> Fallout Equestria: Alphabet soup
>  by Doomande
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

> Enclave: D is for Duty by Trooper
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Lieutenant, are you even listening to me? I asked you, do you understand the charges that you are being tried for?” the gray Enclave officer with the marking for the Judge Advocates Corps on his collar asks.

Before him sits a teal coated pegasus with his black mane and tail. His uniform shows that he is a lieutenant of scouts for the Enclave. He shakes his head and replies, “Of course I do, do ya think I am an idjit?”

They are inside a closed room. Besides them, on one end there is a bench with two Enclave officers who are acting as the board of the Court Martial, and a third who is the presiding judge, upon whom the final decisions will rest. Next to the teal officer is his defense attorney who is sitting there with his forehooves crossed, his eyes closed and shaking his head.

“One more comment like that and I will hold you in contempt.” The judge tells him.

The teal officer’s wings flare a bit at this, his ears start to pin back, and he tells those in the courtroom, “Go ahead and hold me in contempt, I already do. I hold the whole blasted Grand Pegasus Enclave in contempt. For the love of the Goddesses, we should be helping those down there. Our duty was ta protect Equestria and all ponies. Instead look at what we have done and continue to do to those poor souls.”

The prosecutor that stands against him looks at him in disgust and replies, “That was one hundred and ninety years ago. Our duty now is to defend and protect the pegasi, and by extension the Enclave. You do this by following your orders, or have you forgotten what your duty is.”

The accused all but spits, “Just doing your duty does not mean obeying orders that you know are wrong. Those orders were wrong, and the ponies in that village were innocent. We need to do better. We need to do what is right and just, that should be our duty.”

The prosecutor turns back to him and asks “And who are you to decide what is and what is not your duty? You are an officer of the Grand Pegasus Enclave. You have been trained.  You do not decide what your duty is. Your duty is to follow orders Lieutenant, in case you forgot.”

“No sir, I have not forgotten. I also know that when it comes my time, I will be held accountable to the Goddesses for my actions.”

Several of those in the courtroom laugh at this. The prosecutor then tells him, “You already are being judged for your actions. Think Stallion, think!”

And he does. The lieutenant thinks back over his career. In his mind he remembers his father Sirocco’s career in the Enclave service. He remembers his mother and father's joy at the birth of his younger sister Blue Skies, then the pain of loss when his mother died in childbirth when they tried to have a third foal.

His father always said it was because the doctor and medical attendants failed in their duties that his mother died. The unnamed foal taken as well as his mother to Elysium. Then he lost his father as Sirocco tried to forget his pain by diving head first into his duty.

The son followed in the hoof steps of the father and put his duty before his own wants and desires. To the point he even had himself proud cut so an unplanned foal could not interfere with his career, his duty to the Enclave.

It had been a good career, he thinks. He had entered service as an enlisted pony and after seven years was advanced to lieutenant. He was proud of this as well as satisfied that he was doing his duty to the Enclave.

He thinks back to the mare he met and fell in love with after he made sergeant. How she begged him to get married and have a foal. He remembers how crushed she was when he told her that not only would he not, but that he could not be the father of her foals. She left him shortly after that. But as she left, she told him, “It is my duty as a healthy mare to have at least one or two foals and to raise them to protect the Enclave.”

Duty. Duty she said. It felt like a buck into his muzzle. But he did not stop her, in fact he told her, “If that is what you feel is your duty, then go, be nothing more than a womb for somepony else. But do not ever darken my sky again.”

He sits in the courtroom with that memory and hears the prosecutor ask him, “This was not your first time on such missions was it Lieutenant?”

He shakes his head to clear the memories and then replies, “No Sir, it was not. In fact, myself and my team have been working together for several years on just such missions.” He tells them.

“If this was a common type of mission then why did you fail to do your duty? What was so special that you, who swears that you know what duty is and always does it, failed this time?”

As he sits there, he thinks back to the day that got him to where he is now and what is going to happen to him next.

He was commanding a ten-pegasi squad on the mission. All of them veterans who he had worked with before. They were part of the elite of the Enclave military. They carried out missions down dirtside so that others did not need to get their hooves dirty.

The mission orders took them to the northern plains section of what was once Equestria, in a small village named Maredora. The Enclave had recently received reports of anti-Enclave elements as well as dashites living and operating out of this area. The team members were to go in, find them and eliminate the threats to the Enclave.

He and his squad had scouted this area for the past several weeks. The two previous nights he had his sergeant and corporal both go into the town to investigate and verify if they truly were supporting the Dashites. He is about to call off the mission and request a pickup, but he wants to make sure for himself that the village is clear.

The day before he is to perform the recon himself he is surprised when he sees a band of buffalo enter the village. He observes them from just off the edge of one of the many bluffs and mesas that surrounded the area. He is relieved when he sees the buffalo leave the village several hours later, after their trading has been finished.

Once he sees that they are leaving the area entirely he calls to the members of his team on the whisper mic of his power armor and tells them, “All team members hold your positions, once it is safe enough, I will go into the village and recon.”

He receives the normal round of “Roger,” from each of his troopers, then he hunkers down and waits.

