> The Tab > by Antiquarian > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- > Paid in Full > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- Canterlot, five years after the end of the Crystal War... The doorbell jingled as the unicorn pushed her way into the uptown Canterlot donut shop. Most patrons scarcely looked up from their conversations to see her enter, but those that did performed a double take. After all, it was rare to see a pony walk into a donut shop in the full Dress Reds of an EUP Guard Officer, especially one of the elite Rangers. Still, it didn’t take long for them to return to their food. After all, they remembered what day it was as well as anypony; seeing stallions and mares sporting everything from tattered BDUs to armor to full dress uniforms was to be expected. The mare scanned the room, searching for familiar faces while a part of her automatically checked the exits, lines of sight, and analyzed the patrons for potential threats. She knew full well that she was safe, but some old habits never went away. Of all the room’s occupants, the only one she recognized was the owner and proprietor, a thickset stallion who broke into a wide grin the moment he set eyes on her. “Twilight Sparkle!” he exclaimed with a chuckle. “Long time no see, kid!” Twilight smiled and strode across the room to greet the aging stallion, her limp barely slowing her down. “Morning, Joe. How’s business?” “Fine, kid, just fine. Hey, thanks again for sending Maple my way. Little doughboy’s a wiz in the kitchen, and he’s really taken the strain off these old hooves.” The mare reached the counter and leaned a forehoof on it. “Oh, come on, Joe. You’re not old just yet. But I’m glad Maple’s settling in well.” Her face fell, becoming more serious. “He is settling in well, isn’t he?” “Sure, sure,” insisted Joe. “I mean,” he shrugged, “he kinda forgets where he is sometimes, and he don’t come outta the kitchen ‘less he has to, but he’s a good kid. Hard worker. Real nice boy.” Twilight nodded. “Thanks again for giving him this job, Joe.” Joe shook his head adamantly. “Hey, don’t thank me for nothin,’ kid. You know my policy. That boy earned this job, a’right? I ain’t doin’ no favors. And he is a big help.” “I’m glad,” smiled the mare. “You want me to tell ‘im his old boss is here?” She shook her head. “If he’s happy working back there I don’t want to bother him or make him come out to me. You can tell him I’m here, and if he wants to see me I’ll go back, but don’t disturb him if he’s having a good day. I’m due to see him down at the VA in a couple days anyway.” “A’right, kid. Sounds good.” He pulled out a pair of tongs and began gathering up a platter of donuts. “The dentist’s nightmare I assume?” “You know us so well,” she grinned. “Well, I’ll bring ‘em around when I got ‘em all. I saved your table. You go sit. Get off that leg.” Twilight flexed her back leg. “It’s just a few pins and wires, Joe. I can still run on it. I’m not a cripple.” “Humor an old stallion, eh?” She rolled her eyes. “Only for you, Joe.” With that she ambled over the table. On the way her eyes drifted to the tack-board on the wall, and to the many pictures, citations, and totems that were pinned to it. It was a lot fuller than it was a decade ago. Dragging her gaze away with a sigh she took her seat on one of the six stools at the usual table and settled in to wait. In a way, the waiting was a tradition in and of itself. She wasn’t sure how it had started. She’d been early the first time, and every time since then. Maybe it was because she believed that a leader should always lead from the front. Maybe the others had busier schedules. Maybe it was just her neuroses demanding punctuality. Whatever the case, if history were anything to go by, she knew that she would have between 5.3 and 4.7 minutes to kill before the first of them showed up. She busied herself with reading a book that she’d brought along with her. At 2.3 minutes Joe slipped in and left the platter of donuts on the table. Before the war she would’ve been too buried in her book to notice. Now she managed to note his arrival and departure without losing concentration on what she was reading. Several patrons came and went to the jingle of the doorbell, but it wasn’t until another unicorn mare wearing the Dress Blacks of an enlisted pony entered at 4.9 minutes that Twilight looked up. Right on time, she thought with satisfaction. With exaggerated slowness the newcomer entered, holding up her forehooves on mock surrender. “Don’t shoot, Cap’n! I come in peace!” she pleaded with a wide grin. Twilight rolled her eyes. “Very funny, Minuette,” she