is indeed the case that the other changelings await the same fate, then their destiny will mirror his. Their future lies in the skills of our medics.”

First Class shot back at her, “What would I have you do? Give me the Wonderbolts. The Magnificent is flight-worthy again. I will go down to the hive, and I will either get the cure from that bitch of a queen they have, or I will burn the entire thing to the ground.”

Shining Armour nodded, and looked to Celestia. “We were bound to engage the changelings eventually, it was only a matter of time. If there truly is some cure, Chrysalis will know. She will either give it to us to buy time, or we’ll simply be arriving at the foregone conclusion early,” he said.

“I certainly approve of this. Chrysalis is evil, and what are for if not to vanquish evil?” Spitfire added.

Luna stood, and the room turned to her.

“Spitfire and Shining, take your force and travel to the hive in force. I will come with you and… negotiate,” She said, and looked over at First Class, who's chest was still heaving with agitation.

“You will stay. Your place is with your husband. The battlefield, if it comes to that, is no place for a pregnant mare anyway. My sister will accompany you, and we will keep in contact.”

First Class watched them leave, engaged in discussion of strategy and deployment. She had gotten her way, but she was still terrified. Now that she had made her stand, she had to go back and confront reality. She plopped down on her flanks, and once again tears streamed down out of her already-reddened eyes. 

Celestia quietly took her side, and First Class buried her face into her shoulders. She cried, for quite some time, before looking up at her.

“If… if she did this… If… if he dies…”

It was too terrible a thought, and the stress and exhaustion finally caught up to her. Her body gave way, and she passed out in Celestia’s arms.


_____


Wildcard, meanwhile found himself staring into the abyss. He was no longer tired, and found he felt no fear either. He was numb to all, and swan through the abyss with a perfectly clear mind. He wasn’t sure where he was going, but he would get there soon.

An image shimmered into life before him. It was himself albeit smaller and not quite as aged. Him as a foal, long before his first mission was even a thought.  His smaller self smiled at him, and swam ahead of him. It was wearing an elegant robe, fit for a king.

“We did well, didn’t we? We had power, we had prestige, and our plans came to fruition. What more can we ask for?”

Another popped into reality- or unreality- on the other side.

“Love, of course! We found that too, so much love! It flowed into us like a geyser, and made us all the more powerful!”

Another voice came from behind, and Wildcard glanced back to find another pair. One was busy drinking a mug of cider, the other held a dagger.

“So many that we brought down on the way, so many that didn’t even deserve it. We were like a wild beast, loosed on the world. So many of them, and all nearly all of them forgotten. So trivial were their lives, and such was there deaths,” the daggered-one said.

“It was all worth it. Cider, pie, what’s a few innocent deaths if we get to enjoy a life of plenty?” The other one said, taking a momentary break in guzzling a seemingly infinite mug.

Wildcard, himself, stared back forward. Or was it really forward? It was forward relative to his body, anyway.

“I don’t think it’s quite that… dark. I ended some lives, yes, but they all deserved it, or knew the risks. Soldiers, guards, ponies of power. They all knew what they were in for when they took those positions,” he said,

“Really? Were they all so trivial that you forgot the rest? What about the mare you stole the form of to gain entrance to a castle? She was executed for treason days later! What about Velvet Glove? She hadn't even hurt you. What about the two guards you killed on assignment once? They were both fresh recruits, conscripted into duty. You didn’t plant any trees for them…”

“Why feel bad! You’re a killer, Wildcard, it’s what you are. Be true to yourself, and face up to it. There’s power at the edge of the dagger, and the pony that feels no guilt will go far,” The one ahead, wearing the robe, said.

“That’s… that’s not true! I did what I did because it was right, I saved lives!” 

“We helped Chrysalis murder entire villages,  in fact we were rather instrumental in that. We kill for Equestria now, but we killed for her before. Is there any real difference, in the end? We don’t care about what’s right, we only care about what gets we more of what you crave…”

“Power,” they all said together.

“We love it,” The one at his side said.

“We have it, and we will get more of it,” the one ahead said.

“We hunger for it,” the drinking one said.

“We kill for it,” The dagger one said.

“That’s not true!” Wildcard exclaimed.

“I don’t… crave power! I only want to do what’s right for my people, and for Equestria, for First Class!”

“Are we not one of our people? What is good for us, is good for them. The stronger we are, the stronger our love is. The stronger our love is, the stronger we are. Our enemies die en masse, they are nothing on our path for greater glory. Greater power,” the dagger one said.

Wildcard frantically swatted at them all, but movement in such a place without any relativity was impossible. They just looked at him.

“Power,” they all said together.

“We love it,” The one at his side said.

“We have it, and we will get more of it,” the one ahead said.

“We hunger for it,” the drinking one said.

“We kill for it,” The dagger one said.

Is this… what he really was? Wildcard surely wasn’t a saint, but he wasn’t evil either, was he? He had done… certain things, for Chrysalis, yes, but that was so long ago- and he hardly had any choice. He had been brainwashed into thinking it was for a greater good, to protect his people from a world that wanted to exterminate them. What was good for her, was good for them. What she ordered, they did. 

Was this, as they said, any different? Wildcard had definitely done some dark business for Equestria, for the greater good. He assassinated two people in Snowy Cove, and had seen dozens more to their end during the Night Guard uprising. What was good for Equestria though, was surely good in itself, was it not? They knew the risks, did they not?

What about Trotsky? Surely he had gone further than he should, but Trotsky was his enemy, and lost the game he had started himself. First Class was the best leader the ponies could hope for, and what was good for her...

Another image came into view before Wildcard, and the collective group hissed at it. It was Zeta, burned and mangled horribly. A horrible sight to behold, and it looked down at him through pale white eyes.

“You cannot escape what you are, Wildcard. You are a killer, a murderer, a destroyer of lives. You have taken so much from so many, and gained so much for yourself. Death himself marks your hoofsteps, for he knows that wherever you go- he will soon be needed. Did you ever think of why I had done what I did? Was there really no way to spare me such a cruel fate?” Zeta accused.

“I… I don’t know. I acted in the moment. You were my enemy, and I did what I’ve always done to my enemies. I… killed you,” Wildcard returned.

“You did indeed. With no remorse, with no apology, and with no second thoughts. You picked up that flamethrower, and lit me ablaze without a twinge of mercy or compassion. Did you even check to see if the job was done? I languished on the ground for two hours. Did you ever think about that?”

“No,” Wildcard replied simply.

“You are finally starting to be honest to yourself. That is why I am here, Wildcard. To pass beyond, you must know yourself for who you really are. Life is a trivial, and fleeting, thing. I bear you no ill will now, no indeed I find that it’s almost like I woke from a dream. Nothing back then matters,” Zeta said.

“So, wait, does that mean I’m dead? This is… some sort of afterlife holding chamber?”

Zeta nodded, which was highly odd to see from a nearly charcoal corpse.

“You are… in between. Your body persists, but not of its own volition. Those that love you are searching for some way to bring you back, but their chances are small. I know the whole story, Wildcard, and all of it’s turning points. This is one, and the choice comes to you,” Zeta said, and swooped down to stick his monstrous face up to Wildcard.

“You choose. Leave it all behind, and move on past such triviality. Or you can go back, but either way you will to face yourself first. There will be no leaving here until you are honest with yourself,” He said, and vanished the next moment Wildcard blinked.

“Power,” they all said together.

“We love it,” The one at his side said.

“We have it, and we will get more of it,” the one ahead said.

“We hunger for it,” the drinking one said.

“We kill for it,” The dagger one said.

“Enemy! We killed him, we brought him down! His death brought us fame, power, glory! They called us hero!” It continued.

Wildcard snapped back at him. “We are no hero! We are only a person, a person that has made certain choices in their life. Not all of these were right, but they had reason backing them. I am not a perfect person, but I do not do evil for the sake of it, for hate, or for my own vain glory! I do it because I honestly mean to do well, even if it might seem otherwise!”

The one with the dagger persisted, staring at him. Wildcard sighed, and continued.

"I killed him because it felt good. He had hurt me, he had threatened my wife, and he had threatened my position. He was my enemy, and ending him in such a final way felt good. Another stone to be stepped on, on my path forwards."

It vanished.

“Power! His death brought us power! We crave power, we enjoy power! We want more, and we will get more!” The robed one said, and Wildcard in turn faced him.

“We only want power to do what we think is right! Power is a means to an end, and that end is the salvation of my people, the protection of the Equestrian nation that has given us so much, and the future of our love! We would die for any of these, power is just a tool in our quest! We only enjoy power because we enjoy helping others, we enjoy leading because we think we lead well! We want more power because we think we can lead better than those that do! We would give it all up, every title, and every bit, if the price was our love!” 

The robed one appeared to fade for a moment, but persisted.

"I really like control too, okay? Is it so wrong to enjoy authority and power? I don't do outright evil to get them, because then I would be unable to enjoy them over the guilt. I like the idea that others look to me for guidance and wisdom, because I think I'm better than them."

It vanished.

“We’re hungry,” The drinking one said.

“Well, we do like to drink, and eat as well. I don’t see what’s so wrong about that, what’s a little gluttony after a day out saving the world?”

It shrugged, and vanished.

“Love, we love her. She is the only one that ever accepted us for who we were, inside our people or out. We would die for her, we would kill for her, and we would give up cider for her. Love,” The one beside him sung.

This one confused Wildcard, he didn’t see what was wrong with love.

“I don’t understand. I love First Class, is there something wrong with that?” He asked the void.

Silence.

“I gave up my career for her, I brought down Trotsky for her, and I would fight Celestia bare-hoofed for her. What is it, I love her for who she is!” 

Lie. 

Wildcard considered, and dug deep inside himself.

“I love her, because she is the key to my own future. Without her, I am nothing. Without her, my power is meaningless- I wouldn’t have it to begin with! I love her…”

Wildcard sighed.

“… because I love power.”

The blackness turned to white.


_____


Celestia left the hospital, having dropped First Class off. Minister Class was exhausted, utterly so, and had a bed of her own now. She was a strong mare, but even the strongest mare couldn’t keep up what she was doing while carrying a child. Celestia had been careless, letting her take on so much responsibility. First Class wanted to prove she was a good leader-but didn’t understand that she didn’t have to. Celestia already had faith in her, together with Twilight, to lead Equestria beyond her years.

The stress of her husband being; more or less, dead, wasn’t helping matters. Celestia strode out into the city streets, and decided to see what she herself could do. Wildcard was certainly no saint, but he had done well enough by them to deserve some small favour. At the very least he didn't deserve to die. She could contact Chrysalis, and perhaps bargain with her. 

Chrysalis was a damned fool. All she gained from doing this was having the Magnificent dropped on her head. Luna wouldn’t give a damn how many refugees were in the Hive, and most had already left back for Equestria, running from the looming armies that approached closer every day. The place would be laid to waste.

What a waste it would be, all those lives. There had to be some way to prevent it, even if Spitfire and Shining Armour were  right, and confrontation was inevitable. 

A pony bumped into her while she walked, and then quickly ran away. They seemed to have dropped something, which Celestia leaned down to pick up. It didn’t take her long to figure out what had happened when she saw the stamp on the letter.

It was stamped with the flag of the Changeling Hive. Celestia shot into the air to open the letter and read it without any prying eyes, and found a very simple message.

“We need to talk. Twelve miles south of Appleloosa, you will know it when you see it,”

Celestia wasted no time, and teleported herself to Appleloosa. She wasn't going to waste any time, and immediately shot off to the south as soon as she shimmered into existence above the town. Down below a dust-storm ravaged the area, and smothered it all in a suffocating fog of red. 

With no climate controlling pegasi, the entire settlement had been forced to flee. Appaloosa was no more, just a ghost-town in the ever-expanding desert.

Celestia flew over the desert, and soon came to a forest. The very edge of the badlands, inside which was almost inhospitable wasteland even in the best of times. The forest that she saw was an accidental result of weather-management, which had created a pocket of damp, nearly tropical, climate out here. It was dying now, and would soon be nothing but a million grey sticks, a monument to natures apathy for life.

Celestia flew over it, and did indeed quickly see what the changeling sending the message had meant. There was a great hole in the ground, and a few dust-covered stone structures stood within. Celestia swooped down, and landed gently on the stone floor. Her landing kicked up a sizable amount of dust, and she coughed while the cloud swirled around.

When the dust faded, a changeling stood before her. He was clad in thick armour, which shined in the dim orange sunlight. It was brand new armour, crafted specifically for him. It was made of thick steel, and gilded with gold. The breastplate was a series of green gems that formed an image of the Changeling flag.

That armour was probably worth more than the hive itself.

He looked up at Celestia, and stared at her with those calculating eyes she remembered from a few months back. Medulla, Chrysalis’ right hoof in managing Changeling affairs. He was also, as Celestia understood it, her consort. His eyes, with a red iris that peered forward and seemed to pierce through you, made him stand out from his peers.

“What do you want?” Celestia asked.

She would have to be careful with this one. There was no doubt that even if his intentions were good at the moment, anything she said that could somehow benefit Chrysalis would be used as such. Anything, even the slightest use of a word. It was time to put on her best poker face.

“I want peace eternal, of course. I think there has been a misunderstanding, so I come to ensure that the peace between our peoples continues. Eta-Delta has fallen ill, yes?”

Eta-Delta, Wildcard’s changeling serial. Clever, if Celestia responded with it the signal would be that he was still a changeling, and beholden to Chrysalis.

Celestia got bold.

“Director Wildcard, Duke of Equestria, Director of the Home Guard, and honourable citizen of Equestria, is indeed ill. It would appear that, somehow, his body has shut down. Minister of State, First Class, is on the way to the hive…” 

She stepped forward to loom over the changeling. That height, as much as it cost in doorways, had its advantages.

“… to talk,” she finished.

Medulla looked up at her, unfazed.

“Of course, we knew of them coming. That’s why I sent for you. I knew you would be more reasonable than they would. I fear it will get heated if they start demanding things. Chrysalis can’t give out the information you seek so publicly, and there’s a rather large camp of ponies that could… get caught in the middle,” Medulla said.

She’s going to use the damn refugees as hostages. To think, Chrysalis had once been a pony. Celestia’s stare turned to a scowl.

“If you think that will stop Luna, you are sorely mistaken. Chrysalis has started openly threatening the lives of our citizens, and she will destroy you before giving into any threat. If you threaten her with such terrorism as taking hostages, she will turn the hive to slag,” Celestia returned.

“I know she will, which is why I came to you. Like I said, I feel you will be more reasonable. I will give you the information you seek, and the only price is that you keep it secret,” Medulla said.

“No.”

Medulla sighed, the first sign of emotion thus far.

“Fine, have it your way. I think you’ll see wisdom in keeping it secret anyway,” He said, and turned away. 

He walked towards the temple-like structure that stuck out of the side of the clearing, and then turned back to Celestia. She watched him keenly.

“You stand on hallowed ground, Celestia. The original founders of my race make this their final resting place. They faced the same problem that Eta-Delta faces. Chrysalis was wise when she made us, but nature has it’s limits. We don’t generate our magic, but there is an additional physiological effect at work as well. They all died before finding some way to cure it, and it’s the reason we live where we do now,” he said, and pulled something out of his armour.

It was a hive mushroom.

“A simple protein, and we were lucky enough to find a species of mushroom that contains it. Science at that time was unable to explain why these mushrooms are so important to us, but we know now,” He said, and ate it.

“Eta-Delta however, is far beyond that. Our reliance on the hive-mushrooms stems on a purposeful element in Chrysalis’ design. A kill-switch, in essence. She had planned for it be triggered by this protein, but instead it works in reverse. Eta-Delta is dead, but you have one option available to save him,” He said, and slowly walked back to Celestia.

“Would you trade one life, for another?” he asked.

“If it serves the greater good, perhaps. Ponies have donated organs before, it’s an honourable and great sacrifice to make,” Celestia replied.

Medulla grinned, “oh, this is no noble sacrifice. The only way to save him now, is for him to drain a pony of their entire life force. It will be painful for them, and I highly doubt you’ll find a volunteer. Another changeling needs to give him a spark, and then Eta-Delta can do the rest.”

Celestia’s stared at him. She simply didn’t have any reply at that time. Damn Chrysalis, damn her forever! She did this on purpose. Celestia could save Wildcard, but the cost was incredible. 

A life for a life, was his worth it? Who was she to judge?

Celestia sighed.

“Leave.”

Medulla grinned at her, and then took his time walking around her towards the stone staircase leading outwards.

He glanced back, and gave her his parting words.

“So what matters more, Celestia? Keeping your precious morality, or doing what is best for your state? If he dies, I fear his hopes of “integration” will die with him.”

“A shame, really.”

Celestia fumed silently, while Medulla trotted up the stairs. She had a decision to make, and there was no right one.

Celestia had half a mind to just go with Luna and lay waste to the hive, but Medulla was right. Those refugees would die in the crossfire. If she could stretch peace out further, just a few months more, she could do it, somehow. Get them home first, and then Chrysalis would face her justice.

Then she had a flash of insight, and made her decision. She would not carry it out gladly, but she had no choice.

Wildcard would live.

Celestia spared no time in returning to Canterlot, and realized the time when she popped back into existence over it. It was nearly nightfall, and a bone-chilling wind was cutting through the air. She flew down not towards the hospital, but for the scaffolding-covered castle. Just beside it was a small building, which was unmarked and unlit. She set down, and walked towards it. 

The only sign of it’s importance was the letters over the thick wooden doors, which were the only way inside the windowless hut.

H.S.F.A.C.P

High Security Foreign Alien Containment Prison

Celestia unlocked the doors, magically, and strode inside. A guard stood by  a series of monitors, and a single lever. In the centre a metal elevator would take her down. 

The guard shot to attention, and drew his gun. As much as it was standard procedure, having a gun pointed at her was still somewhat un-nerving.

“Hold! I’ve got to check you off, standard procedure.”

“Of course,” Celestia said, and he approached her with a small hoof-held device. 

He ran it over her, slowly, “so what brings yourself to our little corner of Hell?” he asked.

“I’m about to make a decision that will send me right back here,” Celestia said.

The guard stepped back, and the comment seemed to go right over his head. He read the device, and whistled.

“Wow, seventy. I didn’t even know these went that high,” he said, and quickly strode back to his station.

Celestia took a position on the platform, and he approached her with a medallion in his hoof. Once it was around Celestia’s neck, he reached back, and pulled the lever.

The platform clanked, and juttered into motion. Downwards into the darkness Celestia went, and she didn’t bother to light her horn. It took a long time to descend, and she kept going over the last few months in her mind.

It was as if fate decided that, no; they simply weren’t allowed an easy life. Everything had been thrown at her, all at once. Equestria had lost its peace, and Celestia had lost her innocence. She had never ordered an execution before, and neither her nor Luna had done something like this.

She reached the bottom, and strode forward to face another guard, behind a steel mesh window. He looked up at her, and was stunned by Celestia. She looked right through him, her face that of total resignation.

“Bring me Archer.”


_____


First Class awoke, and yawned. She opened her eyes to find herself in a hospital room, and tried to sit up. She found a hoof on her chest when she did so, and looked up to see Silver Shield sitting beside her. He was clad in a uniform of the Equestrian Home Guard, and had been taking on Wildcard’s role recently.

“You need to rest, for the child,” he said.

“I’m fine, and it's fine too. I want to see my husband,” First Class said, and pushed against him.

“He’s in a coma, Flankenstein is with him. There’s nothing we can do, only hope in the doctor,” Silver said.

First Class laid back, and sighed.

“I don’t like this Silver, I don’t like being helpless. I want to fight, but I’m not sure who to kill,” she said.

Silver snorted, “Chrysalis, probably. That’s a matter for the military though. You, rest. You’ve done your part,” he said.

First Class cocked an eyebrow at him, and looked at him more closely. He was far younger than Wildcard, by a good ten years. Strong, handsome, and probably a great soldier in the service of Chrysalis.

“Silver, why? Why are you good to us, to me?”

Silver smiled, and gently pulled the covers over First Class.

“Because he is the best hope for my people’s future, but he is also marked by the evil of Chrysalis. You balance it, temper it. Without you, he would just be Chrysalis with a few new organs; perhaps not quite as bad, but no great leader either. You, and your child, will bring us to the promised land,” he said.

“The promised land?” First Class asked, and yawned again. She fell asleep before she could hear the answer.

“Equestria,” Silver said.

There was a knock on the door, and he turned to see an Equestrian soldier standing there. He motioned Silver outside.

“No, I must stay with the wife. No harm must come to her,” he said.

“We’ll take care of that, Celestia wants you,” he said.

“Why?” Silver asked.

The guard simply stared at him, and he got the feeling this wasn’t a request. He looked at the guard closely as he got up, and raised a flap on his jacket to reveal a sharp dagger.

“If anything happens to her, I will find you,” Silver threatened.

“If anything happens to her, Luna will beat you to it. Now get going, she’s in the psych ward,” The guard said, and gestured down the hall.

Silver left, and found that the guard was complemented by thirty more, all lined up in the hall. He felt better now.

“Why there?” Silver asked.

“It’s padded,” The guard replied.

Silver cocked his head at him, but received no further clarification. He took off down the hallway, and followed the signage down a few stairways to the basement. There, in a dark hallway, he found the doors to the psyche ward. Two centurions, heavily armed, stood guarding it.

When they saw him, they came to attention, and pushed the doors open for him.

“Sparkplug has arrived,” one of them muttered into a small radio at his chest.

Silver strode in, and inside found the lighting almost blinding compared to before. The hall was eerily quiet, and he walked past dozens of empty, padded, cells. The end of the hall two wide doors were open, and past them a dark figure was strapped to a chair in a wide room. Nearby another was on a stretcher, plugged into an army of machines, beeping away as they did the best impression of life possible with soulless machinery.

That would be Wildcard, but who was the other? Silver walked in, and two other centurions quickly slipped out, and closed the doors behind them. Celestia stood in the corner, and Flankenstein monitored Wildcard’s machines.

“I can’t force you to do this, Silver, but I doubt I have to,” Celestia said, and flicked a switch, which changed the lights to focus on the dark figure.

Silver recognized the figure on the chair. Archer, the most wanted pony in Equestria for a long, long, time.

“To do what?” Silver asked, and looked him over more closely.

He was clearly drugged into submission, and was clamped quite tightly to that chair. He had apparently been beaten recently, and was covered in bruises.

“You must give Wildcard a spark from this thestral, and then Wildcard will…” 

Celestia sighed, and stared at him with a gaze that made him wilt.

“Consume his life force. He will be saved, and this thestral will die,” she finished.

Silver whistled. “Dark, but a fitting end for one such as he,” He said, and his horn glowed a gentle green.

Celestia stepped back, and flicked another switch. The room, except for Archer, became dark.

Silver leaned over him, and tried to drain him. It wouldn’t work, he wasn’t awake. The only way to do it was to either have their defenses up, and walk past them- through love, or to simply crush the defenses- fear.

“Wake him,” Silver said to Flankenstein.

“I was afraid you would say that,” He said, and quickly jabbed Archer with some chemical before just as quickly backing away.

Archer coughed, and awoke to the snarling face of Silver bearing down on him. 

He wet himself.

It didn’t take long for Silver to take what he needed, while Archer looked at him with horrified eyes. Silver then pointed his horn at Wildcard, and transferred this energy off.

Wildcard coughed, and awoke himself. He looked at Silver, and then at Archer.

“Take him, it’s the only way to cure yourself,” Silver Shield said, and backed away into the dark.

Wildcard slipped off the stretcher, and peeled the medical instruments off himself. Archer tilted his head over, and somewhere inside he realized his doom,

“Wait, what? No, you can’t do this! I haven’t been given an execution order, why are you doing this?” He said frantically.

Wildcard got up, and walked over. He said, nothing. Words would be wasted on someone that would soon be dead.

“Who ordered this? I demand Celestia be informed!” He screamed, and fought the confines of the chair frantically.

“I have been,” Celestia said in the dark.

Wildcard walked to the front of it, and put his hooves up on Archers. He looked down on the thestral, and his horn began to glow green.

“Celestia? What are you doing? Do… do you want information? I’ll te-“

He wailed in pain, and his whole body shook against the chair. Wildcard pressed on, there was no mercy for the wicked.

“Tell you anything, just make him stop! Make it stop!” Archer yelled.

He screamed, a bloodcurdling scream of absolute pain. 

“Stop, make it stop! It hurts!” 

“It hurts!” He yelled again.

Wildcard’s horn glowed brightly enough that the others in the room were visible. Silver watched with moderate interest, Flankenstein looked away, and Celestia stared at it. She wanted to look away, but this had been her decision. She had made the call, and she would have to live with it.

“St- aaargh- stop it! Stop it!”

He jostled with the chair again, and was then crushed against it by a burst of green energy that came off Wildcard’s horn. He could no longer speak now, but tears of pain still streamed down his face. He began to froth at the mouth, and seized relentlessly as the very essence of himself was stolen from his body. 