He waits until it is dark, then he glides down to the edge of the village and begins to walk the streets of it. Looking into the closed shops he remains in the shadows. He passes the general store with its shuttered windows. The blacksmith shop with one door left partially open. The small church that while rundown shows evidence of use. The town sheriff's office is closed for the night and is empty, as usual from what  he and his team have seen. 

He sneaks into  an old abandoned warehouse and all he sees are some boxes on some shelves. Toward the back away from the door, he sees a few of the boxes have been converted to living quarters. He listens to the conversations at a distance and hears nothing incriminating.

Finally he comes up to the town pub. He remains out of sight but listens to the conversations inside.

From inside he hears a mare’s voice, “Ya know Tender Hoof. One of these days we keep dealing with those buffalo, one of the other villages will cause us grief.”

“Ah, yah worry too much Half Pint, the last time any pony from Buckston tried to give us trouble we took care of them.” A stallion replied.

From the back room of the pub he hears a foal start to cry and the mare he assumes is Half Pint tells the others, “Ok every pony, I will be back in a bit, I need to feed my filly.”

He hears hoofsteps leave the main room of the pub and the others continue to talk.

“Ya know though she may be right,” another voice starts, “Those ponies in Buckston hate the buffalo and would do anything to get rid of them or those who help em.”

Then he hears the voice of the one he thinks is Tenderhoof say, “Yeah, but there ain’t many of them, what do you think they can do, sick the Enclave on us. It’s not like we can do anything to em. Besides it’s Buckton that had those Dashites visit them last season.”

The other stallion replies, “Yeah, I know, and Two Horns said that his herd had a run in with a couple of lone pegasi awhile back, so who knows. Maybe we should put a night watch again for a while. Ya know, just in case.”

“High Hoof, I think ya are worrying bout nothing. Aint no pegasi within a hundred miles by now.” Tender Hoof's voice answers back.

He is so entranced with their conversation he does not hear the door open from the back of the building. He then hears a mares voice call out from right next to him, “Who are you? What are you doing here?”

By instinct he strikes her with the stinger on his power armor tail. It hits her in her throat, but not enough to keep her from screaming. As he looks at her, he notices she was carrying a foal who is on the ground screaming now. From inside the building he hears the shouts of the patrons yelling and hooves coming toward the door.

He begins to take flight and hears his sergeant call out over the radio, “The LT has been spotted, you know the procedure, let’s go.”

He knows what those orders mean. The death of the entire village. In horror he calls out to his ponies, “Cancel that order, I repeat cancel that order. Fall back to the recovery position.”

As he says this, he is about fifty feet in the air and he feels his suit seize up and falls to the ground. His suit is dead.

All he can do is watch as the rest of his squad goes about their work. He calls out over the radio, “For the love of the Goddesses they are innocent, there are mares and foals there. Don’t do this.” Right after this his radio goes dead and all he can do is watch his troopers as they massacre the entire village.

Once it is done his sergeant approaches him and his radio clicks back on. He hears the disdain in the sergeant voice as he is told, “Lieutenant. You are under arrest for failing in the execution of your duty by disobeying orders while in hostile country. This is considered an offense of treason against the Grand Pegasus Enclave.”

He screams back, “For what? We did not need to kill them, there were no Dashites here. They were innocent ponies, just trying to live.”

“Sir, that does not matter. You allowed them to see you. You refused to follow the orders as per standard operating doctrine. You Sir are a traitor.” His sergeant says coolly. Then he continues. “Your radio will no longer transmit, and power will only be returned to your suit to allow your return to base. If you attempt to deviate or escape, I will kill you sir. Do you Understand?”

Yes, he remembers his duty. But duty should include doing what is right, not just what is legal and ordered.

He jumps as he hears a gavel slap the bench, and he hears the Judge ask, “Do you understand?”

He shakes his head and looks at the judge and says, “Excuse me sir?”

The Judge then repeats himself, “Lieutenant Sunset, you have been convicted of failure to perform your duty, disobeying orders and Treason against the Grand Pegasus Enclave. You have done this through your haven giving illegal orders that countermanded set operating doctrine.  For this you will be immediately dishonorably discharged from the Armed Forces of the Grand Pegasi Enclave. You will then be branded with the mark of a traitor, known to some as Dashites. You will then be excommunicated from all Enclave territory. If you attempt to return or come into contact with other Enclave personnel you will be summarily executed. Do you understand?”

He nods his head, and looks over and sees one of the Guards has a red-hot branding Iron in his mouth, he turns slightly and sees another the same way. Finally, he says, “Let’s get this over with.”

Both Irons strike his flanks, right over his compass cutie marks. He screams in pain and both of his hind legs fail him as he collapses onto the floor. His vision goes first white, then black as the pain overcomes him and he passes out.

When he comes to, he is in the ready room of one of the scout platoons. He is told, “On your hooves traitor.”

As he is trying to stand, he is suddenly kicked and bitten by the members of the squad all of them yelling 

“Move Traitor!” 

“We should kill you!”

 “Who do you think you are? You traitor.”