said, putting aside her book and beckoning the blue mare over to the table. “Quit blocking the door and get over here. Ponies will think you’re nuts.” Minuette giggled and trotted over while Twilight reflected on their first time coming here after the war. The captain had shown up first, of course, and Minuette had taken it upon herself to sneak in through the back way and surprise her superior officer with a hug from behind. She had ended up pinned to the far wall by a reflexive immobilization spell. Ever since then, she’d made a point of making a big deal out of her entrances whenever Twilight was around. This year was actually pretty understated, mused Twilight. Plunking herself down on the stool next to Twilight, her trademark cheeky grin firmly plastered on her face, she punched her friend lightly in the shoulder. “Looks like I made it another year without getting a concussion from you, Cap’n.” Twilight gave a thin smile. “Ah, but the day is young, Specialist. And I do so love visiting the infirmary with you.” Minuette shrugged, unbothered. “Eh. At least these civvie doctors are gentler than old Doc Sawbones was.” Her grin broadened and she winked. “And that young Doc Splint ain’t bad to look at, know what I mean?” “You’re impossible,” replied Twilight with a roll of her eyes, though she couldn’t keep a fond smile off her features. “Just wait till Lyra gets here,” Minuette cackled. “It’ll be nothing but talk of hunky stallions for three hours.” “More like 2.75 hours. Lyra’s always late.” Minuette snorted. “Yeesh. Punctual, much? Maybe you should have had the hour glass cutie mark instead of me.” “Cutie mark swap, eh? You know, I bet there’s a spell for that,” mused Twilight. The blue mare glared. “Don’t even think about it.” Twilight responded with an evil grin. The doorbell jingled and another voice interjected, “Uh oh. I know that look. What’s the boss got cooking this time?” Minuette and Twilight looked up as a third unicorn mare approached, this one white with a pink mane and the black and red of a sergeant major. “Cutie mark swap spell, Shiner” the blue mare practically spat. “As if she didn’t get mad sciency enough during the war.” “I call swapping with Lyra,” deadpanned Twinkleshine as she sat down. “Always wanted to play an instrument, but I never had the talent for it.” “Yeah, but if Lyra gets yours she’ll be even better at making stallions see stars when she puts ‘em on the pavement,” countered Minuette, gesturing to the burst of stars that Twinkleshine ‘Shiner’ sported on her flank. “That mare’s got a long enough string of nights in the drunk tank for brawling as it is.” Twinkleshine shrugged. “I keep telling her she should just join a valid martial arts team so she can at least get paid better doing it, but she prefers the underground. Not that she admits it. ‘First rule of Fight Club, yadda yadda yadda.’” She glanced over at the book Twilight had left on the table. “The foul book of forbidden magic in question, I trust?” she asked. Twilight laughed. “Hardly. Victor Hoofson’s The Father of All: War and History.” The white mare cocked an eyebrow. “Didn’t you write the forward for that?” “N-no,” replied Twilight. Twinkleshine stared. “Yes,” admitted Twilight with a sigh. “So you’re reading it again?” “It’s a good book!” “And the fact that he explicitly mentions your brother’s charge at Valley Foal has nothing to do with it?” “It’s a valid reference! Not my fault I’m related to him,” she replied crossly. Minuette grinned. “I think it’s cute how her blush matches the streak in her hair, don’t you?” “Yeah, it’s a good color on her.” “You should just find that same color blush in the store and wear it on purpose. Turn a few stallions’ heads at the next military ball.” Twilight let her forehead hit the table. “Hate you. Hate you both.” The two laughed wickedly and she picked her head up to glare at them. “Whatever happened to respect for your captain? Specialist. Sergeant Major.” “Sorry, boss,” apologized Twinkleshine. “The LT usually keeps us in line and she isn’t here yet.” As if on cue door of the shop swung open once more to admit a yellow unicorn mare in Dress Reds. Unlike the others, she was accompanied by a stallion, a light blue pegasus with wild dark blue mane. “Careful, honey,” he warned her as they entered. “There’s a step there.” The unicorn tapped against the floor with her cane, her eyes staring sightlessly ahead behind her opaque sunglasses. “I know Soar,” she said, a touch impatient. “I was coming to this shop before you learned to fly.” He shifted uncomfortably, but carried on. “Well, there are a few tables between here