Then, suddenly, the light ceased, and he fell still. For a few moments there was silence, and then Celestia spoke up.

“Is it done?” She asked.

Wildcard took a deep breath, and looked down at his hooves. They were no longer cracked, or dry. His hair was no longer grey, and he felt his hearing return to the clarity it had been before. He could swear he was a few inches taller, but couldn’t quite tell.

“Yes,” he said, and then looked at the corpse of Archer.

Was he really any better?

That question would have to wait, as Celestia hit the lights. The light blinded Wildcard for a moment, and when he opened his eyes again there she was. They were alone in the room now, only them and Archer’s corpse.

She was staring at him, with such a gaze that he could almost feel pressure on him. Her eyes had changed, this wasn’t the peaceful princess, naive and loving, that he had known before.

“Sit,” Celestia commanded.

Wildcard plopped his plot on the wooden floor.

“Listen.”

Wildcard did.

“I did something terrible today, and I didn’t do it for you. You are not my friend, Wildcard, nor are you someone I think very highly of. You are power hungry, you are arrogant, you are gluttonous, and you horde wealth. You’ve ordered your own soldiers to their death on a whim, and you’ve killed without remorse. Were this a perfect world, you would be in prison. This is not a perfect world however, as I have learned over the past few months. I have saved you not because I think you are worth it, I have saved you because I need you, as a tool. Without you, a great many more stand to die. You will do as I command, for as long as I command, or I will take back what is mine,” she said, “do you understand?

“I do,” Wildcard said.

“Good. If you ever disobey me, or show as much as a hint of becoming another Chrysalis, I will see that justice is done,” she said, and turned away.

“If you have any hint of a soul, you should feel guilty. I can only hope that throughout the rest of your life, that you do. Justice would be knowing that you never sleep soundly again, and the pain of what you have done to the world weighs you down like a thousand boulders. You will die alone, unloved, and all this power you have amassed will mean nothing when you are dust. History will remember you as an important nobody, a flash in the pan with a momentary agenda,” She said, and turned back.

“Now get out.”

Wildcard wasted no time, and beat a hasty retreat. He quickly burst out of the doors, and shoved his way past the centurions that had been listening outside. Silver was waiting at the end of the hall.

“I’m not sure if coming back was the best idea,” Wildcard said, and led him out of the psych ward.

“Is First Class doing well? I swear Silver, if I lose her I’m not staying,” Wildcard asked.

“She is doing fine, although she is worried. What’s with all this talk of staying, anyway?” Silver asked, as they walked.

“I’ve seen beyond, Silver. I saw who I am now, who I really am,” Wildcard said, and glanced back at him.

“I didn’t like what I saw.”

First Class was in her room, reading a copy of Pone, a popular vanity magazine, when Wildcard strode in. She felt what could only be described as total relief, and instantly a great deal of tension evaporated. Her body seemed to sink into the bed, and she smiled.

“Wildcard!”

First Class came to his side, and gave him a great hug.

“First! You have no idea how good it is to see you,” Wildcard said.

“The feeling is mutual,” she said.

Wildcard pulled back, and sighed. First Class got the feeling he was holding something back, as he kept breaking eye-contact.

“Wildcard, is something up?”

Wildcard sat on the bed, and held her hoof in his own as he stared at the wall.

“I… did some thinking, today,” he said.

“First Class, would I make a good father?”

“Yes,” Was the immediate response, but First Class quickly thought more on it.

Would he?

“I think…. I need to take a break, First. I need to be alone for a while, I think it’s for the best, for all of us,” Wildcard said.

First Class gripped his hoof.

“I nearly lost you, you can’t leave me again!” 

Wildcard sighed once more, and took back his hoof.

“I know, but… are you sure you ever had me?” he asked.

First Class was perplexed by that, and stuttered a collection of syllables out.

“I won’t be gone forever, and Silver will be here to look after you. Consider it a vacation, I think it’s high time I had one,” Wildcard said, and looked at her again.

Tears beaded in her eyes, but she could see there was no arguing. He had made his decision, for whatever reason.

“I love you, Wildcard.”

Wildcard looked away, and then left. 

First Class cried into her hooves, and then felt a warm touch on her shoulder. It was Silver, doing his best to console her.

“He’ll be back, he just needs to work some things out. He’ll be back even if I have to drag him back myself,” he said.

First Class chuckled softly, and wiped her eyes.

“He better be. There’s a good heart in him Silver, even if most ponies can’t see it. He’s only ever wanted to do what’s right, but all the world has ever given him to work with is a collection of wrongs. He doesn’t always pick the best one, but can you really blame him for making mistakes? He’s a good person wrapped up in the body of a bad one, and he’s never had a chance to prove otherwise,” she said.

Silver nodded.

“A good heart, but his brain won’t let it come out. He’s afraid to be good First, because he doesn’t think he can be. How can someone that has done what he has, and seen what he has, turn around and be good? Where’s the justice in that, to just let him walk away and pretend it never happened? He made a decision, today, but I can’t figure out what it is,” he said.

Wildcard strode down the hall, and out the hospital. Then he took flight, and quickly blew forward to the South. It took him hours, and hours, of non-stop flying, and by the time he reached his destination past the desert he was utterly exhausted. He hadn’t wanted to waste any time getting there however, and sleep could wait until he had arrived. When he did, he landed on the snow, and crunched through it towards the wooden cabin.

He had gone to Snowy Cove, and here he would stay. He had a great deal of things to consider, and he had to face them alone.

However, he found he wasn’t. When he opened the door, he found he was staring into an almost mirror-image of himself. It was another changeling, staring back at him.

Wildcard sighed, and his hoof moved back to his leg. He had come armed, of course he had- he knew better than to expect life to give him a break.

“Are you my relief? Thank Chrysalis, you have no idea how boring it is out here,” The changeling said, and walked towards Wildcard.

“Hey wait a second, you…”

Wildcard unholstered his gun, and pointed it at the changeling. He quickly backed off, but found himself between the wooden wall of the cabin, and the barrel of a gun.

“I’m really sorry about this, I can’t let Chrysalis know I’m here. It’s… nothing personal,” Wildcard said, and ticked the safety off.

“Wait! Don’t! I’m with you, Wildcard!”

Wildcard cocked an eyebrow at him.

“Are you?”

The changeling swallowed, and nodded frantically.

Wildcard looked at him, and then at the gun.

If he was going to change himself, well now was a good time to start. He threw it on the ground, and it slid to the other changelings hooves. The changeling looked at it, perplexed.

“If you aren’t, you might as well just shoot me now,” Wildcard said.

The changeling picked it up, and to Wildcard’s surprise, dumped the magazine on the floor.

“No. We’re better than that, aren’t we? You said you could bring us back to Equestria, peacefully,” the changeling said.

“I believe in you, Wildcard.”

He handed the empty gun back to Wildcard, and then walked off into the kitchen.

“I imagine you came here for a good reason, but I won’t stick my nose in where it isn’t wanted. I’ve got a good set up here, and plenty of food and bits. It’s all yours, make yourself at home.”

Wildcard collected the magazine, and holstered his gun. He watched his comrade in the kitchen silently, as he prepared them a meal.

For the first time in his life, he had a real friend. Flankenstein was one thing, but even he only knew Wildcard for official reasons. This changeling though, this was different. He held his life in his hooves, and could have taken it and brought great fortune to himself. He didn’t, and gave it back freely. There was no catch, no hidden agenda, and no demand.

That was friendship. To have power over another, and to not use it for your own gain.

Wildcard sat himself on the small bed, and unloaded his bag.

“What’s your name?” He asked the other changeling.

“Well, I’m either Eta-Eta, or Snowblind, depending on who you ask,” He said, and strode out with two cups of steaming hot tea.

“Soups on, it’ll be a couple minutes. You must be cold, so I made us some tea,” He said, and sat beside Wildcard.

For the first time in his life, Wildcard talked to him as a friend. No politics, no agenda, he bore his soul out to his comrade for hours. Everything was covered, from the day he arrived in Equestria to the day he had arrived. By the end it was nearly nightfall, and Snowblind had eagerly listened to every word.

Wildcard asked him, when he finished, one final thing. 

“Would I be a good father?”

Snowblind looked him straight in the eye, and told him the truth, as one friend to another.

“No, but you can be.”

> First Class Mare
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

November the 30th; and time had been good to First Class the two months Wildcard had been gone. The Zebras finally made good on their promise, and roared onto the continent through Snowy Cove, delaying any advance from the South- perhaps indefinitely. Spitfire was making strides over the ocean, and the Crystal Imperial forces bolstered their fleet. The first few surface ships had been put to sea as well, and it looked like they might actually make good on their promise to end the war by Hearths Warming.

Even things at home had been less then the calamity they had prepared for. Winter had, as expected, come early. It was definitely a harsh winter, but with the rations they had scuttled away, and a few specialty farms still churning out food, all was well. It had been two months of pause in the seemingly unending series of crisis, and First Class had spent them in Canterlot General. Her room had been turned into a makeshift office, since she wanted to keep herself in the know even as Celestia took back her old responsibilities. As much as First Class had wanted to protest, she knew that she was in no position to- the foal was due any day now.

While snow gently fell down outside the open window, blowing around in a fog of white, First Class lay in her bed reading a confidential support from the South. She still had a say in things, but others were doing the legwork. Apparently, somebody in Snowy Cove had been passing them information about the Saddle Arabians, and the Zebras had used it to great effect.

First Class smiled, and cradled her midsection. He was still out there, somewhere. For whatever reason he had decided he needed to be alone, and she respected that as much as she craved his embrace. The last time she had seen him was two months ago, and any day now she would give birth to their foal. A foal conceived by love, but love was a complicated thing. Love meant accepting each other for who you are, and supporting each other as you grow. Wildcard had seen something that day, and she wasn’t sure what it was. Whatever it was, it terrified him. First Class had certainly come into her own herself. Gone was the naive minister that followed her Princess’s every whim. She was her own person now, and made her own calls. She would lead Equestria, and be better at it too. 

She saw the world for what it was; a war with everything. The nations of the world had been playing a game of power for centuries, and only now was Equestria being roped in. First Class would do as Luna did, and do whatever it takes to protect Equestria in the new order, just as Luna had in the past. For her people, and… for their children. 

That is what Project 11 represented. If she could complete it, it would be a weapon that would make the world shudder. The power to level a city from an untouchable distance was within her grasp. With this power she could protect Equestria from anything, and end this destructive conflict. Then she and Twilight Sparkle would rule, together. Twilight would take care of the trivialities, and maintain a kind face, while First Class did the real work. 

Wildcard, meanwhile, would lead his people back to Equestria, and the ponies would welcome their changeling brethren, and peace would last forever.

As soon as he came home, anyway. First Class laid down the report, and rolled on her side to look out the window. Hopefully he would come back soon, back from his soul-searching. He had done so much for her, and she had so much to give in return. With luck, this wouldn't be there only foal.

A knock at the door interrupted her musings- thankfully, since that’s all she had been doing recently. She rolled back around, and smiled to see Silver Shield standing in the doorway. He was her bodyguard, and a close friend. He watched over her like a hawk, and did a lot of legwork while she was tied to a bed.

“Did I come at a bad time?” Silver asked.

“Oh no, not at all,” First Class said, shaking her head, “you came at the perfect time actually, I hope you’re up for more cross-country.”

Silver smirked, “For you? Always, just don’t ask me to find Wildcard, you know where I stand on that,” he said, and spun a chair around to sit. 

First Class frowned, she did indeed “know where he stood”, the had debated it endlessly. First Class wanted him to go find Wildcard, and bring him back, but Silver always refused, and said simply he was in “good hooves”. 

“No, no I’ve yet to kick that wasps nest again. I need you to go to Baltimare, and check on something for me,” First Class said, and reached between the mattress to retrieve a black envelope.

“Baltimare? There’s nothing there but ruined buildings and ruined ponies, and Twilight Sparkle’s assorted experiments. What could you possibly want there?” Silver asked.

“Silver Shield, how can you be so smart and yet so stupid? Twilight Sparkle isn’t the only one hiding things in Baltimare- only the least skilled at it. Take this, and you’ll see what I mean. The site itself is located on the corner of Fifth and Celestia, you’ll find entrance in the library there,” First Class said, and hoofed him the envelope.

“Oh well, isn’t this something? A secret project financed by the Minister of State, and not even Twilight Sparkle knows about it? Which you hid from her in a library?”

Silver flapped the envelope, “I think I’m not the only stupid one here,” 

First Class laughed, “Maybe, but we’ve all got our secrets. I simply need you to make sure everything is going as planned. No communications go between us- no paper trail. If anyone ever did find them, I would simply pass it off as another one of Mezza Luna’s projects. That’s why I’m sending you,” 

Silver nodded knowingly, “Of course, if there’s anyone you can trust with a massive state secret- it’s a changeling spy. All of Equestria will sleep safe at night knowing I, Silver Shield, am guarding their secrets!” he boasted. 

First Class laughed, slowly at first, but then spiraled into a fit of giggling until her sides were sore. It felt good to laugh, oh it felt good to laugh. 

“Oh Silver, I don’t know what we would do with you,” she said. 

Not skipping a beat, Silver replied: “You would be a maid, Wildcard would be dead, and Chrysalis would be on the throne.”

First Class laughed again, and hit him on the shoulder, “Treason, heresy and treason!”

Silver got up, and saluted, “I’ll hang tomorrow for sure,” he said, and about faced to march out the door. 

First Class opened her mouth to bid him goodbye, but was stopped by a sudden pain in her midsection. Then she felt wet. Silver was nearly out the door when she screamed bloody murder at him.

“Silver! My water broke!”

The next few minutes passed by in a daze, as a rush of nurses poured into the room. The waves of pain crashing through her body put her into a daze, and Silver held her hoof through it. 

“He’s not here!” First Class shouted, "Damnit, why did he have to leave now!" 

Wildcard, as fate would have it, missed the birth of his first child by a thousand miles. First Class gave birth to a foal, a pegasus filly. Silver stayed throughout by her side, taking Wildcard’s place. It calmed her somewhat, as did a lot of opiates, and two hours later she held her first born in her hoofs. She had a beautiful blue coat, mixed with a deep navy-blue mane. Her eyes though, those were special. They were blue, all blue, just like her husband. She also had a green “cape”, where her husband’s one of blue would be. She cradled her, and let her suckle. First Class felt utterly euphoric as she laid there, holding the first changeling/pony born of love in their races shared history. 

First Class named her Odo, and on that day the future of Equestria was decided. 

> Silver Shield
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Silver Shield didn’t think of himself as a stallion after power, nor did he think very much of himself at all. No, he was just a black coated changeling, trying to make his way in the world. He had made some good bets recently however, and found himself in a position of leadership. He was Wildcard’s- and how his wife First Class’s- right hoof. He was perfectly happy with this, and would be happy with less. All that mattered him is that, as far as he knew, he was doing good. Like the rest of his kind he had done things not quite ethical for Chrysalis, but what could he do about the past? All he could do is keep getting up every morning, and take what the day gave him.

Today that day gave him a bitter frost, and he opened the train-car door to be greeted by it, before leaping out of the moving train. Baltimare, which was nothing but miles of ruined buildings standing like grey tombstones to a once great city, rose in the distance. The wind picked up the snow on the ground and swirled it all around, as well as rippling his thick winter jacket. He had come on a supply train, as a “guest”, and it rumbled off into the distance while he started the long walk to the city. 

He had come in the morning, hoping to use the dim sun to cover his approach, but realized now that it was pointless- there was nobody watching anyway. So it was cold, very cold, and he huddled together under his coat, as he pushed himself onward down the iced roadway towards the city. Silver had seen many a winter in the Hive, but those were mostly just damp- it rarely actually froze over. This far north though the ice-sheet pushed out over the ocean, and a good half-metre of snow had been blown to the side of the road by the whistling winds. The sun shone weakly, it’s heat lost somewhere in the blowing snow, and covering it all in a faint pink light. It was beautiful really- the grey stone monoliths highlighted by that pink sun, as the blowing snow reflected it up into the air and back down over everything. The dark ocean waters in the far distance contrasted with the ice-sheet that extended over it, and slowly grew in his sight as he trotted down hill towards the low-lying city. 

He at the very least had that to appreciate in the hours it took for him to trot to the city. Silver was a simple pony, and enjoyed simple things. A good view was certainly something to enjoy, and every time he looked up from the roadway towards that vista, he forgot how cold he was for a few moments. When he entered into the suburbs outside the city, with long forgotten homes enclosing around him, he took some time to levitate the black envelope he had been given before himself. First Class had given it to him, apparently it was something she had close to her chest. 



PROJECT 11- BURN AFTER READING

(Some things never change)

Project 11, thus called because any other name would arouse interest, is a weapon. A great weapon, a weapon that will end this war and any others that may come, perhaps even before they come. (Was First Class sure she wasn’t evil?)Project 11 combines the remaining material created by the Night Guard as part of Project Paraselena, and combines them together for a much smaller craft, although still devastating in its effect. Utilizing the power of the alicornium reactor, Project 11 is a weapons system that can be applied to any frigate sized ship in service. The weapon itself utilizes magnetic energy to propel a projectile at relativistic speeds, dispersing enough energy on impact to level a city block from hundreds of kilometres away. The weapon is incredibly precise thanks to the computer technology created by the Night Guard, and has an expected precision of two-metres. The only difficulty remaining is finding a material that can take the necessary punishment to launch a projectile at the speeds needed. Thus far friction is the greatest concern. We expect to have this worked out shortly, and roll the weapon out to the front within weeks of project completion. 

Project 11 will change the world. No longer will it be a world of chaotic infighting amongst equal nations, slaughtering each other for petty reasons. They got Equestria involved in their game, and now Equestria will beat them at it. We will win the game, forever, and ensure peace reigns throughout the entire world. Equestria will rule the world, for peace and friendship, through Project 11.



Silver whistled, it was megalomaniacal enough to give Chrysalis pause. Still, you had to hand it to First Class- perhaps what the world needed was a good kick in the rear. She had a point as well, they had brought Equestria into this mess. They had sown the wind, and now the world was going to reap the whirlwind.

He burned the document, as requested, and continued on down the streets. He had been walking for quite some time, and looked around as he went for somewhere to rest. A snowed-over helicopter, long since disused, rusted outside what looked like an inn. There he made his shelter, and broke apart a dusty couch inside the lobby to make a fire out of. Once that was done he sat, and enjoyed its warmth along with some trail mix he had brought. He looked around, finding the setting rather eerie. The inn had been abandoned so quickly that there was still a few bits on the counter, and luggage was strewn about at random. Nobody had even scavenged through for anything to steal, it was just left as the day it was abandoned.

Something he found strange, as well, was the helicopter outside. Equestria hadn’t been building them until long after Baltimare had fallen- so what was it doing here? Once he had taken his fill, he extinguished the flames, and investigated it himself. 

Silver walked around the helicopter, looking it over closely. The cockpit doors had been left open, and the controls had been destroyed by water and ice long ago. Icicles hung from the rotor blades, and the windows had cracked and shattered wherever water had managed to get in. The only identifying mark on it was the old Night Guard symbol, barely visible under thick icing. 

They had been here, apparently, at some point after the city fell. Probably connected to why he was here today, judging by what he had read. Silver shrugged; questions best left to others- since answering them himself was likely to get him killed- and carried on. He soon found Fifth street, and followed it down past a few ruined barricades to Celestia avenue. There, on the corner, was the library. It was probably beautiful once, but now the huge glass windows that looked onto the street were long broken, and the book statue outside was covered in snow and ice. The office blocks that made up the rest of the huge building that the library was in were no better off, and the outer rooms had mostly crumbled inward, leaving desks and plumbing hanging down along the side. Silver looked at it all uneasily- that building was not long for this world. 

Still, he had a job to do. He shrugged away his thoughts again, and gingerly stepped around broken bits of glass and other debris to enter the library. Somebody had been here recently and removed all the books- probably Princess Twilight Sparkle.

He looked around the building, with only the noise of the wind whistling around; and his own hoofsteps, reminding him he was alive. There didn’t seem to be any obvious entrance to “Project 11”, and just as he halted confused,  before a receptionist desk, he heard the crystal-clear sound of a gun cocking.

He sighed, and put his hooves over his head.

“Oh, you’ve done this before?” his would-be attacker said, and stepped out of the shadows behind him, “that’s good, now turn around.”

Silver did as ordered, and came to face a thestral. A thestral with a rather large gun, and a war-weary face that had definitely seen a good deal of violence. A deep scar ran down her face, and her deep grey coat was spotted with other ancient wounds. Her yellow eyes stared at him, running through some threat calculus.

“Who are you, who sent you?” she demanded.

“Silver Shield, First Class.”

She squinted at him, and didn’t seem quite convinced as she stepped closer.

“Why?”

“Progress report.”

She lowered her gun, and sighed, “Been wondering when she would send someone,” she said, and extended a hoof.

“Night Watch, pleasure to meet you,” she said.

Silver shook her hoof, “Silver Shield, pleasure to meet your gun.”

Night Watch laughed, and waved her weapon in the air, ‘I don’t actually have any rounds for it- the Minister doesn’t trust us enough. It’s just for show,” she said.

“Follow me though, and I’ll show you something that isn’t.”

Silver followed her into the upper levels of the library, and then across a sky-bridge across the street. They descended again into an office that had seen it’s lobby collapse, and down into it’s basement. From there they entered into a dimly-lit tunnel that had been dug recently. Night Watch explained her interesting career as she went along. She had fought for Mezza Luna, and was on the long list of ponies that should have been sent to the block, First Class had some use for her however, and she and many others made their home in Baltimare now, knowing that First Class was the only thing between them and said block. Success in their endeavour held the promise of freedom, while failure held the promise of at least delaying the inevitable. 

Silver got the idea of locking Chrysalis and First Class in a room for a while. 

After- yet more- walking, they came to the end of the tunnel, and entered into a large underground cave. Silver was in awe as he entered the huge cavern, which was almost a hundred meters tall. In the centre was a metal building, on a stone outcropping that led down to a pathway that led around, and into a few tunnels leading away.

Night Watch pointed up at it as they stood just inside, “That’s where we do our testing, it’s separated just in case there’s any… accident. The tunnels lead to our quarters, and a small farm that keeps us fed. We’re quite happy down here, honestly. It’s almost like home,” she said.

“Really? I would think you would be chaffing under the demands of Minister Class, why not run?” Silver asked.

Night Watch shook her head, “because we lost, Silver. Mezza Luna is dead, I don’t even know what happened to Archer, and the rest of us would burn this place down if they knew we were here. There’s nowhere we can go, we can only wait and hope eventually people move on,” Night Watch replied.

“At least she lets us do something, by all rights she should have our heads,” she added.

Silver shrugged, he would probably have done the same. He had a weird feeling he would end up killing at least one of these thestral’\s though- but not today.

“I have a feeling she might take that right depending on what you tell me today- I’m here for a progress report, remember?” Silver reminded her.

Night Watch nodded, and led Silver up the metal room. Inside was a construct that looked a lot like a gun, except that the barrel was a track, and it was on a tripod pointed towards a scorched wall.

“That’s our mock-up, we’ve been trying different materials for weeks now. I think we’re close to a break through, but we need more tungsten,” she said.

“Can you prove this progress?” Silver asked.

Night Watch nodded, and opened the door to the lab. It hissed open as the contained air leaked out, and Silver walked in behind her. On the walls different papers, all written up in science talk, along with graphs and diagrams, were mixed with different melted rods of metal. 

They had indeed been trying all sorts of things- there was even a golden rod. Night Watch pulled down a few clipboards, and stacked them up on a metal table.

“This is all the data we’ve collected so far. Any scientist worth their salt will be able to read it, and come to same conclusions we have. The projectile must be made of tungsten, and the rail of the same. We’ve worked out a system whereby the rail can be rapidly replaced as it naturally erodes, and that’s the best we can do with current technology,” she said.

Night Watch bemusedly stared at Silver Shield, as he had ignored her explanation like a teenager in class.

“Not much for science, are you?”

Silver shook his head and came back to attention, the mare in his mind would have to wait.

“Unless there’s a test later, no. I’m just here to collect your progress, somebody else can figure out what it means,” he said.

Night Watch laughed, and pushed the boards over to him, “Whatever works. Just take this information back to First Class, we’ll be waiting.”

Silver removed the paper from said boards, and rolled it up into the inside of his coat. 

“Will do, just… as you were I guess,” he said.

Night Watch smirked, “Yeah, yeah we’ll be fine. I suppose it could be worse- we could all be dead,” she said, and sighed deeply.

“Sounds like you’ve got some regrets,” Silver noted.

Night Watch snorted indignantly “Oh, I’ve got my share, but not the ones you might think. I didn’t support Mezza Luna for some idealogical cause; not for some grand scheme of world domination. I supported her because I’m loyal, and she was our leader. I fought to win not because of what that meant, no, I fought simply to win. I would do it again, and again, even if it led to the same place. I’ll die knowing I was loyal to the end, Silver Shield,” she said.