Eventually he is able to get to his hooves. His left eye is swollen shut. His right ear is burning in pain and he feels blood running down it along the side of his head and side. He is having a hard time breathing and he has extreme pain from several spots on one side. 

He says nothing but puts his head down and tucks his tail under him as he slowly follows them to the departure station. Four troopers and a Captain in power armor escort him to the vertibuck. They shove him inside and climb in after him.

As he feels the vertibuck takeoff he watches the cloud city of Thunderhead recede below them along with everypony he knows including his family. He realizes he never even got to say goodbye to them. He then sees an opening in the clouds below them and scans the sky.  As the aircraft dives for the opening he looks up and sees the sun in the sky. He watches it until they dip through the opening which closes right behind them.

They fly for what seems to be an hour, in silence except for the roar of the aircraft engines, below the cloud cover. They take him to the middle of nowhere, near a mountain with a forest several kilometers south of it. Finally, they land and he is thrown out of the vertibuck and onto the ground. They give him nothing. But before the door closes on the vertibuck he hears the voice of his former corporal as she yells to him, “Sorry Sunset, but we are only doing our duty and following orders.”

Then the door is slammed shut and the vertibuck quickly climbs and heads back towards the cloud deck within a few minutes it is no longer visible.

As he looks around, he sees nothing familiar. He begins to walk cautiously toward a ragged bunch of trees. Beyond which he sees what appears to be an abandoned village. He continues past the trees and as he gets close to the village, he sees a small group of ponies, all of them dirt bounds, approaching him.

When they are close enough a light green unicorn with a yellow mane and tail approaches him cautiously and tells him, “Stay calm, we are friends here, I am Trauma Care.”

Sunset is grateful but confused and asks, “Who are you ponies and why would you help me?”

The unicorn smiles and tells him We are just fellow wastelanders who are tired of the pain and suffering we see others go through and we feel it is our duty to help any others in the wastelands who need it. We only ask that you do the same someday also. Now let’s get those wounds treated.”

Sunset smiles at the unicorn and tells him, “Thank you so much. Don’t worry, I will repay ya for this by helping others too.”

Trauma Care smiles at this as he says, “That is all we ask. We cannot change the wastelands all at once, but we can make them better, slowly, one act at a time.”

 After he is done treating him, Trauma Care tells Sunset, “Ok, most of your wounds are healed. I am sorry but I could not save most of your right ear. That and you will have a couple of scars. I am just happy I got to you before you punctured a lung from those broken ribs on your left side. But you should be alright. You are lucky they did not damage your wings.”

Sunset nods his head. He takes a deep breath and says, “Yeah I guess I was lucky. It is too bad though that most of those that did this to me were once my own troopers.”

He sees Trauma Care whence before he says, “I can only imagine how that had to be. I am sorry my friend.”

Sunset stays with them for almost a year after this. He becomes a part of the community and learns from them how to survive in the wastelands. In repayment he teaches them what he knows about the ways of the Enclave scouts.

One day after one of his talks with Trauma Care and the others he tells them. “I am sorry to say it, but I feel guilty about teaching you so many techniques that could get some of my former comrades killed.”

Trauma Care lays a hoof on his shoulder and tells him, “True, but you also taught us how to save lives, even those who try to take ours and for that we are very grateful. I had no idea about some of those advanced techniques you used for injured wings or even battlefield first aid.”

Sunset closes his eyes and tells them, “Trauma, I am also afraid that if word gets out that I am here, the Enclave may come after me and kill anypony in their way. Because of that I guess I feel the need to say goodbye.”

“Ok, my friend, we do understand. But please stay until morning at least.” Trauma Care asks him.

Sunset agrees and, in the morning, they give him a set of saddlebags. One of which is yellow and has three butterflies on it. He smirks when he sees it and tells them, “Thanks, but do you really think I am in the same ranks as those of the Ministry of Peace?”

Trauma Care and the others all smile at him and Trauma tells him, “Sunset, several of us are descended from members of that ministry. We help where we can. Please understand we consider you one of us and ask that you remember our duty to help others so that we can make this world better.”

Sunset chokes up a bit. Gives Trauma Care and several others a brief hug then tells them goodbye as he takes off and begins to find his way in the wastelands.

In a short time, he finds his first weapon. He takes an old bolt action rifle from below the body of a dead earth pony that was alone in the rocks. He still tries to help others, but he also never forgets they could just as easily kill him. He lives like this for another three years on his own.

Then one day he is flying low and below him he sees a pure black earth pony. The earth pony is carrying a shotgun and he also wears a pistol on his hip. But then Sunset also notices that he looks lost. Not just in the sense of direction, but also purpose. The other thing he notices is that this stranger is wandering toward the Shatterhoof Correctional Facility.

Sunset circles once to check the area one more time, then he approaches the pony cautiously. When he knows that the buck has seen him, but is taking no hostile action, he walks up to him and introduces himself. “Howdy stranger, my name is Sunset, you look like you could use a hoof.”

He sees the look of desperation on the stranger’s face as he slowly nods.

Sunset then tells him, “Friend, first off, you are heading the wrong way. That trail will lead you straight to Shatterhoof and the slavers there.”