and there, and one path looks like it’s been cleared to—" “Soar,” she said firmly, “I know there’s a path. Joe clears it every year. And I know you’re just being helpful, but, seriously love, I’ve got this.” Soarin’s ears drooped. Seeming to sense this, her face softened and she leaned over to give him a peck on the cheek. “Sorry, honey. I shouldn’t snap. But I’ll be just fine, and you’ve got your own reunion to fly off to.” Soarin chuckled. “Don’t worry. If I’m lucky, by showing up late I’ll miss Crash’s story of how she got her callsign.” “You might also miss the pie.” The stallion reached a hoof around her head and gave her a passionate kiss before zipping off with a salute. “Byehoneyseeyoulater!” he called back as he zoomed off. With a chuckle Lemon Hearts made her way over to the table. “Works every time.” She sat down with a sigh, folding up her cane with her magic. “Is it just me, or does he hover more now than he did when I first got blinded?” “I think it’s sweet,” remarked Twilight. “Oh, don’t get me wrong. It is,” replied the retired lieutenant. “It’s also supremely annoying. I mean, I know I’m disabled, but I’m not incapable.” “At least your husband has an excuse,” frowned Twinkleshine. “Halberd won’t let me do any heavy lifting around the house anymore.” “Well duh,” chortled Minuette. “Shiner, you’ve got a bun in the oven! He doesn’t want you straining yourself!” “I’m not even showing yet!” shot back Twinkleshine frostily. “And I’ve kept up my physique in the tournaments; it’s not like I can’t lift. He’s just fretting over nothing.” “Egad, the horror,” snarked Twilight. “What a dreadful thing to have genteel stallions waiting on you and catering to your every whim.” Minuette giggled. “Yeah, I’m not seeing the drawback. Sounds like you gals have got it made. Can’t perform a simple task or just don’t feel like it? Make your hubby do it! I mean, if he were here right now, he could help you answer my question, Lemmy.” Lemon Hearts cocked an eyebrow. “What question?” “How many hooves am I holding up?” Heaving an exasperated sigh, Lemon Hearts ignited her horn, gripped Minuette’s stool, and unceremoniously ripped it from beneath her, planting the mare firmly on her back, hooves splayed in the air. “Four,” deadpanned Lemon as the other mares laughed. Minuette rolled to her hooves, her grin as cheeky as ever. “Always the sharp one, LT,” she giggled as she righted her stool and sat back down. “Guess that’s why they made you and the Cap officers while the rest of us disreputable peons stuck to being cannon fodder.” “Disreputable peons? You talkin’ about me?” called a voice from the door. A lime green unicorn mare in Dress Blacks ambled into the room, cocky smirk on her face, bruises visible beneath the folds of her uniform, and a prominent black eye purpling her features. “Celestia’s tail, Lyra!” exclaimed Minuette. “Did you get the number of the cart that ran you over?” “Yeah, but he was uninsured,” replied the lime mare as she sank into her chair, wincing at the movement. Twilight frowned. “Lyra, what happened? You look like you took quite a beating.” Lyra shrugged. “Had to pay for the train ticket somehow.” “Pay for the— oh, no, have you been fighting again?” With a glower, Lyra replied, “The first rule of—" “Fight Club, yeah, yeah, we get it,” Twilight cut her off. “Lyra, I would have covered your ticket.” “Or you could just take my advice and join an actual League,” added Twinkleshine. “Honestly, with that shiner you’ve got it’s like you’re trying to take my nickname.” “Take your name, Sarge?” asked Lyra with mock horror. “Never!” Twilight leaned in, concerned. “Seriously, Lyra, you look terrible.” “Yeah,” chimed in Minuette. “You look as battered as Twilight’s love life.” “Hey!” Lyra smirked at the blue mare’s quip. “Trust me; the other pony looks even worse.” “Small consolation for you,” observed Twinkleshine. “I don’t know what you’re all talking about,” said Lemon Hearts. “I think she looks fine.” “You’re a gem, LT,” laughed Lyra. “Hey! Joe! Could we get some ice over here?” Joe brought the requested ice over and stayed for a few minutes to chat with the mares, asking after their lives and families. There wasn’t much to catch up on, as he saw all of them but Lyra most every week and even she made the trip out every month or two depending on her finances. Given that this was their day to catch up with each other, he didn’t linger, but instead fetched a set of coffee mugs and a carafe of the dark brew for them. He set a cup before each of the five mares and one at the sixth place, filled each up, and then left them with the carafe. Twilight distributed