“An interesting speech,” Silver replied, “I suppose I can respect you for not trying to weasel out of your past. Plenty have tried, and believe me- they aren’t successful.”

Night nodded, “Of course, and I imagine if I did- we would meet again. Go, bring First Class what she wants, and may the Hollow Shades lead you to a darker night.”

Silver bid her goodbye- less poetically, and left the way he had come in. Night Watch followed him distantly enough that she probably thought he didn’t notice, but he certainly did. Of course he kept this to himself, better for whatever their next meeting would be. 

Soon enough he exited back out into the office complex, and quickly disappeared down a hallway. Night Watch trotted right past, and must have assumed he went for the library. Silver wanted to find his own way out, and wandered his way through ruined rooms to the top of the building. The door to the roof was locked, and he had to buck it down. So with a mighty kick he did so, and sent the metal door flying off it’s rusted hinges. Silver was blinded by the sudden daylight, and slowly sauntered into the biting cold with one hoof over his eyes.

From here he could see the entire city, which sparkled with the afternoon sunlight. He propped the door back up against it’s frame, and angled it so that it reflected sunlight upwards. Now he had a landmark, and could easily come back here any time. With that accomplished, he took a moment to look over the city.

It really was something, and he wished he was enough of an artist to paint it. He wasn’t though, and the sun would be setting in a few hours. So he swallowed his hate of the cold, and buzzed his wings to lift himself into the air, with his hooves tightly collected under him. It only took a few hours, but by the time he had flown back out of the city to the rail line he was utterly exhausted. He was lucky though- a military train carrying armoured vehicles to the south was rumbling down, and he flew down to hover outside the door to a troop car at the rear.

He knocked on the door, and when it slid open he was surprised to be greeted by a thestral- and a dozen rifle barrels. He knew it was, Malgavian, leader of the new Night Guard.

“Oh, good, saves me some time,” he said, and grabbed Silver Shield.

Silver said nothing as he was shoved into the corner, thestrals closing all around.

“First Class needs you, Silver. Something is happening with the changelings, they know she had a foal. You're the only person she trusts enough to protect her, so we're going to get you back to Canterlot," Malgavian said.

"If you let her down, I'll kill you, understood?"

Silver nodded.

A day later he returned to his place guarding First Class, his eagle eye aware to any threat. He was at his post, outside her room at Canterlot General, when he saw, to his surprise, a familiar face.

"Wildcard!" Silver exclaimed upon seeing the chubby changling approach down the hallway.

"Your wife is asleep, but I'm s-"

Wildcard drew a dagger, and leapt at Silver. Even through his surprise Silver had good instincts, and managed to dodge. He scrambled down the hallway, and slid around a corner to collect himself. There he saw another changeling, holding the rag-doll body of a thestral.

They had come.
> Ballad of Wildcard I
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Wildcard sipped at a cup of cider, and sat back in his chair. The bar was a dank, dark, and smokey pit of despair in Snowy Cove, and the stone floor had definitely seen its share of drunken fighting. These days though the bar was almost always inhabited by zebras on leave, and it had been this way ever since they invaded a month ago. Wildcard had been there when the first tanks rolled through the streets, greeted by the cheers of the besieged citizens of Snowy Cove. For a long time they had lived under the constant threat of the griffon-backed Confederacy coming knocking, and now they were free of that fear. 

Zebra occupation came at a price though, and the townspeople soon realized that as their rations were emptied, and the town was brought under military governance. They were part of the Zebra Empire now, whether they accepted it or not. 

Wildcard enjoyed his drink, and listened in on the gossip around him, while he waited for a certain zebra to enter. A few minutes later, exactly at noon, the door opened and a well-decorated Zebra soldier entered. Wildcard sat up; his contact had arrived.

The zebra made his way through his comrades, dodging a few swinging mugs, and made his way to the table at which Wildcard sat, waiting.

“What do you have for me this week?” he asked, and sat across from the changeling.

Wildcard smiled, and sat back with his legs on the table.

“Nothing, really. The griffons are pulling back to the Wayfarer line, just like you thought. They’re having second thoughts about this whole thing, General. If you break the Magenta line, the entire southern theatre will collapse, and this “confederacy” will be yours.”

The general, a zebra who had never actually given his name to Wildcard, and had gone to some lengths to conceal his identity (General Riffen, three stars, born in Volgostag to parents Lillen and Trotter, favourite colour is blue), sighed with relief and took off his hat.

“Thank the Emperor for that. We’ve invested a lot in this campaign, and the Saddle Arabians have taken advantage of it. We’ll beat them yet, but Volgostag…” he trailed off.

“Nevermind that. Good work, and thank you. The Empire owes you, and the Empire pays its debts. You need only to call on us, and we’ll be there,” he said, and slipped his hat back on.

“Oh, I’ll call General. Don’t you worry,” Wildcard said, and sipped at his drink.

“General Riffen.” 

Riffen frowned, and took off without another word. Wildcard enjoyed the rest of his drink, and then paid the barkeep before slipping out into the street.

Winter had come in all its glory, but this far south it was a temperate season. Snowy Cove was named as such for the snow of the mountains around it, not in the cove itself, and down here only a thin sheet of damp snow heralded winter. Today was colder than usual, and Wildcard shivered as he walked down the street.

He walked past a vendor hawking “fresh” fish, and towards the gates out of the town. Those gates were guarded by two enormous machines of war now, dual tanks that served no real defensive purpose this far behind the lines- but reminded the population who was in charge. 

Wildcard walked past, paying them no mind, and continued through the open gates down the stone path that led, eventually, to the active front line. If one were to continue down this road for a day, they would come across twenty thousand Zebras, backed by the greatest military technology ever constructed, battling a force thrice that size, but fighting with zero logistical capacity. Spitfire had cut them off- a thousand miles ahead the Magnificent stood, blocking any reinforcement. 

The confederacy the griffons had forced into place was eating itself to try and survive the siege, but it would fall eventually. Winter had come, and they had no magic to stave off its effect.

Wildcard had seen this all first hoof. The first month out here he had spent spying behind the lines, and analyzing his own life while he worked. He wondered who he was, and who he had been, and who he was going to be.

In Clevenhoof, he had seen the griffon plans for the region, their entire overarching goals. They wanted to conquer the south, and then fortify it. They had no plans for invading Equestria; because they knew they couldn’t hold it. Wildcard had studied those plans, and considered what to do. If he passed the information along to Equestria, they would know not to fear invasion, and could re-focus into bolstering their fleet. If they did though, that put the hive in danger. So he had been faced with a question- Equestria, or his people in the south? Shining Armour was ready to abandon the Hive, but here he had a chance to reverse that. 

He sent the information by courier, and discussed it with Snowblind. Snowblind supported Wildcard's decision, and his reasoning astounded Wildcard.

“Equestrians are our people, Wildcard. We and the ponies are one and the same, and what’s good for Equestria is good for us. Let Chrysalis rot in the hive, we don’t need her. Anyone that stays with her, is just as bad as she is.”

In Stagville, weeks later, Wildcard had met one of the resistance leaders. In the burned buildings, toppled by months of warfare, he spoke at length of his history, and of daring feats pulled off on a razors edge. He was a heroic stallion, but Wildcard never learned his name, and he would be forgotten by history. The changelings had fostered a great many small pony resistance groups such as his in the south, but as soon as the Equestrians started pulling forces off the southern line, the griffons came down on them with a swift brutality. He was the only one left, from hundreds before, and that night he gave gasped out his last words; “Damn the Griffons.”

Wildcard stayed there for some time, living amongst the poor refugees subsisting off the bare minimum, scrounging in the muddy ruins day by day. It was a terrible life, and yet they continued to thrive just the same. Even as the sounds of gunfire rang out at night, they told stories around barrel-fires, and held dances in bomb craters. There was strength in the common people, and it was inspiring. When he left that city, just as the Zebras arrived, he left a changed pony. He would make himself a better person, he would put aside his past, and he would walk a new path. It would be a more difficult path, but he couldn’t deny it now. He had seen the strength that lay in the hearts of ponies, and sought to bring that strength out in himself.

His next stop had been a town far behind the griffon lines, Clearwater. It had once been a popular vacationing spot, famous for its clear lakes for swimming and fishing, but was now crushed under the jackboots of Griffon occupiers. They had drained the lakes, and consumed their stocks of fish. Despite the tremendous odd, the people of the town fought, and the way they did it astounded Wildcard. They ostensibly did everything their occupiers asked, but kept up resistance in secret. Machines broke, food vanished, and weapons disappeared. Nobody, not a single soul, ever gave up who was doing it despite every effort on the Griffons to bribe, threaten, and extort them. 

The griffons had dealt with it for a long time, but couldn’t figure out which townspeople were rebellious, and which were not. So one night they herded the entire population into the town hall, and set it ablaze. They destroyed an entire population to stop what was perhaps a dozen resistance fighters, and Wildcard watched  it all disguised as a Saddle Arabian. In those flames he saw a reflection of himself, and remembered the lengths he had gone to destroy threats. Was what he did so different?

That had been his last outing, and on the way back to the west he reflected on what he had seen. His thoughts returned to Celestia’s monologue, and how justice would be “knowing he never slept again.” For a long time he didn’t, his mind racked with unending questions. What was justice, in his case? He had done awful things, and he realized this now. How would he ever repent, to pay back his debt? What was justice for him?

Snowblind had more wisdom to share on that when he  returned to their snowy-cabin.

“Justice, for you, is to carry this burden until you die. Wildcard, I honestly think you’re not a bad person at your heart but what Celestia said is true; you have done a great deal of wrong. You’ll never quite get over it, it will always eat away at the back of your mind, and you’ll always question yourself. That, I think, is your justice.”

He was right, and Wildcard accepted it. Guilt was his penance, and he would forever bear a guilty conscience. He wouldn’t give up though, that would be an even greater injustice than everything he had done combined. Wildcard had a lot to offer his people, and Equestria, and he would fight on even through his doubts. 

For First Class, a guilty conscious was worth it. She had said the same about him, which worried him greatly. She was heading down a dark path, the same path Wildcard had walked, and he needed to stop her. He needed to set her right before she made the same mistakes, and tomorrow he would go back to Equestria.

One thing still bothered him though, greatly. Did he truly love her, or did he only love her for who she was, for her station? If she had been born an earth pony, would he still love her?

That was an interesting thought, since it led him down a line of questioning just what “First Class” was. If she was, as he thought, an intelligent and charming, resourceful and witty pony, with a fiery heart and courageous soul, then wouldn’t she have that office anyway? 

Wildcard loved power, yes, that much was true. He loved First Class not because she was the key to his own power though, he loved her because she was who she was, today. Her heart, her mind, her soul; these were the power of First Class. He loved her, and he loved power, and both were one in the same. She was power!

It still didn’t quite convince him, but it convinced him enough that he would return all the same. He wanted what was best for her, and for now it seemed that included him, thankfully. He also desperately wanted to see his foal, which was due to be born any day now. 

Wildcard arrived, after hours of walking and pondering, and the gate to the cabin he had made his home alongside Snowblind. The gate was open, and Wildcard smiled as he crunched through the snow, happy to know his friend was home. He stamped his hooves clean on the doorstop before pushing open the door, and then froze in horror as he flung it open.

Before him lay Snowblind, lying still on the floor in a puddle of his own green blood. A dagger stuck out from his back, and on the wall behind him a message had been painted in white.

“WE HAVE YOUR DAUGHTER.”

Wildcard fell on his hooves, and screamed to the sky. He screamed, and screamed, until his throat bled with exertion, at which point he rolled over and cried. 

His only true friend was dead. The only purely innocent soul he had ever known, taken long before his time by a political feud that didn’t even really effect him. He had been dragged into this unfairly, and paid a price he didn’t owe. 

As the shock wore off, Wildcard's despair slowly shifted to rage. He dragged his friend's corpse out into the yard and buried the changeling, which took a good deal of effort because of the rock-hard soil, but he did it anyway. It was nightfall when Wildcard finished, and broke apart a bit of the fence to use as a grave-marker. 

Wildcard collected his coat and gun. The last thing he did in Snowy Cove was to set fire to the cabin, then took to the sky and headed north.

Justice be damned, Chrysalis is going to die.

____

First Class stirred in her bed, and yawned as she awoke. It was still late at night, but something outside had disturbed her sleep. She leaned over and hit the switch for the lamp, and sighed with relief to see her foal still sleeping in its crib.

Something slammed against the wall outside, and she jumped in her bed. Just as she slid out to see what was going on, the door opened. Outside it was dark, as dark as in her room, but she paid no mind to that. She gasped with surprise and happiness to see her husband looking back at her, and was about to leap forward to hug him when she noticed he was holding a dagger.

“W… Wildcard?” She asked.

Wildcard looked at her, and smirked. “none so shameful,” he said, and drew his dagger back. 

“W… Silver!” First Class shouted, and backed against the wall. 

The changeling, whoever it was, kept the dagger drawn and flanked around the other side of the bed. He glanced at the crib, and then back at First Class.

“We’ve come for what’s ours.”

First Class blinked, and before she could do anything herself Silver Shield leaped in from the doorway and tackled the changeling. His dagger slid over to First Class, and she quickly picked it up. Another changeling slid into the doorway, and First Class darted to block him. She swiped at him with the dagger, and he drew back momentarily.

“Silver, what’s going on!?”

“They’re h..” Silver grunted as he traded blows with the changeling “… here for the foal!”

First Class wasn’t going to give up her foal without a fight. She snarled and lunged at the changeling before her, and pinned him against the opposite wall of the hallway. He gasped as the air was knocked out of him, and kicked at First Class. She took the hit in the chest, and was thrown back against the floor.

The changeling leaped over her, back towards the room, but her hoof shot upwards holding the dagger just as he did. It stick in deep, and his body slid against the wall, leaking green blood onto the tile floor. 

First Class darted back into her room, and felt the bitter cold of the outside air against her face. The window was open, and a dark figure was receding into the night. First Class screamed, and leaped for the window.

A hoof caught her leg, and she glanced back to see Silver Shield holding her. He was fading fast, and bleeding from a dozen different wounds. 

“Don’t… go… after… They’ll expect that. Wait… for help. Wildcard… is coming," he gasped, and his hoof released, and went limp and fell to the floor alongside his head.

First Class hovered in place, with her wings nearly buzzing with adrenaline. Every part of her wanted to chase that changeling down and tear him limb from limb, but she was smarter than that. There would be more of them out there, waiting, and she would be torn from the sky. 

First Class heard a cough, and stepped out of her ruined room to find the changeling she had stabbed still faintly grasping to life. She stared down at him, fire visible in her eyes. She put a hoof to his neck, and pressed with it as she leaned in.

“Where are they taking her?” she growled.

The changeling coughed, and spat out a bit of green blood, “Home… to her mother,” it said.

First Class pressed harder, “I am her mother!”

The changeling, despite death clawing at him, laughed, “No… you are just the vessel that carried her. Chrysalis is the mother, and for a long time she has wanted…”

First Class leaned in closer, and felt the changeling's last breath. She released her grip on his neck, and his body slid to the floor.

First Class calmly, collectedly, picked up the phone in her room. To her surprise it still worked, and she was able to dial Luna. The Queen's groggy voice greeted her, asking what could be so important at such a time in the morning.

First Class said only this: “Chrysalis has signed her death warrant,” and hung up the phone. Then she leaned back on her bed, and laughed hysterically. Chrysalis was such an utter fool, and her "plan" was so totally demented. Alone, surrounded by bodies, she could only laugh at the sheer foolishness, and cry at the horror.

Outside there was another noise, and she picked up Silver Shield's blade as she rolled off the bed, and came against the wall as she heard hoofsteps outside. She waited for the intruder to approach, and then saw it stick its head inside. It trotted in, and leaned over Silver with it's horn glowing vibrantly with magic. First Class watched, slightly confused, as the green magic engulfed Silver and he gasped for air. He was saved.

“You can't die yet Silver, we've got work to do," he said, and levitated the sleeping form of Silver Shield to the bed.

In shock, First Class dropped her dagger and it clattered to the floor. The figure turned and for a few moments the two simply stared at each other.

“Wildcard…”

“First…”

Their embrace said more than words could, and they both turned to look out the window, hooves over each others shoulder. Outside in the hall the lights went back on, and a Night Guard squad could be heard shouting as they rushed toward the room.

“We’re going to get her back First, I promise you. We’re going to get Odo back, and send that bitch straight to Tartarus,” Wildcard said.

“You don’t need to promise me that, Wildcard. I’m coming with you. I want to see her face before we end it. I want to see her cower in fear. I want her to know the pain she’s brought so many others- or failing that; just pain,” First Class said back.

“Together then,” Wildcard said.

“Together.”

The Night Guards swept in behind them, and then backed to the side to allow Malgavian entrance. The two turned to him, while his soldiers collected the bodies of their fallen outside.

Malgavian glanced at Silver, and then to Wildcard.

“What can we do to help?” he asked.

Wildcard grinned evilly, and they began to plan.
> Ballad of Wildcard II
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

In Celestia’s School for Gifted Unicorns, a young mare with a pink saddlebag halted before the door to one of the large lecture halls. On the door was a note, and two Centurion guards watched her closely as she read it.

“Ugh, I took a train here for nothing?” she groaned, and rolled her eyes before sauntering back down the hall.

She looked back at one of the guards, and winked coyly, “looks like I’ve got a free day. 56th street, room 205, Ponyville.”

The guards looked at each other, and shrugged. 

Inside, things were not quite as humorous. First Class had the stage, and behind her was a well-prepared map of the Changeling Hive, drawn using the information Malgavian had collected earlier. He was in attendance, sitting near the rear, as were the rest of the military. Celestia was notably absent- busy tending to civilian affairs- but Queen Luna, Field Martial Shining Armour, Colonel Flash Sentry (Recently promoted following the retirement of Brigadier Sunshine), Air Martial Spitfire, and of course Director Wildcard; were all taking part. The operation to rescue Odo, and destroy Chrysalis military force, would involve all of them.

First Class outlined it, pointing with a long stick to outlined parts of the diagram. The central hive fortress stood at the end of a large courtyard, on each side of which three large buildings were positioned. Newly added since the conflict a few months back was a high stone wall around all this, and four giant towers on the corners. On these towers massive anti-air emplacements watched the sky, and smaller guns pointed in all directions. The threat posed by these defence installations had forced Shining Armour to reconsider how easy it would be to raze the place. There was also, still, the matter of the Baltimare Refugees still in the Hive. Only a hundred or so remained, but that was a hundred hostages for Chrysalis.

She pointed out one of the towers, and started speaking to those gathered.

“These towers pose an extreme threat to any Wonderbolt support, as well as being capable of inflicting massive Legion casualties. Our first strategic priority is removing the threat posed by them. With them gone, the Wonderbolts can bomb un-harassed, and the Legion can take whatever time it needs to breach the walls themselves,” she said, and pointed to Malgavian with her stick, “Night Guard Commander Malgavian has volunteered a solution to this mission, I think it best he explain it himself.”

Malgavian stood and bowed, putting his hooves up on the desk to speak to the rest.

“I will lead a strike-force at night, and plant explosive charges within the towers. The charges will be set on a delay, which will be worked out with the forces of the Wonderbolts and Legion for maximal effect. In order to guarantee success, a squad of infiltrators will attempt a direct assault on the fortress, ensuring the changelings are distracted. The rest will get in, and get out, and Chrysalis will be none the wiser,” he bellowed, his strong voice echoing through the chamber.

Queen Luna turned in her seat, “Not only is that a suicide mission, but you know full well the Night Guard has been dis-armed. As much as I would like to, I can’t officially authorize this, you will have no support, and there will be no rescue if you fail,” she warned.

Malgavian was not put off, “I will not fail, even if we all fall, I can assure you that those charges will be planted. There is a dead-mares switch on each, and we will die to carry our mission out if need be. As for your support, so be it. This is a volunteer mission, entirely off the record, and I will stand trial for treason if need be,” he said.

Luna applauded him, “Very noble of you. Even in success there will be no glory, and none will even know your role in the events to come. I commend you, Malgavian, and I know I was right to let you lead your people. I only hope you come back, they still need you,” she said.

Malgavian bowed again, and sat back down.

“Very well,” First Class said, “That takes care of one problem. That still leaves us with several more, the first of which is the refugees still within the Hive. We cannot attack knowing they are there, one hostage becomes a hundred and one, and the potential for innocent loses is catastrophic. They must be safely returned home before anything can be done,” she said.

Wildcard stood this time.

“I’ll get them home. Silver Shield left me a lot of talented changelings, and they are loyal to myself and Equestria. We’ll slip in as merchants, and their workers, and send the refugees home the way we came. To the other changelings it will look simply like an odd amount of merchant traffic- but at the end of the day the tables will balance,” he said.

“Are you serious?” Luna questioned, standing herself, “the border is closed, nobody goes into or out of the hive unless Chrysalis allows it. How do you plan on getting past the border guards?” 

Wildcard looked back at her, “Well it’s simple isn’t it? We kill them, and replace them with our own. The guards at the Hive itself will assume we were cleared- and it’s not like they’ll have much time to figure it out.”

Luna rolled the idea around in her head, “Very well, but if you fail, there will be no support for you either. Your roll becomes the most important, since we cannot launch any offensive knowing the refugees are still there. I have to ask you, are you willing to die for this mission?” she asked.

Wildcard nearly snarled at her, but managed to quell himself. “Queen Luna, they have my daughter. They stole her from her crib, and the bitch queen Chrysalis seeks to make her her own. I will die, and I will lead every changeling that follows me to their death, to free her from the  slavery that our race has known for centuries. I would give my life ten times over to end Chrysalis’, and I will see her dead if it’s the last thing I do,” he boomed at her.

The room was silent, and then Luna simply nodded, “Good, because it might just come to that,” she said.

Wildcard and Luna both sat, and First Class continued.

"Now, Air Martial Spitfire, stand and be seen," First Class commanded.

Spitfire, after a moment of surprised hesitation at the directness of the order, stood with a military straightness, and snapped her hooves to attention, as old training took over. "Air Martial Spitfire, reporting ma'am."

First Class nodded, and paced the platform while she spoke, "Good. I called you here, along with the 1st Airborne and your finest Wonderbolt wing, to provide some element of air support during the coming engagement. You, the 1st, and your chosen wing; will use the Ace in the Hole for staging and fire support. The ship will be under your flag during the mission."

"Understood, I already read your briefing. Dash Wing is taking some time off today, they'll be ready to fly tomorrow," Spitfire said, "is that all?"

First Class nodded, and Spitfire regained her seat. She shook her head as if coming out of a daze, and seemed confused. She hadn't taken orders from anypony in a long time, and from a mare that failed the academy too.

It felt odd to be second, and she didn't like it. Taking orders from Luna or Celestia was different- they were almost like gods, and the orders of gods were unquestionable. To be spoken to by this mare though, a mare she had failed personally, as if she was only second class.

It was weird, and she did not like it one bit.

“Now then, with the refugees returned home, and the emplacements destroyed, that still leaves the matter of the changelings conventional forces, and the fortress itself. Chrysalis has been arming her horde the past few months, and despite their lack of experience, they will still put up quite a fight. They have an underground farming system as well, so if this ends up turning into a siege, we’ll have already lost. The Legion and Wonderbolts will need to strike fast, and hard, and break though immediately. Chrysalis cannot be allowed to entrench herself in the fortress,” she said, and turned to Shining Armour, Flash Sentry, and Spitfire; who were sitting together.

Shining Armour stood, and clacked his hooves together, “A lightning advance is just what I was hoping for. We’ve been exploring a few ideas based on what we’ve seen in the south, and I’ve been waiting to attack the hive for a long time. You can rest assured that I can break through that wall, and destroy any resistance. The only problem will be breaching the fortress itself…” he said, and turned to Spitfire.

She shook her head, “I can’t help with that. The Magnificent is busy blocking reinforcement into the south, and the fleet is fighting a dozen battles over the ocean. I won’t lose the south, or our gains over the ocean, to kill one changeling queen. ” she said.

Shining Armour tensed up, “If you have nothing to offer, then why the hell are you here!?” he snapped.

Spitfire stood and faced him, “I’m offering you the support of the first airborne, and that’s all I can!” 

First Class slapped her pointer against the lectern, and got the attention of the two furious warriors.

“Cut it out, blue on blue!” She yelled, “Spitfire, can you not give us even a single frigate, or one of those missile ships?” 

Spitfire, again, shook her head, “It wouldn’t do any good. Nothing except the Magnificent herself has enough firepower to breach those walls, and I’m not going to ram it- I need all the ships I have. Besides, you already have the Ace in the Hole, take a shot with that for all the good it will do.”

First Class sighed, “Well, what then? There must surely be some solution here, we just aren’t seeing it.”