He sees the stranger shake his head slowly and then hears him say, “Thank you. I guess I should go.”

Sunset can tell that this stranger has something going on so he asks him, “Anything I can do to help you?”

The stranger shakes his head again. Finally, Sunset asks him, “Well, I already told you my name, what is yours?”

The stranger looks surprised and tells him, “Trouble.”

At first Sunset is confused and then he realizes that is his name, but he jokes, “Common now, what is your name, I aint lookin for no trouble now.”

The other stallion finally realizes it is a joke and smiles slightly and tells Sunset, “Thank you, that is the first time I have laughed in a week. Actually, my full name is Trouble Water, but most just call me Trouble.”

Sunset can sense something inside this pony is very hurt so he asks, “What happened last week?”

Trouble is at first sullen and quiet, then tells him, “My, my wife and son. They were killed by raiders. Over by Ponyville.”

Sunset looks at him with compassion and asks, “How many were there?”

“Over one hundred of them. I heard one of them mention the Dragon.”

Sunset's eyes go wide with fear as he too has heard of the Dragon. Even as an Enclave scout the Dragon was known to be a dangerous opponent. He then says, “Trouble, we need to let others know he is there. Let’s say we head on over to New Appleloosa and let them know there.”

They are heading south for the second day toward New Appleloosa when Trouble sees something in the sky and points it out to Sunset and asks, “Hey Sunset, what is that thing there?”

Sunset looks and tells him, “They call them vertibucks Trouble, and the last time I saw one was when it dropped me off down here.”

Trouble then asks, “So what do you think they are doing down here then?”

Sunset smiles sadly and tells his friend, “The same thing we are Trouble. They are doing what they consider their duty, now let’s make sure they don’t see us, then get back on our way, we have a job to do.”

Trouble smiles at him and says, “Yep, I guess we all have our duty, but ya know you sound like my sister Tar when you mention it.” as they head into a thicket and watch the vertibuck flying low and at high speed. It lands in the distance and they see a lone pegasus be tossed out and left behind as the machine lifts off and returns the way it came.

Sunset looks at Trouble and nods his head, “Yep, and that duty can come at a cost. Let’s go see if we can help him and then we head on down the trail to New Appleloosa.”

Together they climb out of the bushes and go to help the injured and abandoned pegasi. To do their duty and try to make things a little better with one more small act at a time.
> Enclave: Clouds by Salted Pingas
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

I’d lost track of how many times I’d checked my power armor’s integrated weapons, eyes sweeping across the readouts on my E.F.S. The high-capacity spark batteries were loaded, dump capacitors uncharged, and the manual safeties engaged. Condition three. It would take only a fraction of a second to get the capacitors charged, putting the weapons in condition one. From there, all I’d have to do was disengage the safeties and key a firing sequence.

I hoped it wouldn’t come to that.

Two power-armored pegasi waited stoically to either side of the door leading to the Cassiopeia’s bridge. I didn’t need my E.F.S. to display their IFF transponders as ‘Chief Air Sergeant Winter Weather’ and ‘Ensign Dewdrop Meadow’ to know who they were. 

I stopped in front of them, looking into both goggled faces before speaking, “Ready?”

The two exchanged glances as best they could without being able to see each other’s faces. There was a nervousness in the way they stood, the curve of their backs and how their armored wings were held against their sides.

“If this goes south…” Meadow trailed off after she and Weather turned back to me.

“If this goes south, take me into custody and jump ship the first chance you get,” I answered without pause, “Don’t take brands for my sake.”

“Ready,” Weather’s baritone voice was uncertain.

“Ready,” Meadow gulped and recited a prayer under her breath. For all our sakes, I hoped her gods were listening.

I let out a steadying breath and glanced at my weapon status again. They were still in condition three.

The bridge opened up before us, a shallow V-shape of control seats facing the wide, virtual viewport. Displays created a digital picture of what lay in front of the Cassiopeia, fed by the numerous cameras mounted across the armored hull. Almost two weeks ago they’d have shown endless cloudscapes below. But now that the Lightbringer controlled the weather, it was the mottled brown and gray of the wasteland that took up the bottom portion of the screens.

Colonel Sand Dune stood in the raised commander’s dias centered and behind the control seats. He looked up from a coffee mug that proclaimed: “Skipper #1” as he was taking a quick sip. We approached him at a casual trot.

Out of my peripheral vision I could see that Meadow and Weather had already slid into a ‘combat-L’ to either side of me. Their bodies were perpendicular to each other and their muzzles facing Colonel Dune. If things went to hell, they both had perfect firing lines on him with no risk of catching each other in a crossfire. I wondered briefly if the Colonel had noticed; his casual smile told me no.

“Good morning, Captain Flier,” he greeted me after a satisfied “Ahh,” lowering the mug from his muzzle with a wing, “Roving the decks, I see. How is the security of my ship?”

“Good, sir, I have nothing to report,” I could say smartly, prompting him to give the order to “Carry on,” and I could leave the bridge and that would be the end of it. No need to risk my life or my career.

“What is our current destination, sir?” I asked instead.