napkins to each of the six places. “Well, girls, we’re all here. Let’s divvy up and dig in.” “Agreed,” smirked Lyra. “Then we can get back to talking about your lack of a love life.” “I’m going to smother you in your sleep.” Amidst chuckles and banter they divided the massive platter of donuts between them. Most of them took two or three donuts. Twinkleshine took six on the grounds of eating for two. Lyra took six on the grounds of being a disreputable peon. Minuette wanted to leave two at the last place, but Twilight stopped her at one. “You remember how she was in school. She barely liked sweets. Only ate them to be polite.” “How would you know? Your face was always in a book,” snarked Lyra. Twilight bristled slightly. “I occasionally looked up, and I have a very detail-oriented mind, thank you very much. And excuse me if having to retake the entrance exam made me a bit of a bookworm.” “Oh, is that what it was?” asked Twinkleshine. “Because your brother told us you were always a hopeless bookworm.” Twilight heaved a sigh of long suffering. “Why am I friends with all of you?” “Psychological imbalance?” suggested Lyra. “That sounds right,” agreed Twilight. “Lemon, were they always this disrespectful?” “Naw. Some days they really got going.” Minuette giggled. “Speaking of crazy, remember that time Moon Dancer got heatstroke and started hallucinating that Twilight was her own reflection? Boy howdy she got confused that you didn’t have glasses!” Twilight smiled at the memory. “I almost grabbed her spare pair just to make her shut up. She got insistant.” “Crazy part was she still tagged that scout at three hundred yards,” said Twinkleshine, taking up the story. “We all thought she was just seeing things. Then she just took Lyra’s crossbow, rattled off a bunch of windage and trajectory calculations out loud, and popped off the single best shot I’ve ever seen an essentially inebriated pony make.” Lyra snorted. “I bet I can beat that.” “As long as I get to watch you try, I’ll take that bet.” Lemon Hearts grinned. “Cap, you remember when you and she got into that dust up over whether Ploto or Aristotail was the superior moral philosopher? I thought we were gonna have to put the war on hold just to deal with the two of you.” “I maintain that I won that,” said Twilight around a mouthful of donut. “There were no winners that day,” Lyra moaned. “Only the egghead villains and their innocent victims on the sidelines.” Twilight gave a wicked smile. “Call me ‘egghead’ again and I’ll give you an encore lecture here and now.” Lyra and Minuette gasped in horror. Twinkleshine laughed and Lemon Hearts just sipped her coffee thoughtfully. “I wonder if it’s possible to become a war criminal when you’re not active duty,” she mused. “Remember that time we put that trick fuse on the bomb when we were testing the new frags?” chuckled Lyra, eager to change the subject. “The one that went out every time you lit it?” “How could I forget?” grimaced Minuette. “Moon Dancer was so peeved she chased me for half an hour straight, then sat me down for a lecture on range safety that lasted approximately half an eon.” Lemon Hearts and Twilight frowned. “How come we didn’t hear about that?” the latter asked. “Because I didn’t want two lectures.” “If it makes you feel any better, I heard about it,” interjected Twinkleshine with a grin. “I made Lyra clean the latrines for the week.” “Only Lyra?” “After hearing Moon Dancer lecture, I figured Minuette had been punished enough.” “Fair.” The morning wound on as the five friends gossiped, reminisced, and laughed the day away. Old stories were repeated, and in a few cases reenacted, including a spot on impression by Lyra and Minuette of the time when Twilight and Moon Dancer had unknowingly pursued the same stallion in Boot Camp; it was so well done that even Twilight had to laugh. In time (and after two refills and one additional platter) the food and drink was whittled away until only the single cup and donut remained at the sixth place. Seeing that it was nearing mid-day when the parade would begin, the mares decided to settle the tab. “I think we should all chip in,” asserted Twinkleshine. “I’ll cover Lyra’s since she had to get bludgeoned half to death just to get here.” “I’m not a cheapskate,” huffed Lyra. “I’ve got enough bits in here for mine.” She fished around in her pockets and mumbled, “Probably.” “Girls, girls,” interjected Twilight. “This was my idea in the first place. I’ll pay.” “Like heck you will,” interrupted a gravelly voice. Donut Joe ambled around the table, fixing each mare with a chiding expression. “You ladies know better than