Flash Sentry stood, and adjusted his uniform, “Who says we need to breach the fortress walls? Couldn’t we simply knock down the door, or perhaps have some of the loyal changelings open it for us?” 

Wildcard stood, and gave his piece on that, “No. The fortress is designed for that, any frontal assault will be directed down a deep maze of fortifications, and will not survive to the end. If we breach the fortress we’ll be able to bypass that, and we would be able to flank the defenders, and secure the inner sanctum. The changelings in there will be alert for us as well, Chrysalis knows them all by name. This fortress is much larger than you think, Colonel Sentry, and we’ve thought of this for a long time.” 

Flash nodded, and added the information to his suggestion, “Okay, fine. So we surround the thing, and start digging. It might take a while, but we should be able to get to those caves you mentioned, right?”

Wildcard nodded, “It could work.”

“So there we have it,” First Class said, “Rout the changelings, push them back, and while they cower in their “impregnable” fortress, we’ll dig under them. Don’t forget what this is about however, gentlecolts. My daughter is in there, and I want her back. I will lead the first assault personally,” she said.

Luna stood, looked at First Class, and then swallowed her argument. First Class might not have any formal training, but from the looks of her she could kill Chrysalis by sight alone.

“I will have Chrysalis’ head, and if any of you fail…”

Wildcard glowed slightly with love at that threat, it was simultaneously terrifying to see First Class so dark, and intensely attractive. 

Luna cleared her throat, “Very well, we have a plan, and we have the tools to carry it out. Let’s get started with all due haste, and rescue this child. If we succeed, we will have done a great deed, and removed an equally great evil from this world. Equestria is behind you, First Class, and we will stop at nothing to set right this injustice. I will come with you, and we will show the world the power of a mother scorned,” she said.

First Class grinned, and imagined the hive on fire in her mind. She would destroy it, and anyone that opposed her. She would turn the entire thing into a ruin, and rescue her child from the clutches of Chrysalis. Then, she would kill her. She ran through her mind the different ways she might do it. A gunshot was too quick, a public hanging would have too many legal concerns. 

Regardless of how, she knew for certain she would. By this time the day after tomorrow, she would stand on the ruins of the once mighty Changeling Hive, and revel in the glory of that victory. They had picked a fight with the wrong mare, and she was going to bring hell down on them all. All of them, every single one of those bastards that remained loyal to Chrysalis, they would all die. Anyone that could be loyal to a queen that did such a thing wasn’t worth the breath they drew, and First Class would fix that, soon enough.

The others had departed while she daydreamed, and Wildcard had come to her side. She kissed him, which surprised the changeling and made him blush.

“I’m glad you’re here with me, Wildcard. I remember a long time ago you told me that killing somebody changes you, but I think it might… change you for the better. I’m going to kill Chrysalis, and I want you by my side when I do,” she said.

Wildcard was unsure how to reply, simultaneously aroused and frightened by his wife’s dark speech. First Class sensed that, and grinned mischievously.

“It’s been a long few months, hasn’t it?” 

Wildcard nodded, “It certainly has,” he said.

First Class picked up his hoof, and led him into room behind the stage. Apparently it was a professors office, and his name was labelled on the door. Neither cared, and soon whatever was on that professors desk was cleared off.

It had been a long few months.

	
	
> Ballad of Wildcard III
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

While the days sun fell below the horizon, and the cold wind became even colder from the lack of sunlight heat, Malgavian strode amongst his compatriots inside the Canterlot Mountain. In here, there was always warmth, and always a dim light cast by the magic torches everywhere kept it light, but not light enough to totally ward off the shadows. Balance between light and dark, allowing both to interplay, was a core part of the thestral culture and society. Mezza Luna had penned an order to extinguish the torches, thinking it best that the thestrals rely on their night vision, and that the mountain was no place for a pony.

She was gone now though, and that left Malgavian to lead. The thestrals had always followed whoever was the strongest amongst them, ever since the days when they lived under the yoke of King Sombra. Malgavian barely knew how to guide his people, but he knew that what he was doing was right. Even if it led to their end, he would never allow another fall from grace, not as long as he was alive.

So it had been that he ordered every able thestral to assemble within the mountain. It had only taken hours for them to cross the entire nation to arrive, as they all knew that any call to arms was surely important, and dropped anything to speed to Canterlot. Short and tall, male and female, young and old; every single able bodied thestral stood there, clad in the ornamental armour of their family. From above, an observer could see the deep purple of the original thestral families, and the dark reds and oranges of the other groups. The meaning of these colours had been long lost to time, and the origin of their ancestry only a historical footnote. It was still a beautiful sight to behold; an entire race united.

Malgavian himself stood on a high pedestal, which had long ago been the bearer of a gigantic statue of King Sombra. Now it was the base of an obelisk, a memorial to all those lost in the defence of Equestria. Malgavian stood before it, flanked by two of his trusted lieutenants- Helm and Carina. He wore the armour that Dusk had worn, long ago, during the battles of liberation. The dark purple armour, with an emerald shaped like an eye on the chest, was thousands of years old. He found it fit quite well, actually. Mezza Luna had been too short for it, and so had thankfully not besmirched it by wearing it herself.

His lieutenants both wore the thick, tempered steel, armour that represented their position. He had named them Protectors, and their word was law throughout Thestral society. They would be his eyes and hooves as he tried to reform them, and resurrecting the ancient order of the Protectors had sent a clear message as to the consequence of disobeying Malgavian. Long ago they had been the order tasked with ensuring even the leadership remained loyal to Sombra, and now they would ensure that even that leadership remained loyal to Equestria.

They looked rather proud of their position, as they looked down at their fellows with their chins held high. Once Malgavian felt he was ready to speak, he stuck out his hoof, and they stamped their polearms on the rock they stood upon. The crack reverberated through the giant cave, and echoed long after. Once the sound dissipated, all was silent. The entire race looked up to Malgavian, and none dared even cough.

“Thestrals,” Malgavian started, his voice amplified both by the high position he had, and by a subtle bit of magic in the armour he wore, “I stand before you today, after we have been brought so low, to bring you a chance to counter the shame that has been brought on us. Last night, dark agents of Queen Chrysalis struck into the heart of this nation, and a few brave souls died trying to stop them from their evil deed. Try as they may however, the changelings were not stopped, and last night they committed a grave atrocity. These cowards seek to undermine our nation by kidnapping a foal from her mother, who had barely held the child in her hooves before being so rudely interrupted. Now, I know that times have changed, and that officially I cannot ask you to action. Officially, we are disarmed; officially, we are mere executors of the will of the “police” force. Officially, we are unworthy of trust. So, I cannot order any of you to follow me, and I will not think ill of any of you that choose not to volunteer. Perhaps you are right to do so, perhaps it really isn’t our place to be smiting evil like the days of old. Perhaps it is better for us to step aside, perhaps. We have a chance here, however, to prove that is wrong! We have a chance to do what is right, to lay low those that will do evil, and to show the world who we really are! I will lead a volunteer mission to the changeling hive, and we will pave the way for a military advance tomorrow. History will not recall our brave sacrifice, there will be no direct evidence that we were there, and there is no support waiting for us if we fail. We never did what we did for glory, we did it because it was right. So I ask you, will you come with me, and do what is right?”

Malgavian ceased speaking, and waited for echoes of his strong voice to dissipate. The gathered crowd below stood still, starting up at him.

“Step for-“

Before he could even finish, the entire hundreds-strong herd of thestrals marched forward in lockstep, and looked back up at him.

Malgavian smiled, “This, this is who we are! We are the light in the darkness, we are the moon that always watches! We will do what is right!” he yelled, and pumped a hoof into the air.

The crowd roared back at him with a joyful cry, “We will regain our place of honour!” he yelled, and pumped the air to another cheer.

“We will never go quietly into the night, for Equestria!”

————

Outside Canterlot, deep inside one of the many new bunkers built for defence, Shining Armour struggled to fit himself into his uniform- the life of office work had been having a rather significant impact on his waistline- in his quarters. He had to look good for the troops, since he was after all about to launch an offensive that would probably see a good amount of them into the next world. He took a deep breath, and with a good solid pull he managed to pull the strap of the gold-plated armour around his barrel, and quickly did it up. He released his breath, and grabbed the table before him while he collected his breath. 

Beside the mirror, which was shaped like a heart (what wasn’t in Equestria?) there stood a picture of his wife, Princess Cadence. He sighed, and held it in a hoof, as he thought longingly of her. These days they rarely saw each other, and whenever they did it was inevitably just business. Now, they certainly made time for their own “personal business” after hours, but was it so much to ask to spend a week or two alone, just them, without having to worry about the fate of nations?

Shining shook his head, and put the picture back. There would be a time, and a place, but it wasn’t now. 

He turned around and frowned at his room. The bunker office he had been calling home for the last few months definitely wasn’t  the “place” either. The bedroom was little more than a cot, with a basic locker for clothes, and single rug that looked incredibly out of place on the concrete floor. An open doorway led into his “office”, which was just a bare desk and several filing cabinets full of assorted documents. Shining preferred to lead from the front, and rarely spent any time in here unless he had to.

Thankfully, he called the shots, so that rarely happened. 

Prim and proper looking, he cantered out of his quarters, and into the maze of thin concrete corridors that made up the winding facility. One of a few dozen, it was designed so that it would take as much time as possible for any southern advance to clear. Hopefully, that time would be enough for the Wonderbolts to pull an emergency retreat and come back home.

More hopefully however, that would never happen. 

Shining Armour made his way past a few dozen other soldiers, who all saluted as they passed. The commanders of the force should be assembled by now, so he made his way to the main meeting room. The concrete halls widened as he made his way deeper, and deeper, underground. After a few minutes walk, he approached the steel doors, and the two guards saluted smartly as they pushed them open.

Inside, seven ponies stood at the edges of a long table. Upon that table was a physical map of the continent, with unit markings kept up to date as well as they were able. It wouldn’t take a genius to figure out the position Equestria was in. The south was like a giant blob of red, clustered around the dozens of formerly-independent cities and towns. This red blob was focused towards the west, where an encroaching green mass was cutting into it. 

Even so, the blue clay figures that represented Equestria’s own defences seemed only like a thin line between the wide empty expanse of it, and the chaos south of it. 

That thin line, today, was significantly thicker near Appleloosa- or what was left of it. Only a token force remained at the Changeling hive, the rest had been pulled back to that position. Said token force would abandon their position as soon as the sun set, and the game would begin. 

“Alright gentlecolts,” Shining said, and snapped his hooves together at the end of the table. Behind him was a map of the Changeling Hive, with several positions marked with Xs and military jargon.

“Here’s the gameplan. Night Guard is going to knock out the changeling's heavy anti-air batteries, and it’s a damn good thing since those guns can point at us pretty easily. We’ll have a clean shot to the wall. First Recon will arrive ahead of the main thrust, and plant explosives along the wall here…” He picked up a pointer, and pointed out a few X’ed positions near the northern wall of it, “… and here,” he finished, and pointed out a second set.

“The southern hole will be the main entry, and First Armoured will go in along with Second, Third, and Fourth Infantry. First infantry will go in through the western hole, and try to catch them in a crossfire. Contingency options are to simply blast new holes in the wall if needed- it isn’t that thick,” he said, and paused for questions.

Receiving none, he continued. “Once inside the hive walls, you’re going to encounter extreme resistance. Expect them to give no quarter, and give them none. These changelings are the extremists, the brainwashed die-hards that refused to accept friendship with Equestria. They will all die for their queen, and they will do it gladly. It’s going to be an absolute meat grinder in there, but we should be receiving support from the air, and with luck the loyalist changelings will have something up their sleeve too,” he said.

One of the commanders, known to Shining as Colonel Sandstorm; First Armour, stuck up his hoof.

Shining nodded, and he spoke. The pony had a rather thick Manehatten accent, and a rather thick barrel as well. The orange fur on his second chin wobbled as he spoke, “Sir, I don’t quite understand. I get that the changelings are a threat, but why don’t we just bombard them into rubble? We have the airpower for it,” he said.

The others nodded their agreement, and turned to Shining. He put his hooves down on the table, and looked down on them.

“That’s a good question, but here’s a better one: Why are we doing this now?” Shining asked.

Sandstorm shrugged.

“They kidnapped a foal, Colonel. We can’t bombard them because this is a rescue mission, not an assault. Taking down the changelings is a secondary objective, but one that will probably be unavoidable,” Shining said.

“Hold on,” another one spoke up. 

Shining turned to him. Colonel Hoofclaw, of the First Infantry. He spoke with a Ponyville drawl, and was [physically the opposite/ a funhouse mirror image - pre readers note which works better] to Sandstorm. It was with good reason the purple-coated stallion led the premiere infantry unit. 

“If they kidnapped a child, isn’t there a risk that they could harm it, or even kill it, to stop us? What about the refugees, did we just mark them for dead as well?” 

Shining rubbed his forehead, ethical questions in wartime always made his head hurt.

“No, Sentry, we haven’t marked them for dead. There’s a plan to get them all home, you can rest easy on that. As for the child, Chrysalis invited this when she stole it. Regardless of the risks, she must be stopped. We can never again allow the changelings to kidnap one of our people, once was too much.”

Flash stood down, and accepted the answer.

“Now then,” Shining said, and turned back to his map, “Once we have secured the courtyard, we are to dig-in and send sappers down into the caves. The fortress is supported by a network of chambers below, where they grow mushrooms. While it’s separated from the rest, we should be able to blow our way in. Once the sappers have accomplished that, we’ll storm them from below. We should be able to bypass their entire defensive network, and if all else fails we can dig in down there and starve them,” he said, and turned for more questions, “Understood?”

“Yes Sir” they all replied.

Shining nodded, and placed the pointer on the table, “Good. Now, this isn’t going to be easy, and we’re going to lose a lot of good ponies out there, but remember why we’re doing this. She stole a foal for Celestia’s sake, and we’re going get it back. We’re going to get it back if I have to send the entire Legion to it’s grave, do you understand me?”

The commanders nodded.

“She stole a foal,” Sandstorm said, “that’s beyond evil. I would gladly die knowing I was helping putting an end to a monster like Chrysalis,” he said.

Hooflclaw slapped him on the back, and Sandstorm jumped a bit in surprise, “I had no idea you had such nobility in you, Sandstorm! Maybe we should just drop you in, you can sit on her and save us all the trouble!” 

Hoofclaw laughed giddily, and slapped his hoof against the table. Sandstorm blushed awkwardly, and looked to Shining Armour pleadingly, wordlessly begging to be allowed to leave.

Shining cleared his throat, and magically bonked Hoofclaw on the back of the head to get his attention, “Alright, now go collect your units, and get some rest. We set out an hour before dawn tomorrow- that’s 5AM- and I expect those those tanks to be fully operational, Sandstorm.”

Sandstorm nodded meekly, and quickly excused himself from the room.

Shining Armour stayed for a bit, and pondered the war-map on the table. The force they were sending to the hive was all they had for defence in this region, and it would be tied up in the Hive. If the southern armies knew of this, they could strike at the very heart of Equestria- Canterlot. It was a supreme risk, but it was one that had to be taken. Equestria was founded on the ideals of friendship, and if it was one thing friends did, it’s stick up for each other. So Equestria would put i’s life on a dagger's edge to save one foal, because each Equestrian knew that the others would all do it for them in an instant. To think otherwise was inconceivable. 

The changeling hive was marked with a jagged clay horn, painted black. It floated into the air, buoyed by the magenta coloured magic that flowed from Shining’s horn. For a moment, he considered giving Chrysalis an offer to surrender. She was certainly a rational being, even if she was selfish and evil. 

Then, with a grin on his face, he crushed the clay figure into dust. He couldn’t offer a surrender, because he knew he would never be able to force himself to honour it. Chrysalis was going to die, even if it took the entire Legion to do it. 

——

First Class came up the boarding plank to the Ace in the Hole, flanked as always by the two thestrals she took with her everywhere. She didn’t know their names, and that suited her just fine. They were her tools, not her friends, and it was best to not get too attached.

The Wonderbolt guard at the top of the plank quickly flapped into the air to let them pass, not even bothering to question them. When she went into the ship, she was forced to take a position behind one guard as they went through the thin corridors. The crew they passed as they made their way to the bridge darted out of their was as if First Class was a demon from another world, and she was buoyed by the sense of respect. 

When she came to the bridge of the ship, an old-style wooden room with a simple wheel before a sweeping window, she found Spitfire looking out that window, otherwise alone in the room. The bridge of a ship like this was much simpler than something as extravagant as the Magnificent, with only a basic communication system beside one chair, another for the captain to be seated, and the aforementioned steering wheel. Spitfire stood near the window, looking out at the grey and snowy valley beyond. 

“Air Martial Spitfire,” First Class greeted, and trotted in. Her guards took positions near the door, with a fluid elegance and utter silence.

“Minister?” Spitfire questioned, turning from the window, “What are you doing here? This is a military ship, Minister, and no place for a lady such as yourself.”

“No place for a lady like me? Dear me Spitfire, you seem to have forgotten who it is that ordered this whole venture,” First Class scoffed. 

Spitfire flashed red with rage, but decades of dealing with officials had trained her to keep her cool.

“Be that… as it may, this is still a military ship, and under my command. We’ll be heading out soon, and this is too dangerous a place to have any important ponies of state idling around,” she said, as she watched First Class slowly trot around the room.

“Idling around? You think I’m here just to watch, to make sure my orders are carried out? Do you really think I’m so vain, Spitfire? Do you think I’m going to take notes on your approach, and draw up improvements when I get home? No, you misunderstand me Spitfire,” She said, and trotted around the steering wheel.

“I’m here to command,” she said, and slowly dropped herself into the captains chair.

Spitfire was shocked into silence, and her glance darted from First Class, to her guards, and back again.

“This operation has personal significance for me, Spitfire. I don’t just want Chrysalis dead, I want to know I had a part in doing it. If I can manage it, I’ll be the one that lands the final blow as well,” First Class said, and crossed her legs as she settled into position.

“Is that a problem?” 

Spitfire looked again at the guards, who only looked back at her steely gazes. Clearly unable to fight this, she gave up.

“Fine, but why call me here then? If you’re going to lead this whole thing, why did you call me back from the south?”

First Class grinned, and stood back up to face Spitfire.

“Because I want you to know who’s in charge, and I want everyone else to know too. When they all see Air Martial Spitfire, greatest Pegasus of our time, taking orders from a mare that didn’t even graduate from the academy, they’ll know too. Don’t you remember, Spitfire? You kicked me out, humiliated me in front of my friends,” she said, and stood muzzle-to-muzzle with Spitfire.

“I’m returning the favour.” 

———

Wildcard wasted no time collecting Silver Shield from the hospital. He was still in bad shape, and  it would be weeks before he had full-use of his right leg again, but Wildcard needed all hooves on deck. He explained his plan as they trotted down the street, while Silver did his job and fired a magical green flare over the City of Canterlot. All of Equestria would see it, specifically the scattered loyalist changelings. Or, Loyalist relative to Equestria anyway. Relative to Chrysalis they were violent rebels, revolutionaries, and usurpers of Her Highness's throne.

Well, not quite the latter yet, but soon. Very soon…

By the time the pair arrived at the train station, Silver Shield had been fully briefed. They waited inside the terminal for their fellows to arrive, taking generic pony disguises for themselves and then slowly over the next few hours a trickle of assorted ponies became a torrent, until in the early evening the terminal was full of a few hundred ponies, all looking utterly confused and trying to remain unnoticed by the rest. Wildcard found it quite funny to watch, an entire room of changelings undercover trying to fit into the crowd. Some decided to read newspapers, those that had arrived together talked amongst themselves in the shadows- which had become quite crowded now- and the braver ones simply strolled around. 

After a few minutes Silver Shield poked him, and pointed at the crowd with a frown on his face. Wildcard sighed, and shook his head, “you just hate fun, don’t you?” he groaned.

Silver slapped him on the back of the head, and Wildcard shot out of his seat. All eyes turned to him, and he dropped his disguise with a shimmer of green light.

“You can stop pretending now, you know,” he said.
There was silence as the changelings all looked at one another, and then the bolder ones dropped their disguises as well. After around a minute of green light flickering throughout the room, Wildcard found himself standing before the hundreds of changelings that had made Equestria their home. Mostly leaders that came here seeking fortune and the warriors that been taken as protection, but here and there a warrior stood separate, part of the military exchange from long ago that had since collapsed, or perhaps driven out of the hive by some personal failing.

These, Wildcard knew, were truly his people. Those that remained at the hive were already lost, and the most they could do was ease their passing. This would be the last “true” generation of changelings, and that was no sad loss. 

Wildcard stepped back, and stood on the bench he had been sitting on before, “well come closer everyone, I don’t bite!” he shouted down the hall.

They slowly formed up before him, and sat down on the floor. They all looked up to him for guidance and order, just as he had once looked up to Chrysalis and Medulla. Whatever he told them to do, none of them would question it. They knew it was in the best interest, whatever it was, and would follow his orders to their own ends if need be. That was their greatest strength, and their greatest weakness. That unquestioning loyalty made them an indomitable foe, but it was also the reason Chrysalis had been able to rule for so long. If they had only questioned more, and followed less; there would be no need for the mission they were going to undertake.

Wildcard spoke to his people, and only hoped he would prove their loyalty was entrusted with the right person.

“The day has come, everyling. The day that we have long feared, and hoped for anxiously, has come. We are going back to where we started, and we are going to end the long terrible reign of Chrysalis over us- forever. Chrysalis has stolen something dear to me, and I intend to get it back with your help, and ensure she can never again commit such evil!” he said, and buzzed up into the air.

“Chrysalis has stolen my child, my own foal! It was not enough for her to have stolen our foalhoods from all of us, and to keep us as her own personal slaves for generations, no, she had to take more!” he yelled, and could feel the shared rage below.

“She has lied to us, she has treated us like her property, and she has sent us to our deaths for no reason but to enhance her own vain power. She has had us commit atrocities in her name, and she has kept us from our true home! Equestria is our home, and freedom is our birthright! Chrysalis wants to take both of these from us, to keep us in the hive and to steal our own love! She wants us to live in fear of her, and the few that are still brainwashed and under her command. I ask you all, are we going to allow this to continue?” 

"No!" Was their collective cry in return.

“Good! Then follow me, and tonight we will strike back! Tonight we go back to where we were born, everyling, and tomorrow?” 

He paused for effect.

“We go home.”

And so he led them out of the terminal, and to an empty passenger train a ways down the tracks. It had been brought here earlier, and was loaded with the weapons Silver Shield had hoarded, as well as a good deal of explosives. Regardless of victory or defeat tomorrow, Wildcard would make damn sure Chrysalis was in no position to ever hurt anyone again. The changelings boarded the cars of the train, while a few dozen of them circulated the information that Silver Shield had told them. Wildcard and Silver approached the front of the train, where the conductor stood waiting with a rather short changeling warrior staring at him.

Wildcard strode up, looking curiously at the changeling, “Hey, gamma,” he said, and the changeling turned to him.

“I’m called Fang now,” he said in return.

“Right… Fang. Go get back with the others,” Wildcard ordered.

“I want to drive the train,” Fang said back.

Wildcard had been quite unprepared for such a blatant disregard for his order, and Silver Shield laughed to himself at his side.

“You want… to drive the train?” Wildcard asked.

Fang nodded, and Wildcard cocked his head at the conductor.

The pony shrugged at him, “It’s a train, it’s not all that hard to get from point A to B. The finesse is all in making it smooth, and getting the most out of the fuel you’re given. If you’re just going to haul plot to the hive or whatever, well a foal could probably drive the thing,” he said.

“So you can show… our friend here, how to drive?”

The driver shrugged again, and Fang wagged his tail.

Wildcard looked to Silver, who shrugged, and then shrugged himself.

“Fine, you can dr-“ 

Fang yipped in excitement, and scrambled up into the engine before letting Wildcard finish. 

“Hey uh…” the driver awkwardly scratched the back of his neck, clearly curious about something but not wanting to actually ask it.

“What? Get on with it we’ve got to get moving,” Wildcard said.

“You guys sure brought a lot of guns and explosives, you’re uh, going to do something about that queen of yours?” he asked.

“We most certainly are, my good sir,” Wildcard replied.

The pony clacked at the ground, “Well uh… I ain’t much for shootin’, but I can hold my own in a scrap. I would love to kick some bug plot, show that Queen who’s really in charge!” 

Wildcard wasn’t sure how to reply to that, but Silver was “you want to come with us?” he asked.

The pony nodded.

“Sure, why the hell not? Just don’t expect any special treatment. We’ve got plenty of guns, but you’re on your own when the shit hits the fan,” Silver told him. 

“Oh, don’t you worry about me!” the conductor said excitedly, “yeehaw! I’m going on a bug hunt!” he added, and quickly darted up into the engine.

Wildcard cocked his head at Silver, “Are you… sure about that?” 