I watched his lips start to form the words “Carry on,” but then freeze and drop briefly into a frown, “Oh,” he said, then his thin smile returned and he answered: “Cotton Valley.”

“And our mission, sir?” I prompted.

Colonel Dune’s frown returned again, remaining this time as he said: “To quell the civil uprising there, take back the city and restore order through any means necessary. Has your terminal been down? I should have thought you’d received my email.”

“And it is your intention to follow through with these orders to the letter?”

“I hope you’re not questioning my loyalty to our grand enclave, Captain…” he brought up his wing, taking a careful sip of his coffee. I could almost see him rewind the conversation in his head as he drank, evaluating every word, trying to figure out where this was going.

“Your loyalty isn’t in question, sir. But for the sake of clarity, is that a yes? You do intend to follow through with these orders?” It was too late to stop now.

Colonel Dune took another sip from his coffee, a calculative look behind his eyes.

“Yes, Captain,” he finally lowered the mug again, “But might I ask w—”

“Ensign, note the time,” Colonel Dune’s gaze chilled as I cut him off.

“Time is zero nine five four hours, sir,” Ensign Meadow said from beside me. Colonel Dune almost startled at her voice, turning slowly to her and then Chief Weather as if noticing them for the first time. 

Now he saw the position he was in.

“XO, to the bridge!” Colonel Dune barked into a panel on his control dias, his mug clinking as he set it down. Some of the pegasi at the controls glanced back at the spectacle unfolding behind them, whispering to each other.

“Sir,” I started, lending authority to my voice and emboldened by the fact that I had crossed the point of no return, “You have just admitted that you intend to follow illegal orders and partake in an unjust war against our civilian population…”

“Get off my bridge!” Colonel Dune sneered at me, waving a dismissive hoof as I continued.

“...You have done so while of sound mind and judgement, deliberately and seriously…”

“You are relieved of your command, Captain!” He snarled, trying to talk over me.

“...Therefore, under G.P.E. code ten chapter forty-seven, sub-section nine dash two, it is my duty as the security officer of this vessel…”

“I will have you branded a dashite and thrown featherless from the clouds!” Colonel Dune roared. Behind me, the bridge door slid open and our executive officer: Lieutenant Colonel Wire Rack stumbled quickly inside, a rear-facing camera on my helmet displaying her alarmed expression on my E.F.S.

“...to relieve you of duty and take command of this vessel, the Raptor-class cloudship Cassiopeia...”

“Excuse me,” Lieutenant Colonel Rack skittered between Ensign Meadow and me, putting herself next to Colonel Dune as if that might do something. Tactically it was stupid, it put her right in our line of fire. A more sound move would have been to stay somewhere behind us, force us to shift formation to cover all threats. Colonel Dune didn’t seem to notice her, his livid gaze fixed solely on me, a vein throbbing in his scalp as if he were straining to will me out of existence with his mind. 

“...until such a time as a proper and just authority can be assigned to replace me,” I finished, hot blood coursing through my ears as adrenaline pumped through my veins. The sensation of getting it all out was terrifying and exhilarating all at the same time, any sense of doubt wiped clean from my mind.

Silence fell across the bridge.

“What’s happening?” Lieutenant Colonel Rack whispered to Dune, looking between him and me with alarm.

“XO, bear witness,” Dune intoned, “Captain Fleet Flier, you just signed your own dishonorable discharge papers. For gross insubordination against a superior officer of the Grand Pegasus Enclave you are officially relieved of duty!” he growled the last word, standing tall. He cast a look down his nose at Meadow and Weather, “Ensign, Chief. Please take Captain Fleet Flier into custody and lock him in the brig.”

Nopony moved, all eyes pointed at the spectacle taking place on the bridge. Even the crewponies at the bridge control stations had their eyes glued to us. If we had been hurtling towards the ground, nopony would have realized it till we had crashed.

I cued my radio, “Juxtaposition, over.”

There was a faint crackle in my ear bloom, then: “Roger. Out.”

The steady thrum of the Cassiopeia’s engines warbled into silence, the cloudship drifting to a slow hover and resting on its bed of clouds. I saw Meadow’s sides deflate in my peripherals and fought hard to contain a sharp sigh of my own. I had won, the ship belonged to me now.

“What was that!?” Dune scowled at the digital view screens, “What did you do!?” He scowled at me, “Helm!” He glared down at the central crewpony in the V-shape, the mare blinking back at him for a moment, “Helm!” I could almost hear his voice give out as he roared at her.

“A-aye, sir!” She jumped in her seat and scrambled to turn back to her controls, staring at them in confusion for a moment. Clarity came after a short pause and she worked her controls with forehooves and wings, “N-no...no response, sir! Engines are offline.”

“Engineering, respond!” Dune jabbed a pinion into a comms panel. “Engineering!”

“Engineering is with me, sir. Engines remain offline until I say otherwise,” I told him, “Ensign, Chief, take the Colonel into custody.”

“Now wait just a goddamn...” Dune wheeled about, knocking his mug to the deck where it shattered. He hardly noticed as the two power-armored ponies began advancing, “Don’t you dare lay your hooves on me you bastards, you filthy, misbred, dashite pieces of filth not fit to be the shit beneath the hooves of—”

Within the same second that Dune’s yellow dot on my E.F.S. turned red, I fired.