that. Ain’t none o’ ya gonna pick up the tab when it’s already covered. You gotta learn that already. I ain’t gonna go through this every year.” “Joe, please,” said Twilight, gesturing to the empty platters and carafes. “There must be at least fifty bits worth here. While I speak for all of us when I say we really appreciate this, you can’t just eat the cost every year—" “Horsepucky!” exclaimed Joe. “I ain’t eatin’ the cost!” He tapped the empty stool. “Moon Dancer’s picking it up as always, and her tab’s paid in full!” Twilight gave a sad smile. “Joe…” “Paid in full,” insisted the stallion. “And you won’t convince me otherwise.” His smile returned and he flicked his head towards the door. “Now get outta here. The parade’s gonna start soon, and I gotta close up shop so I can find a good spot before they're all taken. And you gotta get ready to march yourselves.” Seeing that he wouldn’t be swayed, the mares thanked Joe and rose to leave. On their way out, each of them stopped by the tack-board and dipped her head to it respectfully, even Lemon Hearts, who knew its location by memory. Twilight was the last to leave, as always. She paid her respects to the board, then cast a glance back at Joe. “Listen, Joe, I really appreciate you doing this every year.” The stallion gave her a smile that couldn’t seem to make up its mind whether it was happy or sad. “Course, kid. S’what you all deserve. Now get goin,’ ya hear? I still got work to do.” With one last smile at him, and one last nod at the board, she left. Once she had gone, Joe flipped the sign on the door to ‘Closed’ and started locking up the shop. He’d clean everything up when he got back to re-open later in the afternoon, but right now he needed to get ready to go down to the parade. Maple wanted to see the Veteran’s March, even if he was still too skittish of crowds to march in it as was his right. Fortunately, Joe’s family lived in a flat that overlooked the main thoroughfare, so Maple could join them to watch the parade without needing to brave the press of ponies. The kid had already thanked him a million times for it, but Joe just waved him off. After all, the kid earned it. Not his fault the war made him jumpy. Shouldn’t have to miss the parade just because I don’t feel like sharing my balcony. As he made his way back to the kitchen to collect the young veteran, he paused by the tack board. All over it were tacked news articles, pictures, and memorabilia of firefighters, police, and soldiers from all ranks and branches. In recent years the last group had become the most common. All were familiar faces to the shopkeeper, but there was one in particular that his gaze was drawn to. It was a cream-coated unicorn mare with glasses and Dress Blacks, posing in a picture with five other uniformed mares, an uncommonly broad smile on her face. Next to it was pinned an official citation stamped with the royal symbol. It read: Official Citation Her Royal Highness Princess Celestia of Equestria, November 11, 1117 AU, has awarded the Star of Valor to Staff Sergeant Moon Dancer, 1st Ranger Brigade, Equestrian EUP Guard, for conspicuous gallantry and intrepidity at the risk of her life above and beyond the call of duty. Staff Sergeant Moon Dancer distinguished herself with the 1st Ranger Brigade in combat operations against Sombran Imperial forces in the Battle of Hollow Shades. Her platoon was assisting in the night evacuation of the civilian population that had hitherto languished under Imperial occupation when her unit came under close attack from a company of enemy infantry. Staff Sergeant Moon Dancer killed several enemy soldiers in the hoof to hoof fighting that ensued, and her leadership was instrumental in pushing the larger Imperial force back. To cover the retreat of their infantry, Imperial fusiliers lobbed grenades at the 1st Ranger Brigade. When one grenade landed in the midst of the tightly packed Equestrian infantry, Staff Sergeant Moon Dancer, realizing that her embattled comrades would be unable to clear themselves of the grenade blast, flung herself upon the grenade at the moment it exploded. She was killed instantly. Her selfless action saved the lives of her company commander and as many as a dozen of her fellow soldiers. Staff Sergeant Moon Dancer’s heroic actions are in keeping with the highest traditions of the service, and they reflect great credit upon herself and the EUP Guard. Joe raised a reverent hoof to the picture of the smiling mares. It hovered beneath the figure of Moon Dancer, but did not touch. With a deep sigh he lowered his hoof. “Like I said, girls,” he murmured. “Paid in full.”