Silver shrugged, and started trotting off towards the other train cars, “What’s the harm in another fighter? Worst case scenario he dies a hero,” he said.

Wildcard followed him to the caboose, where Silver had his elite warriors waiting. They were definitely a sight to behold, all those green eyes seemed to stare right through you, and they were clad in the experimental armour stolen from Southrop-Grumman. They had those automatic rifles too, and could probably take on a good chunk of the Equestrian Legion by themselves. 

While Wildcard geared up himself, the train shuddered into motion, and they started on their way. Wildcard only wore a thin fatigue jacket, and clipped a pistol to his leg. Hopefully he wouldn’t see too much direct combat. 

Once he was done, Silver prodded him, and offered him a black combat vest. It was moderately heavy, and the pockets bulged out from something inside.

“What’s this?” Wildcard asked.

“What does it feel like? I for one am not going to let them take me alive if we fail. Either we succeed, or the entire race ends right here,” Silver said.

Wildcard opened one of the velcro pockets, and was greeted by a stick of dynamite. 

“Sweet Luna, Silver, you can’t be serious. Suicide vests? Are you that doubtful that this will work?” Wildcard asked.

“No, but you said it yourself- this can’t go on. Chrysalis can’t be allowed to use us as her slaves, not anymore. Either we defeat her, and come back to Equestria a free people,” he said, and again offered Wildcard the vest, “or we don’t come back at all.”

Wildcard stared at the vest, and considered Silver’s wisdom. He thought back to what he had done for Chrysalis, and what he had seen her do to others. He looked at Silver, and the dozen elite changelings behind him, and noticed that they weren’t wearing armour at all, the vests simply looked like it.

So he put it on, and watched Canterlot fade into the background from the window. For the first time, he wasn’t sure if he would see it again.
> Ballad of Wildcard IV
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

	Malgavian took flight into the cold night sky as a blizzard raged in the valley below, and the moonlight from the cloudless sky far above Canterlot reflected off it. It almost looked like an ocean of grey water, sparkling in the moonlight, and was rather beautiful. 

Beauty could wait however. A few hundred more armoured thestrals flew around him, their armour quite-purposefully not glinting in the moonlight. Infact that armour was as devoid of shine as the sky itself, save for a few glitters here and there. It served its purpose, and they could fly mere metres over a pony without them noticing. If you have ever felt an odd breeze on your back on a dark night...

Malgavian grinned, and took in a deep breath of the crisp nights air. It was cold, dreadfully so, possibly even lethally so, but that same armour would keep them just warm enough to live. No energy wasted on comfort, but they could brave a hostile environment such as the ice of winter, or the lava fields of the dragon nests, and come out unscathed- by the elements anyway.

They flew up into the sky, and together paused high over Canterlot in simple appreciation of the full moon that watched over them. They all sang a soft prayer to it, the words to which had long lost any meaning, before continuing on. It was Malgavian's idea to do so. He would rebuild the Night Guard by returning the thestrals to their roots. He would bring them back, for their future.

Their prayer complete, they spread out and flew south like a dagger in the night, silently speeding toward the back of their enemies. Malgavian looked around as they went, always paying careful attention to his surroundings. A thestral could see as well in night as in day, and could even use echolocation in absolute darkness. Tonight that wasn't needed, and the thin moonlight was enough to see the world below. Dozens of Legion outposts, the tired observers blind to what was happening above, flew past below.  Appleloosa approached them, and he took a good look while they flew over. The town had been abandoned a while ago when weather control had been torn away from it, and the sands of the south desert, once exiled by magic, quickly returned to where they had been. All that remained of a once proud orchard was the sticks that were the remains of dead trees, and most of the buildings in the town itself had already collapsed. Sand covered it all, and within months there wouldn't even be that scant evidence that ponies had ever been there.

The desert below, like rest of the world, was returning to natural order. To Malgavian, it was only a sign of a much larger problem. With the power of the Princesses waning, he had to secure his people a future without them, one where they couldn't rely on the motherly Princess of the Night to look out for them. They had to prove to the Equestrians why they deserved to be given watch over the night, a task that had been harried by the treason of that great institutions former commander. The sand was coming in, but Malgavian still saw hope. A great many didn't, and had quit the Night Guard to take civil positions. Even they came tonight, as the call to honour spoke to something deep within the Thestral mind. Tonight they would be as their ancestors were, tonight they would be the silent force for justice; untold in the great myths, but with feats of bravery passed from word of mouth as if legendary. Tonight he would show them who they were, and then they could show the Equestrians. 

If they failed, then it would be the end of the legends. It would be a more fitting death than had been decreed by the politicians in Canterlot, who sought to destroy the Thestral race by disarming and deconstructing the Night Guard. What they didn't understand is that the Night Guard /was/ the Thestral Race. If the Night Guard was to die, then the Thestrals would die with it. It was only fitting. So tonight that would be decided. Either they would emerge heroic victors, or they would die valiantly in battle. Either way, they would be honoured tomorrow. 

When the changeling hive finally came into view on the horizon- rather obvious with the beams of spotlights waving into the sky in some vain attempt to secure it, the dagger formation of thestrals shifted, and squadrons of ten formed out of it. They knew their objectives, and each would independently pursue them. 

The Changeling Hive looked like an impressive defensive bulwark, with fifty-meter stone walls outside the main building complex, and four gigantic flak-towers on each corner. The circular towers were topped with guns large enough to be visible from far away, and holes alongside the walls hide even more weaponry. Spotlights on top pierced the sky, alert for any obvious intruders. On the ground, and inside the courtyard, more lights highlighted dozens of changeling flags. The courtyard itself was full of tents, tents which Malgavian knew had housed a few hundred refugees. The loyal changelings would have arrived earlier, and sent them home.  At the far end of that courtyard, the fortress itself was dark, and invisible to the untrained eye in the moonlight.

He could see it though, and as two of his best- Helm and Carina- took his flanks, he flew directly towards it. 

Carina swooped over him, and flew up to speak, "So this is it? The final hurrah? We're not going back home, are we?" 

Malgavian spared her a glance, "No. Our mission is to attack the fortress head on, to divert the changelings and confuse their response. There will be no going back, no withdrawing, and no support. Our forces need as much time as they can get."

Helm cocked his gun on his side for effect. He had personally modified one of the automatic rifles, adding a bayonet that was more like a sword- the sharp steel ran along the entire bottom of the weapon, making it a rather deadly blunt instrument if used that way.

"Dying in glorious combat with evil monsters, it's what I always wanted. Father would be proud," he said.

Carina had been more practical, and simply took a barrel off one of the 12.7 Wonderbolt guns. It was still heavy, but she could wield it well, and a backpack full of ammunition fed into it. 

Malgavian had forsaken anything modern, and took with him Dusk's own sword. He wore her armour as well, and could feel her blood in his veins. She had stood up to Sombra, and defeated him in single combat so badly that he was forced to abandon his physical form. If Malgavian could do half as much damage to Chrysalis, he would die happy.

He took another deep breath, and then unsheathed that sword from his back. The trio swooped over the walls of the Changeling Hive with their weapons at hoof, and flew directly for a pair of changeling sentries visible near the giant wooden doors of the fortress. Malgavian tackled the first from the air, and impaled him on his sword using the velocity. Helm and Carina made short work of the other, a combination of 12.7 to the head, and a slash to the chest, dropped him like a sack of apples.

Before they could breathe, an alarm pierced the air and they were bathed in the incredible light of several spotlights. Green eyes stared at them from all around, and ran at them without pause. Carina and Helm started shooting, halting the changeling charge for the moment.

"Go inside, we'll hold them here!" Carina shouted.

Malgavian didn't need to be told twice, and with a wordless gesture of thanks, he pulled open the huge wooden door, and ran into the fortress lobby. Two changelings dove at him, but were far too slow for his skill. He leaped forward into the air, and spun with his sword, slashing downwards in a spiral forwards, cutting the two surprised guards at their necks. 

Without pause, he galloped down the hall, and ran into a tall open space. He took wing from here, and shot straight up towards the highest level of the fortress, while guards desperately tried to shoot the nearly spectral form. One of the shots managed to connect, and Malgavian grunted with pain as he felt a stinging sensation on his side. 

A quick glance at his armour proved the wound superficial. Perhaps a problem an hour from now, but he had no hopes of living that long. Finally at the top of the chamber, he shot into the only doorway leading out, and was then forced to gallop on hoof since the hallway was so tight. A surprised guard at the end, a dozen metres away, fired a quick shot with his rifle. It would be the only shot he would manage, as Malgavian threw the sword with deadly precision, and stabbed the changeling between his green eyes. The speeding thestral quickly caught up, and pulled his blade out of the changelings cranium. The creature thumped to the floor, and Malgavian looked onward to see two more. These two had blue eyes, and armour. They watched him with calculating eyes, and left their arms holstered.

"You have no chance," one of them said, "there are too many of us, and the Queen is strong. You will die unless you give up."

Malgavian slowly trotted forward, sword in hoof. "I plan on it, changeling. Do you know what your queen has done? Do you have any idea the sort of monster that hides behind that door?" he said, and pointed the sword towards the door they guarded.

"She does what is best for us," the changeling said, and then they both drew their guns.

"Now st-"

Malgavian charged, and the changelings clearly hadn't expected him to. They took two quick shots before forced to dive out of the way as he leaped at them, and slashed forward with his sword. He missed, and his sword clanged against the stone wall. The changelings were quick to recover, and rolled over to shoot from the floor. He leaped to the side, and hit the wall hard enough to knock the breath out of him for the moment, but dodged their shots. Then he dove forward, and slashed at the terrified blue eyes of one of the changelings, while the other ran down the hallway. 

When Malgavian looked up, covered in green blood from his most recent enemy, he found the other changeling had some support, 3 of the green eyed ones stood behind him, and fired their weapons.

Malgavian was hit twice, and his arm became numb. He quickly picked up the sword with his other, and forced himself against the door. Naturally, it was locked. 

So he pulled the cord on the explosive satchel on his back, and ran down the hallway as fast as his injured hooves could take him. Breathing was hard now, and before he rounded the corner another bullet hit his leg, splashing the black stone wall with red blood. 

He dove down, and cowered for the expected explosion. Instead, silence. He raised his head in confusion, and heard the door creak open.  a tall figure strode out, and Malgavian suddenly felt some great force crushing him. His limbs became useless, and the air was forced out of his lungs. All he could see were two thin holed-legs trotting slowly towards him.

The figure stopped before him, and forcibly rolled him over. His breath came in shallow gasps as his wound continued bleeding, and his vision began to fade. He could tell crystal-clear who was standing over him though: Chrysalis.

"Fool," she said, in her odd insect accent, "I am your superior, did you really think you could hurt me? I am a god, and you are but an ant," she sneered, and placed a heavy hoof on his chest.

She looked back, and another figure, trotted into view. He held an almost-comically large hoof-cannon that seemed almost as big as he was, pointed straight at Malgavian. While Chrysalis' eyes seemed like almost pure evil, as if they radiated hatred of everything, his seemed purely apathetic. He looked for all the world like a machine doing its best to prove it had a soul.

Malgavian tried to say something, but could only vomit blood. His vision faded to black, and he released himself to the void. 

"Oh, I'm not going to let you go that easy..."  a feminine voice sneered, and he felt himself pulled back into a dark nothing.

-----

While Malgavian burst into the changeling fortress, Carina and Helm held their ground, back to back. Changelings approached from all directions, abandoning their useless guns- the armour the pair wore was shrugging aside the rare round that hit them- and charging with their rifles held like clubs. Carina's gun blazed forward, lighting herself up with the fire from it's gun, and filling her nostrils with the smell of war. It thrilled her to her core, and she yelled a war cry and snarled at the charging horde as she cut them down by the handful. Even despite their losses, they continued charging over their fallen, ignoring them in their one-minded attack.

Helm held his own ground, firing his assault rifle in accurate bursts. He quickly ran out of ammunition though, and held it aloft to defend himself.

Carina glanced back at him, and noticed the belt feeding from her saddlebag was nearing the end. 

When it did, there was silence, and darkness. The only sound was the repetitive screech of the siren that had become like white noise, and the only light was the spotlight on them. The two could only watch as a hundred green eyes slowly moved up on them, and dozens more looked down from the air. While those eyes were blind to it, Carina and Helm saw their ruse had worked, as swarms of thestrals were quickly flying into the flak towers, and flash's of gunfire from within followed.

Carina's hoof shot to her back, and she gripped a dangling ripcord.

"Helm..."

"Yeah?"

"It's been an honour."

Carina pulled the cord, and closed her eyes. The changelings had no idea what was to come as they approached.

Nothing happened.

"It's a dud?!" Carina exclaimed, opening her eyes just before being hit by a pole arm and fading to black.

----

Even without their leader, the thestrals did what they had set out to do, and flew off silently back into the night with their tasks complete. The explosives they had set were timed to go off a few minutes after, and a few others scattered around were delayed for hours to deny the Changelings any sleep. 

Indeed, they would sleep forever.

Unbeknownst to them, Princess Luna had watched this all from high above. She was, perhaps, the only person that could elude a thestral at night, and had done so on this night to see her children of the night at their best. While others feared the thestrals, she loved them. She had never had a foal herself, instead it was these once-mythical ponies that she had taken under her wing. Like any child however, they were not perfect, but even so- she forgave. To see them riding to do such just work, knowing they would have no hope of rescue, or heroic return, bouyed her heart. If there was no place for them in the new world order, then that was the worlds own loss.

She flew off amongst them, just another black figure in the night, and searched for their leader and his two companions. 

When she didn't find him, she dropped out of the air, and looked back to the blazing changeling hive in the distance. 

Somehow, she knew he wasn't dead. There were ways to check, using magic, but even without that she could feel it deep inside. Malgavian was alive, and if the thestrals were to have any hope, it was under his leadership.

Perhaps, she thought, he was a worthy mate before her departure from this world. Perhaps, perhaps not. In any case, she would have to rescue him. Both for the thestral people, and for herself. There was something there, something in his soul that called out to her. She wanted to know what it was. 

He was a better match than Flankenstein at any rate, and the clock was ticking. 

-----------------------

When morning came, Shining Armour stood outside the command tent. They had re-located to Appleloosa earlier under the cover of darkness, and set up a command and control position, along with a defensive trench should it come to that. The town itself was, sadly, a total ruin. Totally run over by sand, and strategically useless. The weather today was, as expected when starting any battle,  terrible. A cold wind blew from the north and kicked up sand obscuring their vision, slowing them down markedly.

Before he could sip at the steaming mug of tea before him, a gust of wind blasted some sand at him, and got a good handful in his tea. Shining rolled his eyes, and dumped it out before ducking back inside the command tent. Inside a few signallers prepared the radios, and a few officers had their breakfast.

"Hell of a start to the day," he groaned, and refilled his cup.

"You don't know the half of it," Sandstorm said, sitting at a table before two standard rations.

Shining sat down across from him, and shifted one over to himself. He grinned as the large stallion flinched with displeasure, "Please, enlighten me."

Sandstorm picked up a salt shaker, and sprinkled it over his eggs. "It's the sand. Armour, the damn sand has disabled half my tanks, it's gotten in everything. The other half are only working because the factory covers were still on them."

Shining rubbed his temple, "So we're down to half strength for tanks?" he asked.

Sandstorm nodded.

"Do you have any idea how ironic your name is?"

Sandstorm nodded.

Shining sighed, "Fine, the tanks were only brought along for insurance anyway, it'll be more an infantry battle than anything. You do what you can and, for Celestia's sake, clear up the other ones and get covers on them." Shining ordered.

Sandstorm nodded again, and went back to eating his meal. Shining was rather famished himself, and took his fill as well. Soon they would move out, but first they were waiting for a signal that the refugees had been sent home safely They should have received it last night,  and set out this morning, but they still hadn't. They hadn't heard anything actually, not from home or the Changeling vanguard.

Ten thousand ponies, fifty tanks, and fifty Wonderbolts awaited that signal. He finally named this operation as well, and they were all eager to get started.

Operation Bugspray

-----------------------

Spitfire paced the bridge of the Ace in the Hole high above, waiting for the same signal Shining Armour was. She paced because her seat was occupied by a blue pegasus mare, who stared outside as if looking for divine inspiration from the swirling grey clouds.

A sound, like tapping, came from the radio. The mare listening there quickly jotted down a message, and spun around to deliver it.

"Report from Vanhoover ma'am, scouts are reporting an odd naval buildup outside the city. No flags."

Spitfire halted, totally not expecting such information.

"No flags? Tell them to inspect this closer, it could just be Zebras moving south," First Class said, sniping Spitfire's own response.

She would have said the same thing, but she still frowned and swallowed some anger at it. That was her job!

"Yes ma'am" the signaler said, and clacked out the response.

Spitfire returned to her pacing, and First Class returned to her staring.

"It's almost 0800, shouldn't we have the signal by now?" one of the bridge crew, a nameless cadet, wondered.

"We should, but nothing ever goes right in war," Spitfire noted.

First Class sighed, and tapped the armrest of her chair.

"Signal Shining Armour, order him to move out," she said.

Spitfire halted again, "We haven't received the signal yet, what if the refugees are still in the hive!?" she questioned.

First Class calmly turned her seat around, and looked down on Spitfire.

"Then my husband is dead, and I will raze the entire hive to the ground on my own orders. Chrysalis must be stopped, they are casualties of war," she responded.

Spitfire had no real response, and just incredulously starred up at the mare, who quickly turned and faced the signaller.

"Send. The. Order." she demanded.

The operator swallowed, and nodded. She tapped out the message quickly, "done, ma'am."

"Good," First Class said, and turned back to face the window.

"Ahead slow, I want us to arrive about an hour before the land forces so we can line up targets, and destroy any large formations. Launch the Wonderbolt wing and have them screen at two kilometres ahead, they are to report any enemies- but not to engage unless ordered. Am I understood?"

"Yes ma'am," they all, including Spitfire, said. Spitfire felt something that she never had before when she heard those words delivered so powerfully, to her, as an order. 

She was terrified. First Class knew what she wanted, and no amount of blood or fire could stop her. The mare would destroy the world if it meant getting her way.

And she was in charge.

------------------------------------------

Shining Armour choked on a mouthful of eggs, as a private delivered the message behind him.

"Whaff?"

The private took a breath, and repeated, "We are ordered to depart immediately."

Shining looked at Sandstorm, who had somehow found another ration.

He just shrugged, and wiped some crumbs off himself before standing, "Maybe they got the signal otherwise. I'll get my tanks moving." he said, and smartly fitted his cap to his head.

Shining got up too, and pushed past the private out into the cold air outside. All around him thousands of soldiers loitered and tried to burn time, and he took a deep breath to call them all to action.

"Attention! You've got your orders, it's time to move out! Full combat load, you all know your formations and units!" He shouted, and the ponies around him leapt into action as he strode forward.

"Check your guns and make sure you keep the damn sand out, you aren't going to live to regret it later!" he added, "Now get moving!"

Move they did. The largest single collection of arms Equestria had ever fielded, bouyed by their best Wonderbolts above, and protype armour amongst them. Ten thousand ponies, all eager to fight for Equestria, and show the bugs who was in charge around here. Even with such massive force, Shining was still concerned. If there was any enemy that was likely to have something up its sleeve, it was the changelings. If Chrysalis had gotten word to the southern armies of the Griffons, then they could be sending reinforcements. Laying siege to the Hive, and then being attacked by a Griffonic force, was a terrifying prospect. They would be forced to flee, and would lose anything they had gained.

Shining Armour waited in the command tent, in the now abandoned staging area, with a handful of signallers keeping tabs on things. He yearned to be at the front, but knew that was impossible. The calculus of war was simple in its apathy: he was simply worth more than they were, too much to risk losing. It used to be that the commander was also the most trained, and would be the most protected in their armour. Now a stray bullet could easily knock off whoever was leading things, and then the entire army would collapse. 

He /hated/ that. Every minute he stayed here, while his men fought and died out there, he felt guilty. A guilt he would bear forever, his sacrifice to keep Equestria safe. 

-------------------

Wildcard paced in the train as it rumbled slowly down the line. Any minute now they would reach the border, and the loyalty of those with him would be tested for the first time. Changelings guarded that border, and they would have to be killed so as no warning could be sent back home. 

The train stopped, and Wildcard stopped as well. He held his breath as he heard muffled speaking outside.

Then he heard a series of gunshots, followed by silence. The blinds had been drawn for secrecy, and he wished he could see what was going on.

Hoofsteps outside approached, and Wildcard thumbed his pistol, while the others hefted their own weapons. For a moment, it seemed like all time paused.

If they were against him, a shot to the back of the head would end his coup before it really even started.. There was no way to be totally sure, and the next seconds would prove it. What if Silver Shield had planned this all to knock him off and prove allegience to Chrysalis? What if one of those elites was a traitor? What if she had somehow known, and his own men were already dead? Who would open that door, friend or foe?

*BANG*

The door slammed open, blown in by the wind, and Wildcard gasped with anxious surprise at the loud bang. Sweat trickled down his forehead, and a green-eyed changeling leaned in.

"The border is secure."

Wildcard released his breath, and flopped against the side of the train-car as the train itself rumbled back into motion. He gasped for breath, and wiped the sweat from his brow. Pulling off coups added years to ones life, he realized. 

Silver noticed Wildcard's relief, and laughed, "did you really doubt us?" 

Wildcard lulled his head to the side to face him, "of course I did, doubting everything is what I do."

"Well..." Silver said, and glanced at the two changelings beside him. Almost imperceptibly, they nodded, and looked back to Wildcard.

"... you were right," Silver finished, and raised his rifle.

Wildcard's eyes grew wide with surprise, and he scrambled up with his gun drawn. He fired immediately, but found he had been given blanks. Horrified, he stared at Silver Shield. His face seemed suddenly evil, sneering at him while the useless smoke drifted up from Wildcard's gun.

To his surprise, while he stood in shock, Silver just laughed along with the two changelings beside him. He was quickly forced to the floor, rolling around laughing and gasping for air.

"Wildcard..." he gasped.

"...that was..."

"...too good!"

Wildcard tried to strangle him with sheer force of will alone, and was somewhat surprised to see Silver reach for his throat.

"Hey..." Silver stammered "... that's a cliche!"

Wildcard laughed himself, and released Silver from his magical clutches.

The remainder of their travelling went by without any major incident, but Wildcard's anxiety made the few hours seem to stretch into days.   All manners of horrible visions danced in his mind as he sat, checking and re-checking his gun. Medulla would be there, as would Chrysalis and an army of still-loyal changeling. All of this he would have to beat to save his daughter. He sighed, and let his mind settle on that for a few moments. He was going to war not for the vain glory of an evil Queen, not this time. He was going to fight to save his daughter, and his people, from her clutches. 

The belt under his uniform reminded him that there was truly no possibility for failure. It was somewhat relieving to feel the explosives there, and to know that even if he failed mortally, his force would carry out his victory and ensure that Chrysalis never again harmed another pony. 

Wildcard allowed himself to think, and pondered on why Chrysalis had chosen now. Why not wait until the foal was older, why now? She was most open to attack now, and it seemed absurd that she would be stupid enough to call down the wrath of Equestria just as it was at the height of military power. If she had waited a few weeks, Wildcard would probably be pressed into surface over the ocean. She's waited hundreds of years for her supposed return to Equestria, why rush things now? 

The pieces didn't fit. It was like he had two separate puzzles, but neither was complete. Perhaps he would find the answer when he arrived back home. It seemed almost like a third party had to be acting somewhere, but who, and for who?

The train clunked to a stop just as Wildcard was lining up leads. This had all been planned already, and he stepped out of the traincar disguised as a destitute Equestrian. They all were, and hundreds of malnourished looking ponies converged on the dozen or so changelings guarding the train depot amongst towering crates of military equipment. Tracks in the slushy snow made a path away from the train itself to a gate in the metal fence surrounding the depot, and one by one they were all checked by a bored looking Changeling sentry. He did little more than a quick look-over of them, they had no reason to suspect anything from these ponies. Even if they did, this sloppy guard was unlikely to notice or care if they brought alicornium under their coats.

So Wildcard marched on within the line of his comrades, invisible in the crowd. They all went towards the market stalls and shanty-houses in the centre of the fortress courtyard. Wildcard couldn't help but shudder as the giant black buildings surrounding the courtyard seemed to loom up and look down at him, alongside the hundreds of changelings going about their business all around. If his cover was blown, or any of the others, he would be dead in an instant. It was a blessing that Malgavian had come early and made contact with the refugees, they were well aware that they needed to be ready to leave if needed, and advised of the consequences of not doing so. 

Wildcard's destination was a tent near the middle of it all, wherein a pony named Frosteye had made his living over the last few months enchanting, and selling, crystal balls. Wildcard threw open the flaps of the tent and entered, seeing the beauty of them for himself. Dozens of crystal orbs, all showing a snowy landscape in miniature; complete with pegasi flying in the slowly drifting snowfall. The pony quickly made him, and coughed to get Wildcard's attention.