Almost faster than the neurons in my brain could process it, I armed my capacitor, disengaged the safety, and fired my left weapon. Twin darts sprouted from Dune’s frothing jowls and the capacitor discharged with a crackle of electricity. My former CO’s body went rigid, muscles standing tense beneath his hide, and then he toppled over, twitching but alive.

Chief Weather used his muscled mass to pull Dune out of the command dias and pin him to the deck as he came to. The darts of my taser tugged at Dune’s face as Weather pulled them free.

“I’ll have your hides!” Dune snarled as Chief Weather cuffed his left forehoof and wings together against his back, hobbling the livid pegasus, “I’ll peel off your cutie marks myself, you hear me!?” he spat at me, the wad of phlegm landing near my armored hooves, “Brand you with a hot iron!”

I ignored him as Weather pulled the now-hobbled Dune out of the bridge with Meadow in the lead. I turned to where Lieutenant Colonel Rack was cowering on the deck, “Ma’am, as the acting CO of this ship, I’d strongly advise that you stay in your quarters.”

For a moment I thought she might resist, try to take command herself and thwart me. Then I remembered who I was dealing with as I noted the dark stain that had formed in the seat of her trousers. The pants-pissing mare didn’t even bother with a response as she skittered back out of the bridge with a frightened nicker.

I let a large breath fill my lungs, then exhaled loudly.

It was done.

I cued my radio again, “Aurora cherries, over.”

Static danced into my ear again, “Roger, out.” The voice sounded as relieved as I was. I owed Captain Spot Weld and his entire engineering department a few beers for taking my side in this. I’d happily pay for it if we managed to survive what came next.

Focusing back on my current problems, I realized the bridge crew was staring at me with mixed looks of excitement and fear, if there was any resentment or spite it was well hidden. I’d have to watch who I put in positions of control, there were certain to be more enclave loyalists aboard.

I cleared my throat and the whole lot of them flinched, “If any of you wish to leave your stations, you should do so now.” At a few nervous glances, I added in a calm voice: “This is a shit situation the council has put us in. No punitive action will be taken, I promise you. If  any of you are uncomfortable taking orders from me, I won’t force you to.”

“Sir…” I turned to the lanky weapons officer, Lieutenant Spectral Prism if memory served.

“Lieutenant?” I asked.

“Are you going to make me shoot civilians, sir?” Her tone was even and measured.

I shook my head, “No.”

Lieutenant Prism nodded and turned back to her station, the other crewponies exchanging glances and following suit.

“Comms,” I stepped up into the commander’s dias.

“Comms, sir,” the Air Sergeant at the communications controls answered.

“Keep our ears open and our mouth shut. Transponder off.”

“Comms copies, sir!” I could hear the grin in his voice as he tapped out a quick command. I saw the external communications and transponder buttons blink out on the command dias. I also started seeing our engines warming back up now that I’d given the all clear.

“Navigation, same to you: put us in EMCON, nav radars off.”

“Sir,” Navigation nodded and more lights on my dias winked out.

“Helm,” I turned to the mare.

“Helm coming back online, sir.”

“Take us bearing three two degrees, maintain altitude, cruising speed. Let’s put some distance between here and our last active transponder signal.”

“Bearing three two degrees, cruising speed, aye.” As engine power returned the digital viewport shifted and the deck rumbled as we began to accelerate on our new heading.

‘Council’s not going to like that,’ I mused, turning to the command dias and finding the switch for the 1MC. When I flicked it and cleared my throat, everyone onboard heard me do so.

“Good morning,” I started, “This is acting CO Captain Fleet Flier speaking. At approximately ten hundred hours I relieved Colonel Sand Dune of duty on the grounds of waging an unjust war against our civilian population.” I paused to let that sink in, thinking over my next words before speaking them, “He was following illegal orders given by the High Council itself, but we will not target defenseless civilians just because they want answers and accountability for the actions taken during the war.

“Henceforth, the Cassiopeia is declared a free vessel of the pegasus race. We will take no further orders from the council or the admiralty until it can be determined that those orders are lawfully given and in the best interest of our people. I can’t imagine that those still loyal to the old ways of the sky will take that lightly and once they discover our treachery they will come after us and they will try to take this cloudship back by force.

“I understand if many of you are uncomfortable with this and no actions will be taken against those not wishing to follow my orders. Should any of you choose to jump ship then you are free to do so and go in peace.

“But,” I bit out the word to make sure ponies were paying attention, “If any deliberate actions are taken that can be deemed detrimental to this ship or its crew, those responsible will be taken into custody and placed in the brig. Acting CO out.” I flicked the switch back off, looking up to see the bridge crew turn quickly back to their controls, smiles on most of their faces.

‘And that is that,’ I thought as I came to terms with what I’d just done.


 *    *      *      *    * 
 

Three hours later I was peering over charts at the commander’s dias, my power armor packed away in the armory. The bridge crew had all seemed to relax when I’d returned in my haze-gray working uniform, the unreadable goggles and bristling weapons of my power armor having put them on edge. I looked up when Navigation muttered something, then turned back towards me.