"Been a while since we got any 'questrians, what can I do you for?" he asked.

Wildcard quickly made sure it was the right pony. Light coat, unicorn, cutie-mark of a crystal ball... it was all there. He abandoned his disguise and trotted forward, Frosteye only tilting his head at him.

"I think it's time you got a tan, Frosteye. You need more sun in your life," Wildcard said.

Frosteye flopped his head on the table before him, jingling the dozen or so spheres atop it. "Oh finally, I was thinking I would be stuck in this mudpit forever. Sweet Celestia it's going to be nice to get home," he said, and then lifted himself up and started placing his wares in a bag.

"So uh, how's this going to work?" he asked, while Wildcard absent-mindedly gazed into one of the orbs.

"Just go to the train station, if the guard asks any questions, you're from Equestria and you got here this morning. I need you out by noon, and take only what you can carry," Wildcard replied, entranced by the globe.

"Darn, I'll have to leave most of it. I 'spose it's worth it to see sunbutt again though."

Wildcard smirked and turned back, but the pony was gone. Wildcard was left with a tent full of ornaments. He sat behind the desk and continued staring into one, and waited for Silver Shield to deliver his report- hopefully that all was well. 

A half hour later Wildcard heard the train whistle, which startled him since it was a full hour early. Not a good sign...

The sound of armoured hoofsteps outside wasn't either, and Wildcard took a deep breath as his hoof went to the gun at his thigh. The hoofsteps halted as he unholstered his gun and held it under the table.

Two changelings entered, and his eyes went wide with horrified surprise as time seemed to stop, and his breath held in his throat.

Chrysalis, covered with thick pointed silver armour, and Medulla. He wore his own set, and one of those heavy-guns the Marines use sticking out from his side. 

Wildcard wasted no time, and immediately threw the table over to begin shooting. Chrysalis was too fast though, and the gun was wrenched from his hoof before he could even raise it to face her. In the blink of an eye he was held against the ground, crushed by a huge force on his back. 

"Back so soon, Ambassador?" Chrysalis sneered.

Wildcard tried desperately to reach the ripcord at his back that he knew would end it all, but the force was too much. 

"He has a bomb on him, my Queen. Thankfully we knew full well his traitorous ambitions, and replaced the explosives with duds long before he got here. There were a few deaths on the border, but our agent came through expertly."

"Agent?!" Wildcard muttered, his face crushed against the muddy floor.

"Didn't it seem odd how much that train driver wanted to go into a warzone? We've had agents in your group since the start. You can't seriously have thought we didn't."

"The Equestrians are still coming, give up now or they'll..." 

The force drew back, and then slapped Wildcard's head against the ground.

"Destroy us? Please, they'll do nothing. The pathetic fools will halt and negotiate, and while they waste time- afraid to spill a little blood- my allies in the Griffon Army will arrive. We won, "Wildcard", and you're going to watch," Chrysalis boasted, and lifted him into the air.
> Dialogue: Sunburn
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

	Princess Celestia had come in the night, stealthily as could be, and anxiously trotted down the stone stairs of the Changeling mausoleum. Every noise by her hooves seemed loud enough to wake the dead in the still night, and that she had been forced to come alone added to the tension. She knew it was vain to try and talk sense into the changeling commander, but by the Sun she had to try. At the very least maybe she could give him some disinformation, or drag some information out of him.

It was risky of course, incredibly risky, to be out here like this. Celestia could hold her own, but she was still made of flesh and blood. If the changelings had prepared a trap, they could overwhelm her. It would not be easy, but it was possible. 

Celestia blinked, trying to force her eyes to adjust to the dark, and felt dirt below her hooves as she entered the bottom of the depression. A few dozen short stone objects- tombstones- lay ahead of her. She shuddered at the creepy vibe of this place. To think that Chrysalis cared to little for her "people" that she had abandoned the gravesite of her original followers, and her lover, said a lot about the mare.

There was a sound, from somewhere, and Celestia immediately flapped her wings out and surrounded herself with a golden force-field. It's light spread through the deep pit, and the tombstones created long shadows along the walls. Between two shadows, looking right at her, was a single figure. 

The black coat of a changeling, except with red eyes. They looked back at her, and he smirked. "Startled you did I? You're easily scared Princess, but what on this Earth could possibly harm a god?" he asked, and slowly trotted to the side, vanishing into the dark again.

"I am not god, Medulla, and neither is your "queen". This madness of hers will lead you all to your deaths, can't you see it?" Celestia pleaded.

"Not a god?" Medulla asked, and walked back into the light. "Really? I think you underestimate myself. Is a god not defined by those that worship them? You, Celestia, are a god to a great many ponies. They would die for you as quickly as take a breath, and they would kill for you quicker. You could rule the world if you chose to. You could end this war in minutes, and save thousands of lives. You're a fool not to."

"I... I can't. I can't use my powers like that, not even if it means losing Equestria." 

"Why?"

"It would be wrong! I have no right to judge the fate of the world!"

Medulla snorted, "And we do? Why not? Take over, rule the world, judge as you see fit. It would be a better world than the chaos currently. Now, I suppose you're here to try and convince me to turn against Chrysalis, aren't you?"

Celestia squinted at him, the answer was obvious.

"I refuse, and I will always refuse, because unlike you- Chrysalis knows what she is. She is a god, and she will rule the world. Us changelings, as her chosen people, will remake it in her image! There will be peace, and there will be equality! We will be all the same, we will all be her servants. Unlike you, Chrysalis isn't a coward.

Celestia flinched slightly at the bite of the changelings tongue. "You're not even a changeling, you're a pony! Deep down inside you know that!" 

"I know!" Medulla yelled, in a surprising display of emotion. "I know I am! I live with this disfigurement every day of my life!" he continued, and strode back into the light- staring up at Celestia with his eyes.

"I am less for it, and yet Chrysalis is kind enough to allow me to serve her. What would I be in pony society? An outcast? A fiend? She raised me as her own, while you turned a blind eye when I was kidnapped! I never met my father, I never will meet my father! You condemmed me the day I was born by refusing to rescue me, and that says all I need to know about your great Equestria. If it isn't a pony, Equestria hates it. The Thestrals cower in the mountain, the few zebras live as hermits, and the Griffons live in slums. All of it is ruled by tyrant alicorns, above and blind. I would die for Chrysalis, if it means ending your reign!"

Celestia paused, somewhat in shock. She was clearly losing this argument, but she pressed on anyway. "No, she's lied! You would have been accepted into our society as a friend!"

Medulla snorted again. "Friends are not equals, Celestia. Friendship is just another way for you to rule. Oh you're all friends, and friends are loyal to each other, but some friends are the ones giving orders. Friends are tools, to be used and discarded when they stop being useful. Friendship is just a trading alliance between two people. It's just a way for you to enforce your reign.  Your friendship is slavery."

Celestia blinked.

"You're either evil, or too dumb to see what you've built for what it really is. Equestria is an insular, hateful, slave colony. You are the slavemaster, and Luna is your whip. This is why I hate you Celestia, this is really why. You think you're better than Chrysalis, you think you have some sort of moral right to lead, but do you really? You lead because you have power over the sun, not because you are any better. You lead through force, yet you are too stupid to even see it, and too shameful to admit it. You lead in the same way Chrysalis does, you're just worse at it, and better at hiding it."

Celestia blinked.

"No answer? Exactly. Perhaps I have taught you something," he said, and strode forward in the light, his own shadow growing behind him. "If you come to the hive, you will either die, or you will be forced to kill us all. We will not surrender, we will not give up, and we will not give in. I will force you to see how evil you really are if it takes my own blood to do it!" 

With that, the changeling darted up into the air, and vanished into the night sky before Celestia could react. She stood there for a time, thinking.
> Ballad of Wildcard V
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Wildcard stirred, and then finally awoke. He wasn’t sure where he was, all he could see with his tired eyes was darkness. The stone floor was cold, and his body felt like a bag of potatoes that had fallen off a truck; bruises, everywhere. He wasn’t sure if it was preferable being dead.

He moaned and rolled on his stomach, wiggling on the ground and trying to physically get his bearings. He felt a chain, which apparently clung to his leg and attached him to the floor. He also felt what appeared to be a wooden “bed” attached to a stone wall, and a door. Why he wasn't on the bed, he had no idea.

Granted it made little difference.

He was pretty sure, considering what his groggy brain remembered, where he was:

Chrysalis’ Dungeon.

Wildcard knew that that meant. He knew his failure. He laid back on the floor, his sore and bruised back cooled by the stone and somewhat relieved. He had failed. His eagerness and hasty planning had cost him victory, and Luna knew what else might have happened while he was out.

He spent what felt like days thinking in the dark, alone and in the deafening silence. As time went on he became hungry, and his mind conjured images in the darkness that terrified him. Eventually he wasn’t sure if his eyes were open or closed, all he knew was darkness. He swore he heard voices in the dark; they taunted him.

He heard his wife, her voice was soft and yet piercing, and every syllable dug into his skull as if she was stabbing him.

“You’re a failure, Wildcard. You knew that our foals life was in on the line, but you failed anyway. You’re a lazy loser, and I never loved you.”

He heard Luna. Her voice was loud, booming, and felt like it would shake his body apart.

“You’re a failure, Wildcard. You knew Equestria needed you, but you failed anyway. You’re a pathetic and foolish leader, I regret putting my faith in you.”

This continued for hours, and he weeped quietly as his soul was trampled on with repeated insult. It was torture, and he screamed as loud as he could to drown it out- but still he heard them. He screamed until his throat bled, and he cried until his eyes hurt, but still it kept up.

“You were a bad friend,” Flankenstein said, again.

Then, oddly, he heard Luna again. Her voice was too soft to make out, but she seemed to be arguing with someone else. The other voice was sharp, and while this went on the door creaked open. A blinding white light poured in, and Wildcard pulled against his chain as he crawled towards it. 

He pulled against his chain and, to his surprise, broke it. Then he was flung out of the room, and into a white void. A voice spoke in his head, that of Princess Luna.

“This failure can yet be reversed, Wildcard. Fight while you still can.”

Then he woke up, to the sound of the door jostling in its place. He perked up his ears and could hear noises outside, faint gunshots and rumbling explosions. He sighed, and waited.

A rather close explosion blew the door back and knocked him back into that black abyss.


____


Princess Celestia desperately fought to keep herself from crying, keeping a strong image for her people was important during a crisis, and especially when faced with such horror as this.

She looked from the balcony of the school baring her name, across the city; to a billowing cloud of flame that was spewing fire and ash all over the once peaceful metropolis. The refugee train had arrived hours ago.Their families had been waiting at the station, desperate to see loved ones that had been taking shelter in the Hive.

The train had been rigged with enough explosives to destroy everything in a three-block radius. Hundreds had perished instantly, and thousands more were injured. Entire families had been wiped out, and once again the city was brought to its knees. 

There were no panicked crowds this time though, no screaming masses trying to run away. Elsewhere in the city business continued, even while sirens blared and emergency services strained to take care of the wounded. Canterlot had become used to violence, and that thought sent a terrified shiver down her spine. 

Ponies were used to death now, it was a weekly affair. The military losses had slipped back from the first, to the second, pages in the newspapers. Now they were somewhere after sports statistics. 

She shook her head and turned away in disgust. Disgust for what the world had become, and disgust for what Equestria was becoming. They were a peaceful people, a happy people, and now they knew the horrors of war. Equestria was finding itself rather adept at it as well, and she was certain a hundred changelings would perish for every Equestrian.

She sat on a pillow, and wished desperately for it to all just end. She would have to give an address soon, and calm the nations nerves. Not for their sake, but for the sake of the changelings. There was going to be blood.

And it was going to be green.

Luna meanwhile was busy. She had been asleep when the report was delivered to her by Malgavian, and it had taken quite a good bit of convincing to deny him the right of suicide. He thought he had failed, but that was untrue. 

Shining Armour had finally managed to arrive at the Changeling Hive an hour ago, and had faced fierce resistance from the Changeling gun-towers. All of them were still operational, the Night Guard’s valiant efforts last night were fruitless. Their explosives had been tampered with, as near as either of them could tell.

She should have slaughtered all of those damned shapeshifters when she had the chance, Luna fumed. She was angry, red-faced and screaming incoherent curses, while Malgavian stood at attention near the door. 

When she received word of the attack on Canterlot, her anger exploded literally, and the room burst open with a magical outburst. Malgavian’s armour was, thankfully, protected against such things, and he stood there stone faced while Luna panted for breath, surrounded by the ashes of what had recently been a bed and other furniture. 

“We’re going to kill them, every single one of them!” she yelled, and grabbed her crown before racing out of the room. 

“Assemble whoever is available, and arm them well! We are going to the hive, and we are going to ensure that Shining Armour takes no prisoners. This act of terror will not be taken lightly…” she said, and felt a prickling on the back of her head. 

She had not felt a prickle like that in quite some time, it was the curious feeling she felt when there was a disturbance in the pseudo-magical realm of dreams. Very few had the power to influence dreams, only three that she knew of. One was herself, another her sister, and the other...

“I have something to attend to… go on your own, I will catch up,” Luna commanded, and quickly darted back into her room. 

Without waiting for a response from Malgavian, she slammed the remains of her door up against the doorway, and her eyes shone as she entered a magical trance. The effect was such that her minds eye entered the world of dreams, she was adept enough at dream walking at this point in her life that she could do it while awake, but it still took a great deal of focus. 

The intrusion was rather obvious. Tendrils of green energy whipped into the void from a point some far away, and she guided her mind in that direction. Not many were sleeping right now, and the inky black fog that marked someones intervention in an others dream was obvious from anywhere. The green tendrils stabbed into it, emotional spikes being driven into someones mind without any mercy or compassion. She could feel the sadness, the despair, and the anger, as she approached. As fast as she could, desperate to save her subject from whatever Chrysalis was doing, she came upon the black void and swooped into it.

Luna made herself glow, a shining sphere of white in the inky darkness, as she searched for the source of the tendrils to fight it.

Chrysalis, a fool and out of her element, appeared as herself. Her entire mind was focused on this, and Luna knew she was straining to keep up. Dream walking was hard, and it had taken her centuries to become adept at it. Chrysalis was only centuries old, and as far as she knew had never done this before.

Part of Luna wanted to toy with her, but the rest of her knew time was of the essence. In the world of dreams she could have been tormenting her victim for what would seem like weeks, so she attacked her openly, shooting a dark blue bolt of magical energy directly at her, and then gripped her with a field of the same colour. 

“Vile fiend!” Luna shouted into her mind, tearing at her consciousness with her own, “Did you not think I would find you?!”

“Of course I did!” Chrysalis snarled back, her voice sharp and almost stinging with pure hate. “I wanted you to find me! Face me like a mare!” she yelled, and shot forth a green bolt of her own magic.

Luna dodged it easily, and painfully squeezed the black and green mutant with her own magic. Fear exuded from her, even as she snarled back.

“You will die for your crimes, Chrysalis,” Luna said, and put all her will into hurting the insect-like mare as much as possible. 

Luna pressed on, staring into Chrysalis terrified eyes as she squeezed her body as much as she could. Smaller bones cracked, and tears of pain dripped down her face.

Sadly, Luna wasn’t able to hold for for long, and Chrysalis body soon woke her up. She was no doubt injured, but only just. Luna sighed, and turned back into the black void. At it’s centre she found a black box, with a brown bolted door at one end. She opened it.

Inside, blue eyes looked back at her. The changeling, moderately larger than most, looked back at her with the look of a caged animal that had been tormented. He was shaking, and wet with his own tears.

Luna felt sorry for the former ambassador, tortured mentally for who knows how long by his former leader, and did what she could to sooth his body and mind. Soon he awoke, and the inky blackness vanished. 

Luna’s blinked her eyes, and bowed her head in reality. She had often taken that pony for granted, but what he had just gone through… no pony should have to endure that. 


____


First Class sat in the commanders chair of the Ace in the Hole, her hooves tented before her, and her eyes peering intently out the window. They were coming up on the Changeling hive, and one thing was apparent- a lack of smoke. If the Night Guard had done its duty, there should be a pillar of smoke ahead of them.

Instead the sky was cloudless, although a low fog and rolling sand-storm made it look like the air ship was sailing atop a billowing sea of grey. Below and behind them the Equestrian army moved forward on her command, which she was starting to have second thoughts about. She shook her head, and turned the chair to the side.

“Order Dash wing to perform close recon on the Hive,” she ordered.

Spitfire stood up at the first mates station, fuming, but kept her mouth shut as the order was relayed. First Class turned the chair to face her now, looking down on her from the heightened command station.

“Is there a problem, Martial?” First Class asked, the question sharp and sounding more a challenge than an interrogative.

Spitfire stared up at her. She was a smart pony, sharp as a whip, but politics was a puzzle she had never really unraveled. She was far too honest, to the point, and selfless for a career in politics; and preferred to keep herself and the Wonderbolts strictly military. Now she looked up into the eyes of a pony she had personally failed in the academy, who now commanded her, and had just sent her best squadron into Hell.

“You’re going to get them killed,” Spitfire growled.

First Class wasn’t fazed, and continued looking down on her, while the bridge crew quieted and looked on.

“If they die, they will have died with honour and glory for Equestria. They signed up for the Wonderbolts as volunteers, and they are the best squadron you have, am I correct?” she retorted, and spun back to face the window.

“I need to know what’s happening, and they are the most likely squadron to make it there and back. Would you prefer I send one of the others on a one way trip?”

Spitfire’s eye twitched, and she sat back in her own chair- normally where the first mate would sit. She didn’t reply. She had a new enemy now, and she would have to learn how to best her in the future.

First Class smirked to herself, and looked forward as a rainbow trail shot out from a ways ahead of the ship. The military class were smart, but they needed to know their place- below her. They served her needs, and her whims. She set the mission, and they carried it out. Argument was treason.

It was too bad she was such a brilliant and capable commander, there were much more loyal pegasi out there, more easy to control, that could take her place. Rainbow Dash was young, nieve, and desperately ambitious. Perhaps she…

First Class rolled her eyes. The war wasn’t even over yet, and she was thinking about perverting the military to be more loyal to her? What was going on, since when did she think like this?

The changeling hive was coming up fast, and that broke her off from her introspection. The helm officer reported their distance every kilometer as they slowly crept up on the changelings with 5,000 tons of metal and fire. The Ace in the Hole was a rumbling, unstoppable, force heading their way, and First Class anxiously awaited Dash Wings report on just what exactly it was heading for. 

Eventually they spotted the end of the fog, while still waiting on the report. Ahead on the horizon the fog was broken by a deep valley, and a seemingly tiny black monolith stood out from the deep forest. 

“Fifty kilometers out ma’am, halting as planned.”

First Class leaned forward and squinted her eyes. There was one thing that they had all expected to see today, and the lack of it was greatly concerning.

Fire.

As she squinted forward, praying to find some sign that the Night Guard had succeeded, the fog was blown back by an explosion some distance from the valley. A blazing trail of rainbow broke into the sky, and sped towards them at an impossible pace.

“Dash wing reporting ma’am, the report is… uhhh…”

First Class turned her chair to face the communications office, who had a hoof on her ear and was concentrating on listening.

“She says… “they expected us”.”

First Class turned back just in time to see the first wave of changelings crash into their defensive Wonderbolt screen, and the bridge exploded into chaos. Orders were thrown around haphazardly, reserves were flown out, and guns were called to bear. The general quarters alarm sounded like a banshee, and point-defence guns on the side spat out a defensive volley of flak as a warning against any brave changeling trying to go for the ship. First Class remained silent through it all, waiting for the first orders to go out before giving her own.

Then, with the view ahead of her full of flak and gunfire, she stuck her hoof up. It only took moments for the bridge to fall silent, and she turned her chair to the shaken crew.

“Martial Spitfire, get your gear on and go lead the screen in person, you haven’t forget to fly, have you?” She ordered first.

Spitfire saluted, and dashed out of the bridge. 

“Helm, turn this thing on its side. I want our guns ready to fire on the hive on my command,” she ordered secondly. 

The helm officer nodded, and First Class turned her chair again. Activity resumed instantly, and a yellow bolt of light shot out from beside the window as the frigate turned its guns to bear. It was not a capital ship, nor even a very well armed ship, but no weapon stokes fear quite like one that the enemy is unable to repel. Equipped with a few 100mm cannons-, this frigate could rain hell on the changelings; and they couldn’t do anything about it.

“Gunnery, how much ammunition do we have?” First Class asked, still staring out the window at the furball ahead.

“Enough for two hours non-stop firing, high explosive.”

First Class tented her hooves, and twisted her chair to keep the hive in view through smaller side windows as the ship turned. She strode up to one of them, and looked out of it towards the den of the enemy.

“Eyeball it for five minutes. I don’t care if you hit anything, just remind them why we’re here,” she ordered.


____


Shining remained in the command post, and he wished he was out there. It was slow going for his men, the forest was treacherous even with a railroad to lead them, and the heavy fog kept them on high alert for ambush. He picked up a rifle off the rack, and strode out of the command tent to get some fresh air. The birds went on with their lives as if the world was at peace, tweeting and fluttering around, creating strange shadows in the fog. 

Shining sat down and admired them while he slowly disassembled the rifle- one of the first-run bolt actions they kept in reserve- to calm his nerves. One of the most harrowing actions any person can take is sending good people off into war, and then waiting. It was out of your control now, you had sent the lives on thousands careening towards what would inevitably be the death of some of them, and all you could do was hope in the end your planning was good, the weather held, and it was all worth it.

He took his time taking apart that rifle, caring for every screw. A soldier could do well to love his weapon, since as soon as the fight started a tiny spec of sand might mean the difference between misfiring, and saving your life. A tiny spec of sand could change the tide of an entire battle, which would win or lose an entire war. Equestria would be won or lost on specs of sand.

He paused as a thundering report from somewhere far away started the birds, and their spectre-like shadows vanished from the fog. Not long after, while he stared into the distance wondering, a signals officer reported to him.

“Wonderbolt’s reporting contact sir, the Changelings were tipped off,” he said.

Shining swore and dumped the rifle parts on the ground, and then pushed the officer to the side on his way back into the tent.

“Get me Sandstorm, right now!” he ordered, and pulled himself up to a desk covered in plans. He swept them all side except for the original map of attack.

Quickly, with rigid precision, one of the officers put a radio beside it and handed the receiver to Shining. Like the bridge of the Ace in the Hole, the command post exploded into action.


________


Flash Sentry had become a Colonel at this point, and led his chosen team forward: Captain Macintosh, nominally head of the heavy weaponry section, carried a heavy gun on his back to his right. Captain Rona Excavo, normally head of the signals section, carried a portable radio to his left. Together they seen action all over the continent and beyond, having served together since the Equestrians first set food on Waylay island. 

Together, they sung.

“Give me Luna, I’ll fill her moon!”

“Give me Celestia, I’ll light her fire!”

“Give me Cadence, I’ll show her love!”

“Give Twilight a few more years!”

It was certainly not the most respectful of songs to be song, nor the nicest on the ears, but it kept the march going. Between the columns that marched, tanks rumbled along the clearing next to the railroad tracks. Their drivers stuck out of their hatches, and the gunners made idle conversation with the mechanics that rode along “for unit cohesion”. Those "lucky" soldiers would be the ones left to clean up after all was said and done, so Flash forgave them the laziness at the moment. In the forests around them the First Infantry- the unit Flash was attached to at the moment, kept a close eye on any potential ambush. Colonel Hoofclaw trotted up on the rail itself, a good bit ahead of all the others. He was a strange stallion, and walked with the confidence of someone that figured they could walk into hell if he wanted, and come back out ruling it.

He took a deep breath of the crisp, watery, air, and glanced back at the soldiers marching with him.

“You smell that? That dewy smell? That’s anticipation boys! Fate knows there’s going to be a battle here, and the very earth herself is wet in anticipation for our glorious victory! I want two changelings for every round you fire, and three for every grenade!" He bellowed.

He was, indeed, an odd stallion. His cocky attitude and demeanour did wonders for morale however, and Flash looked at him with a great deal of respect. He was a pony with a cutie mark of a claw embedded in a hoof, and it seemed like he had been living his whole life waiting for his true purpose: war. He was in his element, and Flash had read reports of his exploits before getting here. Hoofclaw had once routed an entire Griffon company with only a logistics company by charging with broom handles and firecrackers.

They called it the Clean Sweep manoeuvre.

The fog was swept away for a moment as something huge passed over the, with an enormously loud report. Every soldier dove into the mud, and the tanks halted. For a few moments it was silence but for the clanking of tank hatches closing.

“You hear that boys?” Hoofclaw asked, and turned back to them all as a strange buzzing sound grew in the distance.

“Looks like dinner is coming to us!” 

Hoofclaw dove into the mud himself, and wiggled himself in deeply. Flash saw the wisdom in this, and covered himself in it as well. It was pretty cold, but anything that helped you not get shot was welcomed. Flash felt Rona rub his side, and she leaned in to whisper in his ear while he took his rifle from his back.