“Raptor Vitriolic has changed course, now on approach vector bearing one zero five, just about a hundred twenty nautical miles out,” he reported “She’s accelerated to three hundred knots, fast cruise.”

With a series of wing taps I had the digital charts on the commander’s dias focus back on us and then zoom out until the Vitriolic appeared off towards our starboard less than twenty nautical miles from the horizon. The only reason we could see the Vitriolic on the map was because it still had its transponder turned on, which meant the only reason they’d spotted us was a sharp-eyed crewpony on their scopes.

‘So much for finding a quiet little spot in the clouds to wait all this out…’ I mentally grumbled.

“Helm, maintain course and speed, but be ready to get us moving,” I ordered, the mare responding with an affirmative, “Comms, have they hailed us at all?” A glance at my dias told me we were still running silent.

“No, sir,” Comms shook his head, “If and when they do?”

“Remain silent,” I said and Comms nodded, “Sensors, what do they look like in IR? Their guns hot?”

“Hard to tell for sure at this range, sir,” the mare shook her head, eyes glued to a number of sharp screens, “But it looks like they’re cold.”

“Roger,” I nodded, “keep one of our cameras on them, if anything changes let me know. If they get within fifty nautical miles start saturating their missile hatches with lidar, I want to know if they open.”

“Sir,” the mare got a little tense at that, but everypony would be getting tense at the prospect of fighting another Raptor. The threat to our vessel aside, there were fellow pegasi aboard the Vitriolic, perhaps brothers and sisters.


 *    *      *      *    * 


“Still nothing on comms?” I asked when the Vitriolic got within fifty nautical miles of us. It would be hard for their missiles to miss at this range, our countermeasures losing effectiveness the closer the other vessel got.

“Nothing, sir,” Comms replied with unease, “Should I hail them?”

“Negative.” I turned, “Sensors?”

“Lidar’s coming back, sir,” the mare peered at the odd-looking image, “missile hatches are closed and infrared is showing their weapons are cold. They’re still in a non-threat posture.”

A chilling thought came to me, a report I’d read about the battle over Red Eye’s citadel. Maybe they didn’t need weapons to take us out of the sky.

“No sign of pink clouds coming out of it?” Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Comms tense and turn his volume knob way down.

“None, sir,” an edge of worry had squeezed its way into the mare’s voice.

“Wait, sir…” I turned back to Comms, watching as the pony squinted at the digital viewport, “Hey, Dew, can you magnify their bridge?”

“Sure,” the sensors mare replied, the viewport magnifying until the Vitriolic’s bridge filled a screen. Now that he’d drawn attention to it, I noticed a glimmer on what should have been a matte-gray, non-reflective surface.

“Sir, they’re...I think they’re hailing us with the old signaling mirror,” his lips moved silently for a moment as he watched the glimmer flashing out a pattern.

“Iron. Vanner. Ergot. Are they spelling out ivy? No,” he translated the flashing pattern into the phonetic alphabet, “Ostler. Luna. Iron. Vanner—”

“Olive?” I frowned for a second before the message clicked, “Comms, prep our signal mirror, message as follows…” I waited for his affirmative nod, a hoof pressed against the signal controls, “Bridle.” His hoof tapped the codes out as I spoke them, “Rodeo. Apple. Neigh. Colt. Hoof.”

The signal mirror on the Vitriolic winked out after a second. Maybe they really just wanted to talk. 

Maybe it was a trick.

I tried to cue my power armor’s radio before remembering my power armor was in the armory. Instead, I had to find the right key on my dias.

“Ensign Meadow, Chief Weather, get a repelling and boarding party ready. Full loadout, but keep things calm, this is just a precaution, over.”

“Ensign Meadow copies. Out.” The mare’s uncertain voice crackled back.

“Weapons, arm cannons and one harpoon missile,” I turned back to the bridge.

“Sir,” Lieutenant Prism got out of her seat, turning to me with a cold look, “I’m not going to open fire on another Raptor.”

“What if they shoot first?” I countered and the mare’s look faltered, “I’m not ordering anyone to fire the first shot,” I assured her, letting my gaze move across every face on the bridge, “But I want to be ready if they decide to fight us. Are you willing to defend your life and the life of everypony onboard? If not, let me know now so I can get a replacement ready before things start kicking off.”

Lieutenant Prism’s cold look floundered, her face twisting through a series of thoughts and emotions. After a moment’s struggle, she sat back down at her controls.

“Arming cannons and one harpoon,” she stressed the word, “Turrets locked and missile hatches closed.”

“Load up a disabling firing sequence, prioritize cannons and missile hatches. If they twitch we’re going to make sure they can’t shoot us and get the hell out of dodge.” I paused a moment, and added: “Send the activation key to my station.”

Lieutenant Prism’s hunched shoulders relaxed a bit and she sent the key to my dias. Responsibility for attacking my fellow pegasi was now mine.

“Electronic Warfare, same for you. Prepare to burn out their sensors and blind any missiles they get off, send the key to me if you’d like.”