“Command says they know we’re coming,” she said.

Flash rolled his eyes, and looked at her, “No, really?”

She shrugged and pulled out her own weapon, and they both watched the edge of the fog closely. The buzzing rumble slowly increased in pitch, and then the first changeling burst through the fog. The last image on his face was one of utter shock, before several tanks and a few dozen infantrymen put rounds in it. Flash amongst them.

While he ran the bolt of his gun the changelings response came, a torrential hail of gunfire from just beyond what they could see in the fog. It became a game of cat and mouse from there, Equestrian infantry firing at muzzle flashes in the fog, and the changelings firing back at the same- both trying to hit the enemy without being seen. Sandstorm and his tanks slowly rumbled forward past the infantry, bullets pinging off their armour while internal machine guns swept ahead. Slowly but surely, the infantry crawled forward with them, and they all advanced. 

Foot by foot, inch by inch, they moved forward on the changelings, and the responding muzzle flashes slowed to a trickle. Each sporadic flash was responded with a burst of fire, and none fired twice. Eventually they stopped all together, and the First Infantry ran around the tanks to check the way ahead. When they gave the all clear, Hoofclaw stood and shook off the mud.

“That’ll do it boys! Onwards, there’s more where that came from!” he shouted with his deep voice, and leaped up back onto the tracks.

Flash and the rest stood, and he wiped the mud off while Big Mac reloaded his gun- taking a 12.7 box from a nearby tank for that. The gunner didn’t complain, and just looked at the pony like one would look at a god.

They trotted forward through the dead changelings left behind from their failed charge, a hundred black bodies buried in the mud, stained with green and surrounded by shells and shoddy weapons. They looked less like infantry with rifles and more like children with popguns. 

Hoofclaw walked amongst them and with a pop from his handgun, ended the lives of any that lingered. They knew just how far these changelings went, brainwashed to utter subservience to their queen. Orders were to spare none unless they surrendered, otherwise they were just asking for a stab in the back.

The tanks didn’t adjust their path, and Flash squinted and stared straight forward to avoid seeing the effect 30 tons of metal had on a body. He could hear it however, and tried to make up for that by sparking conversation.

“So…” he shouted over the sounds around him, “how’s the farm back home?” he asked Big Mac.

“Good.”

Flash wiggled his nose and tried again, “How’s your sister?”

“Been better.”

He sighed and shook his head.

______

Spitfire felt good. She hadn’t felt this good, or this free, in ages. It was just her, the sky, and her gun. Ahead of her changelings buzzed around, trying to get the better of the Wonderbolts that fought with them, and inevitably failed. She knew in her rational mind that these were thinking creatures, capable of thought and emotion, but she was not in her rational mind now.

Spitfire was an apex-predator, and she was on the hunt. Every few seconds her rear legs pressed up against the metal on her back, and sent a buzzing hail of bullets towards yet another enemy, sending it falling out of the sky trailing green and black. None had even graced her, and her dance of death in the sky was a beautiful ballad of gunfire. A twisting ribbon of yellow that was only matched by the rainbow one that often crossed and overlapped it. Two un-matched predators in their domain, ruling the sky. 

It was only minutes before the sky was clear, and the two that had nearly single-hoofedly destroyed a hundred changelings met face to face. 


_____


Flash Sentry continued along the railway, and only the sound of armoured behemoths rolling was audible. They had been marching for hours now in total, and it had been half an hour since they engaged the Changeling scouts. Nothing else had greeted them except silence. The border post was abandoned, and the rail leading from it to Equestria had been cut quite deliberately. He shook his head as he passed, the idea that the Changelings would last enough for Equestrian reinforcements to arrive by rail was a dark joke. 

“Why do they keep fighting? Why not just… stop?” Rona asked, nothing Flash’s gaze.

Flash looked back at her, and hugged her to himself with his wing. 

“If it was Canterlot, and she was Celestia, would you give up?” he asked.

Rona considered it for a few moments, and then looked up at him, “No, but Celestia isn’t evil.”

Flash snorted, “Do you think they know that? They’ve lived their entire lives being told Chrysalis can’t do any wrong. Nobody evil knows they’re evil, Rona. To them, we’re the evil ones.”

Rona glared at him, “Don’t give me that subjective morality bullshit, they kidnapped a foal, they are evil.”

Flash punched her playfully on the shoulder, “I know that! What do you think I am, an idiot? I wouldn’t be here, with this gun, if I thought they were good,” he said, and pulled her ahead. "I'm not some goddamn Manhattan hippy burning my draft notice and calling Celestia an imperialist, don't worry."

“They’re evil, and that’s the truth of it, but they don’t know that. That’s the real tragedy here Rona, they’ll fight and die for an evil queen that doesn’t care about them, and all the while they’ll think they’re dying as martyrs for some great cause. She’s bent their perspective so hard that they’ll die willingly. Would you die for Celestia?” 

Rona nodded.

“Exactly, so don’t hesitate to let them die for Chrysalis. The blood is on her hooves Rona, we’re just the ones that have to play middle man. She’ll get hers, in the end.”

“I got sixty-five inches here to see to it,” Big Mac chimed in.

They continued onward, bursts of strange gunfire crackling from the sky for a while, until silence once again fell over the deep fog. The fog started to think eventually, and a pale blue sky became visible. So did the edge of the forest, and Hoofclaw called a halt from ahead. He darted to one of the tanks- the lead one with a radio mast- and had a very blue-coloured conversation with command before leaping atop it and shouting at the group. A rather chubby stallion popped out with binoculars to look ahead while Hoofclaw looked back at them.

“Y’all remember those goddamn bats, the ones that near blew up Canterlot?” he bellowed.

The group murmured, and Flash tensed up holding his rifle.

“Yeah well, those fang-toothed mutants were supposed to blow the damn gun-towers up, but you know what I see? I’ll tell you what I see. I see gun-towers. Four of them. I hope you all brought plenty of ammo, we’re in the shit now,” he shouted, and knocked on the tank below. It rumbled back ahead, and the group marched onwards at a faster pace.

“Goddamn bats,” Flash mumbled under his breath. 

Their opposition became apparent as the road angled downwards into the valley. A mile ahead, and a few hundred meters below, four grey stone towers stood around a fifth, black, monolith. 

“Sweet Celestia, how the hell are we gonna break through that?” Flash wondered aloud. 

Hoofclaw apparently heard him, and cracked his neck as he rode the tank, “Company halt!” he ordered, and then opened the hatch to say something to Colonel Sandstorm. He lifted himself out of his tank, and plopped into the mud while Hoofclaw took his position back on the line.

The tanks then shifted ahead of the group, and lined up ahead of them all. The crews popped out of their hatches and lined their turrets up against the distant buildings. Sandstorm, smiling like a maniac, stepped before them and held a fat arm in the air as they finished their rudimentary targeting.

“One!” He shouted, and threw his hoof down. The leftmost tank fired, and the shell whistled into the distance. It impacted on one of the towers, and exploded stone debris outwards. Ultimately, however, it seemed to do nothing. 

Flash looked through his scope when the second fired, and watched the projectile arc through the sky. That one missed the towers, and wall, entirely. It sailed into the courtyard, and destroyed a crude wooden shanty. Splinters flew everywhere, and small dark objects ran from it. 

The third shot impacted against the fortress itself, striking the side and bouncing off into the distance unknown. The fourth exploded within the courtyard again, and ignited a fire that sent acrid smoke into the sky. The others missed completely, seemingly being dud rounds that didn’t make it far enough, and blew holes in the distant ground on impact. 

“That is how we’re going to break through that, soldier. Brute force," Sandstorm said, staring directly at Flash Sentry as he clambered back into the lead tank.

As Hoofclaw trotted to return to lead them onward, a gigantic roar sounded from behind them, and instinctually everyone dove for the mud. Something huge shot over their heads, and onwards to the hive. Flash scrambled to look with his scope, and watched as a huge explosion tore into one of the gun towers, and then three more blasted against the surrounding wall. While they were definitely still standing, each had a sizeable chunk gouged out. 

“Wonderbolts got their own toys, now let’s get moving before they beat us to it!” Hoofclaw yelled, and led them into a faster march ahead.

They moved much faster now, and the artillery fire from the Wonderbolts became constant. It wasn’t very accurate- most shells exploded against the ground, missed entirely, or hit a bad angle and bounced off- but it was having an effect. At the very least it meant that while they walked onwards in peace, the changelings cowered under a rain of death from the unseen sky. 

Flash considered bringing up the idea of just laying siege to the bugs, but he remembered his briefing. They were self-sufficient under that damn fortress, and even the odd artillery shell that hit it had absolutely no effect. Chrysalis could hide in there for centuries, corrupting the child she had enslaved and denying her parents raising her. There was not a mare or colt in the formation that wouldn’t die to right that injustice.

Flash certainly would, but he would rather make them die for it. 

The infantry, Flash and his group included, ducked into the trees as the neared the hive. The railway led through an open field to a metal gate in the walls, which had been hastily welded shut. The smell of smoke filled the air, and the field was filled with debris and craters from the artillery barrages. For a few moments they waited for that to firing to halt, lining up in the tree-line and peering forward. The tanks had formed up by themselves now, and would be leading the charge to the wall. 

Combat engineers, stacked up with each squad of infantry, carried explosive satchels. The name of the game was getting to that enormous wall, hiding against it out of the line of fire from those gun-towers, and breaching it somewhere. 

So they waited, Flash with Big Mac and Rona beside him on either side. Their objectives were vague, they were mostly there for propaganda value. Flash Sentry was hailed by the newspapers back home as the deadliest thing on three legs (which had been quietly dropped), and Big Mac with his 12.7 gun was a popular title page for recruitment materials. They were a commando unit, and basically just there so Spitfire had someone she count on on the ground. 

They waited, as silence fell on the valley. Total silence, un-natural silence devoid of the normal chitters and chirps of animals and birds. The silence of the calm before the storm. 

Then the tanks fired up their engines, belching smelly fumes into the air and rumbling the ground. A burst of gunfire from one of the towers buzzed against the grassy clearing, kicking up dirt, and the nervous gunner was quickly dispatched by a returning series of explosions from the tanks. Then they charged, a dozen metal leviathans lurched out of the forest and were met by gunfire from the towers. The effect was minimal, and the bullets bounced off the thick steel armour.

Then the infantry charged: with a screaming fury they ran past Flash into the field, overtaking the tanks and dashing towards the wall. Scattered firing back against the gun towers pelted the stone walls, but the moving tanks and running soldiers might as well have thrown their bullets and shells. Dozens fell to the sweeping buzz-saw of Changeling fire, but the vast majority made it across. Flash had taken the slow approach, and hid behind one of the rear tanks. Bullets whizzed over them as they struck the tank, only a tiny part of the intense cacophony of sound. 

Gunfire, screaming, rumbling, gigantic explosive reports of tankfire. The sounds of chaos drilled into Flash's head, but he was a veteran and remained lucid through it.

They made it to the wall, and as the tank reversed to transverse its gun against the gunners still firing down, they formed up against the grey stone. 

Combat engineers had done their job, and all over the line dozens of holes burst into the wall. Infantry poured in without pause, and Flash grabbed Big Mac’s neck to pull him close.

“You’re up front, put three holes in anything not wearing a uniform!””

He nodded and grinned while he cracked his neck. They went in with a wave of infantry, dashing into the dust-filled courtyard. Overturned market stalls, wooden debris, and changeling bodies littered the ground everywhere. Increasingly spent brass added to the detritus of war, and Flash slid behind a stall that had recently been full of apples. 

They were rather fresh, so while he paused to catch his breath, he ate one. He tossed one to Rona as well, slumped behind a large rock that had been knocked out of the wall. 

Big Mac was rather busy firing 12.7 at some unseen enemy, screaming a war cry that was smothered by the sounds around him.  Flash gestured Rona stay put, and then spun around to lay his rifle against the stall. He looked through the scope downrange, trying to get a view of how things were going.

The changelings had fallen back on a series of barricades before the entrance to the fortress proper, as well as several others outside the “barracks” buildings at the courtyard sides. They had made their entrance closest to the east one, which had collapsed and was little more than ruins. The west one was still intact however, and gunfire rained down from the windows while machine-guns out front swept along their lines. Equestrian infantry was held up for the moment, unable to move from the sheer amount of bullets being tossed at them. Grenades were thrown, but all those did was drive patches of changelings back for a moment before they returned.

Flash sighted the gunner outside the barracks, firing a machine gun fed from a large box beside it. He aimed carefully, aiming for the small crack from the box that the belt fed from, and fired.

Then he ducked, since it had exactly the effect he hoped. His bullet hit a live round inside, which went off and started an explosive chain reaction that sent bullets whizzing haphazardly from behind the changeling lines in all directions. The gunner was quickly made into even more swiss-cheese than he already was, and the infantry was quick to make use of the diversion to move up slightly, but not much. 

Flash considered what to do next, and tossed an apple at Rona. It hit her in the head, and she looked at him annoyed. He gestured her over, and she teleported herself to his side. 

“Call the thunder, we need that building demolished!” he ordered.

Rona nodded, and set her saddlebag on the ground. She quickly set up the portable radio, using their cover as a sort of stand for it, and dialled Spitfire. 


______


Spitfire and Rainbow Dash fell back on the ship, flying over it as a pair while it slowly ambled towards the now-smoking Changeling Hive. Their soldiers were striking from the ground now, and the guns had been silent for quite a while. They waited for word that ground fire had been cleared to swoop in, and annihilate any hardened positions by 12.7 millimetre rain. 

“So, Dash,” Spitfire started up, totally at ease even as they flew towards an uncertain future, “that was a pretty impressive move back there- using your guns recoil like a jetpack.”

Dash did a loop in the air and flew to the other side of her commander, flexing her legs outwards to click the safe-locked hammers of her twin 12.7 guns.

“I know, it was so awesome!” she gloated, and playfully shoved Spitfire, “and you, you came in… you came in like a bat out of hell!”

Spitfire made a mental note to keep a careful watch on that one, such glee in war could have tragic consequences left unchecked. Granted, she felt pretty damn good about herself too. There was no feeling quite like meeting a truly evil enemy, and crushing them. A feeling she hadn’t felt since the week at Waylay, and when the dragons came before that.

The air smelt like gunpowder.
Gunpowder smelt like victory.

They flew onwards, the changeling hive before them slowly growing, and the ship halted at the planned distance. Close enough to easily eyeball targets with the guns, but far enough that they would be out of range of any return fire. 

Medical teams, Wonderbolts that had failed gunnery practice, flew down from the ship into the trees to relieve any wounded soldiers down there. The ship itself turned on its side once more, putting its guns towards the Hive.

Spitfire, as the commanding officer of effectively everything, had her pick of the gear to bring. She had a radio pack on her back as well as a customized single-barrel 12.7 gun. Far less firepower than the standard Wonderbolt loadout, but it allowed her to remain in contact with home, and she was precise enough that it didn’t matter.

Her headset crackled, and a slightly-static voice reported to her.

“Air Martial Spitfire, are you re-“

“Yes, what is it?”

“Ma’am, ground teams are requesting a fire mis-“

The speaker was cut off, and the guns immediately started firing on the ship. The booming sound deafened Spitfire for a few moments, and then stopped just as abruptly. 

“What the hell was that?” Spitfire demanded, and angrily spun around to face her ship. She could see the bridge quite well from here, and someone looked back at her.

“Uh, ground teams requested a fire mission ma’am, but First Class approved it for you.”

Spitfire cursed under her breath, and then realized she was still broadcasting. She tore the headset off and threw it towards the ground. 

“Dash, you’re with me! Fuck protocol, we’re going in ourselves. I want a piece of Chrysalis for myself!”

Dash grinned, and the pair shot off towards the smoking changeling hive. They arrived in time for the second barracks to collapse, a vast explosion belching fire into the sky as the stored weaponry went up in smoke. They easily dodged the scattered groundfire, and sighted changelings on the ground. The pair split up and sent gunfire hailing down on them from the sky, sending those below diving for cover in a panic. Those that didn’t dive instead fell silent, and Spitfire slowed herself to hover, firing down on anyone she could see.

“Take that you shapeshifting bastards! Don’t fuck with Equestria!”

With their force now being attacked from the ground and the air, a master sharp-shooter quickly removing any of their machine-gun nests, and a fierce force of infantry closing in on them, it would seem reasonable that the changeling would surrender. 

They did not.

Over the next half hour they held out to the very last, forcing the soldiers below and Spitfire above to double check any bodies were indeed dead, and more than once a supposedly fallen changeling would fire a round into an unlucky soldier. By the end however, they were victorious. The courtyard was a ruin, both of the stone barracks were nothing but rubble, and the gun-towers were destroyed by charges from inside. Spitfire landed on the courtyard surface, trotted past the soldiers with her head held high and Rainbow Dash at her side, and about-faced ahead of the permanently shut door to the fortress.

She turned to the soldiers, as they counted up their dead and tended to the injured, and she spoke. Loudly, proudly, she stood before the victorious legion.

“Ponies! Today we have proven our worth to the world! Let every one of you remember this day to tell your children, and your grandchildren. On this day we destroyed an entire army of evil, and we’re not going to stop there! We’re going for Chrysalis’ head, and if any more of these insects stand in our way- theirs too! Stand tall, and stand proud, today we take our place in history.

Burn the bodies. The changelings aren’t worth burying.”


_____


Wildcard awoke, again, and found himself surrounded by debris. The door was scarily close to his head, broken into timbers and lying on the floor. He painfully rose, and a blaring screaming noise assaulted him from inside his ears. His head felt like it was going to explode, and his vision was blurry as can be. He was concussed, but from the looks of the room around him he was just lucky to be alive. He trotted forward on rubbery legs, and shifted the pile of rubble before him so as to wiggle through the ruins towards the sunlight pouring down from the open sky. 

When he wormed himself free, what he found was ruin. He looked down on the courtyard of the Changeling Hive from the third story of the west barracks, and it was covered in debris, bodies, and smouldering fires. The battle was long since over though, and Equestrian infantry rested. They had emptied the stalls for themselves, and it looked like they had converted most of the area into triage. 

A few dozen black bags were outside that large tent setup in the centre, and as Wildcard looked down on it blearily, he slipped on the rubble. His body tumbled downwards like a rag-doll, powerless to change the course of his fall, and he landed on his face beside a few chattering ponies.

“Oh, lookit that,” one of them said, “I think that’s the ambassador.”

For the third time that day, Wildcard’s lights were knocked out.
> Ballad of Wildcard VI
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Wildcard woke up, once again feeling like hell, but not quite as bad. He found his wounds had been tended to expertly, and he was in a makeshift triage tent. The sun was giving way to twilight outside, while a cold wind blew over the valley. Fires lit the courtyard, and the gentle rumbling sound of a few hundred soldiers relaxing after a hard day filled the air gently. 

At his side a unicorn mare dressed a wound on his leg, and he sat up to get a better look at himself. He was in fairly bad shape- more bandaged than not- but was in one piece. An armed guard stood near the flap, and stuck his head out once he noticed Wildcard moving. 

He shouted something, and the mare tightened his bandage and spoke to him with a softer voice. 

“I was starting to worry we would have to transfer you back home,” she said, and then shook her head, “Sorry, I suppose this is home, isn’t it? Not much of a home anymore…” 

The nurse was right at that. The changeling hive, once the capital of the entire race, their home and fortress; was a ruin, Both of the giant barracks were brought down to rubble, the surrounding wall was full of holes, and the gun towers were little more than stone pillars. The only thing that remained was the fortress itself; a bulwark refuge for Chrysalis and the chosen few.  The Ace in the Hole hovered above it, and powerful spotlights lit the black monolith as night approached. Tonight, without pause, they would begin excavation into the caves below. Then, the long road would finally end.

Chrysalis was a patient mare, she had waited hundreds of years for her first attack on Canterlot, and could wait hundreds more deep underground. When she had built this place she had built it with a militaristic bent; every corridor and hallway was designed to enhance the defence against an incoming army. Her strategy had always been to wait them out, her enhanced alicorn lifespan combined with underground food-stocks meant she could literally wait out an entire army. 

That wasn’t an option. If she had gone just by herself underground, maybe they would be happy to just wall-up the fortress and leave it be, but she hadn’t. She had taken something dear to the Equestrians, and this army would not pause for a minute until it was recovered.

“Odo,” Wildcard mumbled, 

The nurse didn’t hear him, and apparently finished with him, removed her gloves and stood up.

“You’ll be limping for a few weeks, but you’ll heal,” she said, and strode forward from the bed to take a good look at him.

“Your bones are healing faster than normal for a pony your size, and I swear they’re growing too. How old are you?”

Wildcard shrugged, “Thirty,” he said. In reality he wasn’t sure, but it was a nice even number. 

The nurses eyebrow tilted slightly, but then she seemingly shook-off whatever she was pondering. “Nevermind then,” she said, and left him alone in the tent. 

Wildcard shifted and dangled his legs off the crates that were making due as a bed. The question on his mind at the moment was what had happened to the refugees, and the rest of his revolutionaries. Why wasn’t he imprisoned within the fortress, what was he doing out here? 

The answer would have to wait, since a beautiful blue-coated mare, with eyes and mane to match, strode into the tent. She held her head high, and trotted with an authoritative strut. Had she been anyone else, Wildcard would be cowed into submission by her mere presence. Her posture demanded respect, and her gaze fell on him like a chain leash. Two dark figures stood in the doorway as she entered, armed shadows that added to her presence. 

“First!” Wildcard exclaimed, and tripped over himself in haste to greet his wife.

First Class laid down to kiss her husband, happy to know he was (mostly) together. For a moment they just shared in each others embrace, but it wasn’t long before the rumble of an engineered explosion digging into the Earth reminded them of reality. 

“I’m sorry,” Wildcard said quietly, gripping his wife tightly, and shuddering slightly.

“F… for what?” First Class asked, and pushed him back slightly, looking at him with both confusion and worry.

“I failed, I didn’t get the refugees out, and I got my own people captured. I’m a failure as a leader, I’m a failure as a warrior… and I’m a failure as a husband.”

Wildcard looked into his wife’s eyes, tears beading up around the blue spheres. He grimaced and awaited whatever fate decreed be his punishment.

Instead, she smiled thinly at him, and put a hoof behind the ear on the back of his neck. 

“Wildcard, you’re not a failure. Chrysalis is a slippery, evil, enemy. She’s as smart as she is cruel, and she outwitted us a few times,” she said, and stood to look down on him with a smirk on her face.

“We’re still going to kill her,” she added, and lifted Wildcard to his hooves. She smiled warmly at him, a smirk coming to her lips.

“Do you know what that’s going to make you?” she asked, and gently guided her husbands sore body to the tent flap.

“No.”

“Prince of the Changelings.”

That put a swing back in Wildcard’s step, and he followed his wife with his head held high. The two thestrals quickly shadowed and flanked them as they walked, and their glare kept away any of the soldiers. There were quite a few thestrals around, for some reason, and they kept watch from high positions as the soldiers relaxed near scattered fires. The air was filled with the acrid stench of burning wood, and burning bodies. Dark flames rose from outside the walls, and Wildcard saw what they had done with the fallen changelings.

He realized then, that his race was dead. With the massive loses caused by this battle, there remained perhaps two-hundred changelings, including himself. Perhaps a hundred of those were loyalists and would be wise to count out from the population going forward. That left a hundred or so, down from a population of nearly a thousand before. There were, of course, the mentally stunted drones, but they were unable to breed. Most of them would live out their lives happily in the Crystal Imperial foundries, or tending Equestrian orchards. The rest lived underground, and would probably perish in the coming assault. 

The mission he had started on, months ago, onboard the first train to the Hive had been completed. He had saved his race, by destroying it. Chrysalis would never again raise a generation of them to be her brainwashed servants, or sacrifice them en-masse for her own pathetic and vain glory. They would vanish back into the Equestrian population, and become a historical footnote.

It made him happy. He was the last of his race; and that was good. The things that made him separate from the ponies would be merged back into them, and perhaps their shapeshifting genes would linger. They would no longer be alone however; they would no-longer be trapped in a dark valley under a tyrant queen. He would be Prince of a dying race, but it would die surrounded by friends. 

An odd happiness, but happiness nonetheless. Not only would Chrysalis die, but he had destroyed her legacy. The true justice for a tyrant is to deny them historical infamy- bury their statues, burn their decrees, and confine them to a footnote. A curious bit of historical trivia, the butt of a joke, and perhaps a figure for politicians to compare their rivals to. Strip them of their infamy, and you defeat them as an idea as well as a physical threat. The idea is what lingers, you had to smash that to ward off someone getting ideas 20 years down the road. 

First Class led Wildcard to a hole in the courtyard, and rumbling explosions sounded from within. The fortress doors had been blasted, but as expected it had no effect. Meters upon meters of invincible stone stopped their entry, so they had to go under it.

“The engineers say it will take hours, but we’re getting there Wildcard,” she said, and hugged Wildcard with a wing. “We’ll get Odo back, and that bitch Queen of yours is going to decorate the living room.”

Wildcard laughed, it would certainly serve her right to live as a rug.

First Class poked one of her guards, and gestured at Wildcard. He nodded, and shifted slightly to overshadow the changeling. 

“She’ll keep you safe. I’ve got business to attend to, make yourself useful or something,” First Class shrugged, and flew into the air back to the hovering ship.

Wildcard considered following, but would probably just get in the way of whatever was going on up there. He had been out of the loop too long, and trying to barge into planning now wouldn't help anyone- smart as he was. So instead he turned to the rather large guard, clad in armour that seemed to double the size of her body, and offered his hoof. 

She stared at him. 

“I uh… I’m Wildcard, nice to meet you?”

She continued staring.

Wildcard awkwardly lowered his hoof, and tilted his head at the thestral mare. Her eyes glowed yellow slightly in the dim evening light, and her face was an inscrutable blank slate. She seemed kind of like a robot. 

Wildcard made a mental note to get her drunk one day. 

For now, however, he shrugged, and trotted back to the courtyard. The sun descended below the valley walls as he did, and the only light became that of the dozens of fires. He looked around for faces he recognized, instead all he saw was a sea of strangers. 

He trotted out of the tents and fires, and out a wall in the ruined wall. Outside the stench of fires was less so, as the wind blew it all away. A chilly wind, but Wildcard had his “winter coat” on, and wasn’t fazed. He took a deep breath of the crisp air, and noticed he wasn’t alone. A lone stallion, a rather large one- in width rather than height- held a flashlight in his mouth as he inspected a tank. Wildcard trotted over, and the pony spat out the flashlight to greet him.

Or rather, it turned out, his guard: “Hey, get that damn shapeshifter out of here before he sees something important!” the pony exclaimed, waving his fat arms around in an attempt to hide the massive metal vehicle. It was surprisingly effective considering how fat he was.

The thestral drew her sword with a sharp shwing, and Wildcard had to stick out a hoof to hold her back. The pony was rather confused at this point, and his hoof slowly inched towards his side-arm.

“For Celestia’s sake, don’t you know who I am?” Wildcard asked.

The stallion squinted in the dark, and pointed his flashlight at the pair, “You’re a shapeshifter.”

“… a fat shapeshifter…”

Wildcard growled and shot back, “And you’re a kettle!”

“… a fat shapeshifter asshole…”

Wildcard rolled his eyes and regretted holding his guard back. 

“Oh,” the stallion said, and lowered the flashlight, “You’re the Ambassador.”

Wildcard looked at him with the sort of exasperation one feels when a small, dumb, child reports that fire is hot.

The pony looked back at him with mock offence, “Well, you can’t blame me for being paranoid! We’ve been killing your kind all day, last thing I need is a shapeshifter with a chip on his shoulder getting the drop on me,” he says, and then sighs.

“Colonel Sandstorm, it’s a pleasure to meet you,” he says, and extends a hoof.

Wildcard trots over, “Ambassador Wildcard,” he says, and shakes the stallions rather jiggly hoof. 

“Soo… what brings you out here?” Sandstorm asked, and sat himself back upon the vehicle. 


____


Silver Shield, Wildcard’s most trusted changeling, hissed through the bars of his cage. Deep down in the tunnels below the fortress he and those loyal to Wildcard had been caged up, and forced to watch as Chrysalis caged those that remained. One by one by one, slowly but surely, she imprisoned their ranks. The loud booming from above had stopped long ago, and now gave way to an almost rhythmic thumping sound every few minutes. 

Help was coming, hopefully, but for now they remained caged. A hundred cages in the dark, dank, cave. Chrysalis and her mate “Medulla” stood on a high stone platform, surrounded by loyalists, as she pronounced her will. One by one the rebels toppled off that platform into the cold waters below, locked in cages.

Another thump, this time it shock stalactites free from the roof, and they rained down against the cages. 

“You’re not getting out of this!” Silver shouted, his voice echoing through the cave with a background of hissing, “They’re coming for you, and they’re going to kill you! Even if you kill us all, it still won’t save you!” 

He rattled his cage, as did the others, and the noise echoed throughout the cave. It apparently had the intended effect- angering Chrysalis- as she sent an arcing trail of green lighting from up above to down below, sending bolts of searing pain through them all. 

“You know what?” she hissed, and buzzed up into the air to look down on them. “I think death is too easy for you. You want to live with the ponies; you want to live a pathetic and unworthy existence, to suppress your potential? Fine!” she yelled, and the arcing green lightning changed to a shade of blue.

“You can have it your way, but know this! The penalty for your crimes is that each of you will be the end of your line. I was a fool to think even my own creation could be wise enough to accept my dominance, so let it end!” she shouted.

Silver Shield gasped for air as a pain throbbed throughout his body, an unearthly pain that felt as if his organs were being inflated, and then crushed, with every breath. 

Then Chrysalis left, rather abruptly, as another tremor shook the cave. She took her few remaining loyalists out with her, and then with her magic slammed the armoured door that led from the fortress catacombs to the cave. 

Boom, another tremor. This one shook the whole cave. 

The changelings were alone now, and for the next few minutes listened to the approaching sounds. They increased in ferocity with every minute, and then stopped altogether. 


___


First Class closed and latched the metal door behind her, as she strode into the room where Princess Luna, Princess Twilight (oddly, she wasn’t sure when the youngest princess had arrived), and Spitfire awaited her. 

“The engineers should break through in an hour or so, we’ve got th-“ 

Luna gestured at the empty seat across from the three, and First Class became aware of the fact that the table was blank. No war maps or orders, just cold metal.

“Sit,” she commanded.

The glare of the three of them on her made it seem like this wasn’t a war council.

First Class sat herself down, as ordered, and stared back at the three with her head held high. She allowed them to begin, all the better for her to counter.

“First Class, first may I congratulate you on your success in this endeavour, and I hope better luck finds us. We will rescue your child, you can be sure..”

They need me, and she’s trying to prop my ego up so that I will obey her orders more easily. Tough luck, I’ll be running Equestria soon enough.

“… It has come to our attention, however, that you have been taking a more active role in the military than it is accustomed to by someone with your high office. The nation owes you greatly for your service, and we suggest you leave our generals and commanders to do the fighting…”

They want me to stop running things the way I please? Spitfire must feel slighted, adorable.

“… therefore we request that you join our sister in Canterlot, and assist with matters going forward,” Luna finished.

First Class stared back, blankly. “No.”

“No?” Luna asked.

“No. I’m not going to go back to Canterlot and sit out the rescue of my own child. I am going to go down there, myself, and personally put a bullet…” she raised her hoof, and tapped her forehead, “… right between the eyes of that shapeshifting bitch. I have every right to be here, and may I remind you that the military serves at the behest of the government- not the other way around.”

Spitfire’s eyes shifted to look towards Luna, and First Class awaited her response.

“So be it, Minister of State. If power is what you crave, than power you shall have,” Luna said, and places her hooves on the table, raising herself as she glared at First Class intently. Her eyes almost seemed to glow.

“You walk a fine line, First Class. If you think that I will give power over to someone that doesn’t deserve it easily, you are quite mistaken. Calm your ambitions, learn to appreciate those that you command better, or you will quickly learn the same lessons I have,” she said, and smirked as she tapped her forehead the same way First Class had just moments ago.

“Except you won’t live to realize them. I am an Alicorn, I am blessed with good health and longevity nearly without end. I know powers that can vanquish cities, and I’ve seen people like you rise in power, and die away. Your ambitions are vain, and your place in history is an instant within a blink. You have a great deal to offer Equestria, and you have a great deal to offer yourself. Think which will last longer before you do anything rash.”

Luna collected the others and left First Class alone in that room, quite on purpose, to think. 

“So I’ll become one then,” she said to herself, and strode out some time later.

Towards the bridge she went, and upon walking in found Spitfire had usurped the command chair. First Class allowed this, for now, and looked out the window. They were level with the tip of the fortress, just across from a balcony. Chrysalis had once had her throne but the room had been sealed with impenetrable rock and strong magic now, and the changeling Queen had definitely retreated deeper into the monolith. 

Up there she checked the progress of the engineers, and found to her delight that they were in the final descent towards the cave. A unicorn mare, gifted with a sort of underground vision, had helped them tremendously. Soon they would breach the cave, and put an end to this madness. 

So she strode back out happily, this time to the armoury. It took little more than a harsh glare for the Wonderbolt guard to allow her entry, and inside she beheld racks of assorted arms. Swords and pole-arms for those still not accustomed to firearms, and several Wonderbolt 12.7 guns on a table. For herself she chose one of the standard infantry rifles, a newer unit still gleaming, and bearing the Crystal Imperial stamp. She took it, as well as a bandolier of extra ammunition, and strode out again. 

First Class would, in general, give way to the wisdom of leading from the rear. Shining Armour certainly did- he was set up in a tent down below. Normally she would let the grunts do the dirty work, since that’s what they were here for after all. 

This wasn’t normally.

Chrysalis stole her daughter, and by Celestia she was going to have a personal hand in spilling her blood. 

All politicians get dirty, but most prefer to use other agents as gloves. First Class was no such person, she had no qualms getting herself dirty. Besides, after what Wildcard did to Trotsky, her soul was already tarnished. She had been weak, she hadn’t taken the chance to do what she needed to do herself- so he did it for her. She was a killer.


___


Wildcard spoke with the colonel for a time, and learned how the tanks worked. It was basically a tractor except with armour and a really big gun. Sandstorm was a very happy stallion, and the two traded mock insults (about each others weight) for a time, as he explained and showed off his weaponry.

“…I didn’t think changelings could get fat- wouldn’t your carapace break?”

“… so does yours need a bigger engine, or do you just have one less crew member?”

“…did you just come to Equestria because we have bigger food?”

“… does your flank count as extra rear armour?”

On it went for somewhere around half an hour, and the two were able to relax and forget about why they were there in the first place. Sandstorm, Wildcard also found out, was quite proud of his tanks. He had saved a lot of lives with them, and he gleefully told Wildcard of his ideas for more. Armoured vehicles for transporting infantry- slower than cantering on rough ground, but markedly more defended. Tracked artillery could bring much larger guns than a wheeled emplacement by spreading the weight over a larger area. Equestria was preparing to build thousands, putting the lessons they learned here today to work. 

The War of the Hive served an interesting use, Wildcard noted, in the long run: Equestria had a foe to test its new ideas of war on, and knew that even if those ideas failed they would still win. It was a somewhat terrifying idea, since it would mean that a modern war machine like this would keep needing enemies to fight. All the big states would need to pick on the little states so that the weapons they have could be relied upon when they fought the other big states.

A world of perpetual war. Wildcard shuddered at the thought. There was also the matter of what the larger states would do with all that old gear. The world was entering into a new age, and it was somewhat frightening.

Soon enough though, they had to go their separate ways. A runner arrived calling for Sandstorm to meet Field Martial Armour, and Wildcard headed back into the courtyard. By now the sun had descended fully below the horizon, and darkness covered everything. Thestrals swarmed around, their eyes glowing with an odd vengeance. 

Wildcard met his wife in the courtyard, looking almost humorous with a lanky officers uniform and a rifle slung over her shoulder. She looked mean though, a frown covered her face as she looked down at the hole the engineers had made. Beside her Princess Luna awaited, and the ever-present thestrals shadowed her. His own shadow re-joined them, and they joined their comrades overhead.

“Ah, Wildcard. It is good you’re here, we’re close to-“

A shuddering explosion cut Luna off, and she had to wait for the echoes to stop before continuing.

“-put an end to your old Queen,” she finished.

First Class smiled, but continued her staring wordlessly. There wasn’t much use talking anyway, with the constant explosions rumbling from within that hole. Engineers carted out rubble constantly, dumping it into the courtyard without a care. Over and over they continued, digging downwards towards the caves below. 

The end was nigh, Wildcard knew. He sat beside his wife, and snuggled against her warmth. The explosions continued, and they waited together.

In less time that might be expected, they stopped. The carts of rubble slowed to a trickle, and then a dirt-covered engineer clad in a dirty flak jacket strode out of the hole. He approached Luna, and pulled a small device out of his pocket.

“We’ve breached the wall a bit, looks like a large chamber beyond. Just push this, and you’ll blow a hole open large enough for a pony to get through. As you ordered, the final detonation is in your hooves,” he says, and bows to deliver it.

Luna cackled, madly in fact, and Wildcard swore he heard a thunder strike in the distance- despite the fact it was early winter.

“Hah hah! Finally, finally I have the tool I need to end this vile fiend!” she yelled, and a bursting flash of light blinded all around her. 

The creature that emerged was none other than Nightmare Moon, grinning madly in her otherworldly armour, eyes glowing fiercely. She pointed at the tunnel, and slammed on the remote in her hoof. 

“We go now! To victory, and may we spill enough changeling blood to fill an ocean!” she shouted, and dove (somewhat awkwardly considering how cramped a space it was- but her powerful magic widened the hole around her, melting the rock as she passed- into the hole.

The thestrals followed her, hooves trampling into the dirty tunnel, and yelling war-cries that made Wildcard- even as an ally- shudder. First Class pulled him close with a wing, and looked into his glowing blue eyes. 

“Well, think we can beat Luna to it?”

Wildcard buzzed in reply, and they took off down the hole as well.


___


Princess Luna was, at the moment, happier than she had been in a long time. She had a clear objective, and an evil enemy to squash. A glorious victory awaited her, and it was moments like these she lived for. 

Luna, displaying her guise of Nightmare Moon for all the world to see, burst out of the hole that had been torn into the wall of the cave. Mushrooms grew along the bottom and crept up the walls, casting an eerie green glow on everything. Luna cast her own blue radiance around her, the colours splashing against the dark walls and lighting the way. A stone pillar stood in the middle of the room, and a thin stone bridge crossed the circular mushroom-pit to a dark tunnel beyond. She swept down over this, sending dust into the air around her as she rapidly flew into the tunnel. She soon found a door, which offered little resistance to her powerful magic. Once she blasted it back, she was confronted by a long hallway that split dozens upon dozens of times. The tunnels were a labyrinth, but she had brought an army. She picked a direction, and flew. 

First Class and Wildcard followed into the hallway after a time, keeping close to each other. The thestrals had vanished down the corridors at random- this wasn’t a pinpoint operation, it was pest control. Gunshots, screams, and the odd explosion echoed down the halls. They picked one at random, an unopened door, and First Class spun around to kick it open. Then, rifle in hoof, she led Wildcard into the dark. The green light of his horn showed the way.

First Class held her rifle tight, and both of their ears were perked up for any sounds. Only the water trickling from above, and the chaos behind, was audible. 

“It sure is creepy down here,” Wildcard commented. 

He had never spent much time in the caverns- no reason to. He wished he had now, knowing where the hell he was going would be nice.

“You think that’s on purpose?” First Class said, as she glanced around nervously. “Keep us on our hooftips, ready to jump at our own shadow…”

Wildcard doubled the brightness of his horn, and revealed another door up ahead. Markedly larger than the other one, and made of steel. 

“Well, that’s a good sign…” Wildcard said, as the approached it and looked on the ominous metal gateway.

First Class shrugged, and tapped on it.

A loud clanking came from behind and she tripped over herself backing away, falling to the floor and pointing a shaky rifle at the door.

Wildcard pulled her back up to her hooves, and they both stared at the door side by side, “We don’t have to open it, you know,” Wildcard said.

First Class shook her head, “Either Chrysalis is behind there, or something else is. Either way…” she shuddered, and steadied her aim “… I’m not afraid.”

Wildcard nodded, and spread his hooves wide for support as he drew on his wive’s magic to build up a force in his horn. 

“First?”

“Yeah?”

“I love you.”

First Class leaned over and kissed him, and that gave him exactly what he needed. His whole body glowed green, and his horn burst with energy. Energy directed in a beam at the door, which quickly began to heat and glow. The sturdy steel melted under the onslaught, and warped. It was a simple mater then of pushing the steel inwards, leaving the metal to drip away. That left them a hole, which Wildcard allowed to cool while he gathered his nerve. 

Then he shut down the light of his horn, and leapt through the steaming hole. They entered a wide and dimly lit cavern very similar to the one they had entered from. An ominous clanking sound echoed throughout, increasing in volume as they followed a small stone walkway to a central platform. Wildcard looked over the side, and saw cages below. 

Green eyes looked back up at him.

“Wildcard?!” Silver Shield exclaimed, and the clanking stopped.

First Class and Wildcard spent a few minutes releasing the captured changelings, but had little time to spend on pleasantries. Although they had been released from their prison, and were delighted to hear that Chrysalis was on the way out, they seemed oddly resigned. Silver Shield refused to speak of it, and only re-directed Wildcard to the fact it wasn’t over yet. So they departed hastily as a party; Wildcard, First Class, and a hundred changelings. Back into the hallway they strode, and marched down it towards the end. They passed quite a few fallen changelings, and more than one thestral that had the unfortunate luck of being ambushed in the dark. Silver Shield led them on their way, and eventually they broke down another door. This hallway, unlike the others, was well lit.

That, and they were immediately greeted by gunfire as soon as the door crashed inwards. Wildcard caught a glimpse of a sand-bagged machine gun up ahead before he leapt to the side. They had no heavy weaponry to deal with this- most of them weren’t even armed, and the few that were just had whatever they picked up on the way. The buzz-saw of the machine gun tore into their ears, disrupting Wildcard’s attempts to think. 

What to do, what to do? He tried peeking around the corner, maybe he could get off some magic fire?

His head was nearly lopped off by the gunner in the scant half-second he peered over, and he had a /lot/ of ammunition with him in that makeshift pillbox. They could go find Thestral help, but then they would give away their lead. Both Wildcard and First Class wanted Chrysalis dead- by their own hooves. 

“Wildcard…” First Class said, softly. He didn’t hear her, and she prodded his shoulder. He turned to see her, shaking and clutching her rifle as if it was her lifeline.

“Shield… shield me.” she said. 

Wildcard tilted his head, “Are you sure?”

First Class swallowed and nodded. 

“Okay,” Wildcard said, and took a deep breath. “I won’t be able to hold it for long, so you better do it quick."

He considered shielding one of the other changelings instead, but his magic was powered by love. His love for her was powerful, but for them? Not quite as much. Hopefully their love combined would be enough to give them the seconds they needed.

Wildcard kissed her on the forehead, and then a green shield grew ahead of her chest and extended up to her face. She took another deep breath, nodded, and side stepped into the open. She raised her rifle, and Wildcard cringed in pain as he magically absorbed the torrent of fire that reflected off his shield. He couldn’t hold it for long.

First Class aimed, and managed to steady her rifle. The changeling wasn’t far away, and even she could get a clean shot on his head from this close. She aimed… and aimed… 

In the end it was Silver Shield, who dove behind her and fired between her legs, that ended the threat. The gun fell silent, and the changeling flopped against it. First Class stood there, shuddering and flinching, while the changelings moved around her into the carpeted hallway. 

With a rattling thud, she dropped her rifle, and flopped to the hard cave floor. Wildcard draped a sore arm around her, and pulled her back up to her hooves. 

“It’s okay,” he whispered in her ear, holding her against himself while she cried, “you’re too good for this.”

First Class steadied herself, and pushed Wildcard away, “Too good for this?” she asked, glaring at him. 

“What do you think I am, a filly you need to coddle? I hesitated, so what. I won’t hesitate again,” she said, and picked the rifle back up. She pointed down the hallway with it, “Let’s go, we’ve got a Queen to kill.”

First Class strode off past Wildcard, wearing a scowl that seemed to see through him. He watched her for a moment, as she trotted off. He thought back to how innocent she had been when she met him. How beautiful and elegant, how calm and compassionate. A loving and caring person, and a perfect example of what Equestria was about.

Now here she was, covered in dirt and toting a rifle. Out for blood. He had made her into this. Wildcard cursed himself. He had tarnished something beautiful. 

Still, he followed. They did indeed have a Queen to kill, and once that was done he could worry about the future. The other changelings had huddled up at the end of the hallway, at the end of which an elegant wooden door stood. It had formerly been protected by two armoured guards, which now lay on the floor. First Class waited impatiently for Wildcard.

“Are you ready?” she asked.

Wildcard nodded.

First Class grinned, and used her refined lock picking skills to kick the door in. It splintered and shattered as the door was tossed into the room, and then they as well as their changeling party stormed in as a group. Chrysalis sat on a stone throne, looking as relaxed as ever as the free changelings lined the walls, point what weapons they had at her. She sat with a single companion, looking down on them from her high position. Beside her was a crib.

“Oh look at that Alpha, we have guests…” she hissed, and glared at them, “… do be quiet won’t you? You’ll wake the foal.”

First Class strode up, her rifle steadily pointed at the Changeling Queen, she halted at the foot of the stairs leading to Chrysalis throne, and Wildcard trotted up behind her. 

“Give up now, and maybe you’ll spend your life in prison,” First Class demanded.

Chrysalis patted Medulla on the head, and whispered something in his ear, he nodded and quickly scampered off behind the throne. A dozen free changelings bolted after him, but were shoved back by a green force field.

“Now now, did I say you could go back there?” Chrysalis sneered, and tossed them against the wall before turning back to First Class.

“I refuse. What are you going to do about it?”

First Class pulled the trigger, and Chrysalis deflected her shot easily. Still, she was somewhat surprised from the looks of her, even as she tore First Class’s weapon away and bent it into a useless chunk of steel. 

Odo awoke in an infant terror, and cried sharply. That sound arose all sorts of fatherly instincts in Wildcard, and his hair stood on end as he hissed at Chrysalis.

“Dear me…” she said, and a green sphere surrounded her, “You woke the poor baby.”

She lifted into the air, surrounded by green, and the other changelings took their chances. They all fired at her as well, but their bullets were easily swept aside by the powerful Changeling Queen. She responded with a shock-wave that threw them all against the ground- except Wildcard.

He was glowing, and First Class stood beside him.

Chrysalis cocked an eyebrow at the pair, and cackled. “Such love! I made the mistake of letting that defeat me once, but I won’t again!” she yelled, and a green tendril of energy shot out at Wildcard. 

It hit him painfully, but he held. His own horn flared, and a blast of energy forced its way upwards out of it. Slowly it drew back Chrysalis’ magic, and he drew First Class close to him for support. He focused all his will on this, all his energy and all life. He remembered.

He remembered the first day he saw First Class, and how his heart had fluttered. He remembered the feeling that gave him, seeing someone so perfectly refined, so powerful and yet so kind. He remembered, and pushed back.

He remembered their first date, and how they had shared storied inside the mountain. He remembered the feeling of sharing his thoughts so openly, spilling his soul, and how she had done the same. He remembered the feeling of safety, of being able to crack open his walls and allow someone to look inside. He remembered looking inside her as well. He remembered getting blackout drunk, and ending up in a warm bed. He remembered, and pushed back.

He remembered when she had discovered his subterfuge, and Chrysalis pushed back. He screamed in pain, but quickly remembered as well the result of that. When he had destroyed his lifes work and abandoned the hive, all for a blue mare he met in Canterlot. He remembered, and pushed back.

Chrysalis screamed out at them, “Just give in you bastards, I rule here!”

Wildcard remembered their journey to the Hive, when things were better. He remembered using the power of their love to destroy an entire airship. He remembered, and pushed back.

He remembered the things that he had done, and the things that he had seen, all for his love. He remembered the sacrifices he had made, the lives he had ruined, and the battles he had fought. He remembered, and pushed forward.

He remembered their abrupt marriage, and the delight in finding out he would be a father. He remembered, and drew First Class tightly against himself under his wing. She drew hers around him, and they both stared up at the increasingly terrified Chrysalis. They remembered, and pushed forward.

Chrysalis was given no time for a horrified scream, or for a final plea for mercy. The power of their love pushed up against her, and burned down her horn forcibly. In only a second it continued down to her scalp, and melted her flesh. Down her body it continued, driven by the hatred and love felt by the pair. Two opposite emotions combining for lethal effect, as the Changeling Queens skeleton was stripped of it’s skin, and then soon that too burned to nothing more but ash. With not but a cry, the cinders of the once powerful mare fell into a heap on the floor before her throne.

First Class wasted no time, and was instantly grabbed Odo out of her crib one it was done. She sat herself down, and cradled in her hooves. The foal quieted in her mothers arms, as Wildcard stood behind her. 

Wildcard looked at the throne, and then to Silver Shield. He reached down to kiss his child, and then strode up the steps. He swept aside the ashes of his queen without any care, and sat himself down. 

The free changelings bowed to him, and down the hallway Princess Luna, drawn by the cries from within, trotted up surrounded by thestrals. 

Wildcard, Prince of the Changelings, had taken his place. He looked down on the remains of his people, and bade them to stand. 

“We are free.”