“Roger, sir.” The pony replied. I didn’t see another activation key, but our jamming suites went from red to yellow on my dias as they were armed, “Ready.”

“All right, then,” I said, watching the Vitriolic grow ever closer on our screens and chart, “Let’s see what they want to talk about.”


 *    *      *      *    * 


The Vitriolic pulled up beside us without incident, our vessels matching an easy fifty knots and pulling close enough to dock clouds together. Once parallel, both vessels increased their lateral cloud production until they touched, locking together on one large cloud. It provided both a stable platform to cart supplies back and forth and kept an errant updraft from knocking the ships into each other.

As I stood on the quarterdeck, watching the other Raptor disgorge a small team of power-armored pegasi and one in a working uniform, I regretted not being in my armor. My E.F.S. would tell me immediately if they were hostile, a targeting suite giving me the best way to cut them down if it came to that.

“Five yellow dots,” Ensign Meadow spoke up beside me, armed and armored.

“Thanks,” I let out a breath I hadn’t known I was holding. The ponies from the Vitriolic were walking across our shared cloud cover, heads down in the fast winds, before reaching our covered gangway.

“You were getting jittery, sir,” I saw her flash a reassuring smile in my peripherals.

High altitude winds howled briefly as the door to the quarterdeck slid open and I tried not to tense up as the Vitriolic’s pegasi stepped on board. The four power armored pegasi fanned out, looking casually about the room with their mounted weapons pointed down. The fifth stood a head taller than me, though his face was lined with wrinkled skin and his mane was mostly an aged gray. He regarded me curiously for a moment before speaking.

“Colonel Oak Tenet, requesting permission to come aboard,” he raised a wing in casual salute.

“Permission granted, Colonel,” I returned the salute, “I’m Captain Fleet Flier, acting CO of the free cloudship Cassiopeia.”

“That sounds like an interesting story,” the Colonel prompted.

“Colonel Sand Dune, our commanding officer, received illegal orders from the high council to target civilians,” here was where things might get rough. But I had no doubt that Colonel Tenet’s power-armored troops could detect Chief Weather and the eight others he had with them as yellow dots waiting in the next room, “He intended to follow through with these orders while fully aware and cognizant of what he was doing. At about ten hundred local, I took him into custody and assumed command.”

“And now where is he?”

“The brig under guard.”

“Then you’re not pirates, thank goodness,” the Colonel chuckled and his troops visibly relaxed.

“No, sir,” I confirmed, wondering if I’d just dodged a massive plasma blast, “We are acting under the full pretenses of the law, but we are also not acting on nor accepting orders from the high council or the admiralty. We are a free ship of the pegasus race.”

“Hm,” Colonel Tenet gave a sage nod as if I hadn’t just admitted I was essentially a traitor, “And what do you intend to do with this free ship of yours?”

“I certainly don’t intend to participate in this illegal war against the pegasi. I will be taking my ship to safe harbor and keeping my ponies alive.”

“Then perhaps we can assist each other,” Colonel Tenet proposed, “I’m much too old to be a rebel, so I can’t help or harbor you, but I’ve a slight issue to contend with, if you’ll hear me out?”

I nodded.

“I’ve prisoners of war,” the Colonel said simply, “and prisoners not of war, in my brig. My orders are to execute them, the Enclave has no use for enemy mouths to feed with the farmland all but gone.”

“It’s an illegal order, just free them,” I countered, tossing a glance to his ship, “Join us, we could use more horsepower, the enclave is less likely to risk taking down two free Raptors.”

“I’m too old for rebellion,” Colonel Tenet repeated with a tired shake of his head, “I thought I might send them over to you for proper disposal instead.” Which, of course, meant: ‘let them go,’ “We’ve experienced some issues with our weapons and discovered that they’re unsafe to use even in executions.” His tone of voice told me it was bullshit, but bullshit that no one would be able to sniff out or prove to be false.

I resisted the urge to glance at Ensign Meadow or out the hall towards where Chief Weather was still waiting. This was my ship now and that meant this was my decision, I wasn’t going to force anyone else to share the blame.

“We’ll accept your prisoners, sir.” I nodded, earning a small smile, “And sir, would you mind if we left our quarterdecks open for some time before we depart? There may be some among my crew who need to jump ship and I’d appreciate them having someplace safe to go to.”

“I shall make it so,” Colonel Tenet nodded again, “Rest assured, they will be safe with me.”

“And sir, I’m certain the council won’t appreciate us taking one of their Raptors. If you’re ordered to fire on us in the future...”

“The Vitriolic’s and old rust-bucket of a Raptor,” Colonel Tenet assured me with a clever smile, “The only reason we’re flying now is on account that there’s too few Raptors left. I’m sure something will go wrong the second we try to fire our weapons at something that doesn’t warrant shooting, could be the propellers start acting up if we’re asked to chase you down, engines like to overheat and they take a good long while to cool off. Who knows?” The old buck smiled and winked, a soft chuckle escaping his lips. It faded instantly when I accepted an offered hoof to shake, replaced by a deadly calm that made me shrink back a bit, “But if someone fires on my ship I won’t hesitate to burn them to the ground.” His hoof gripped mine tightly until I nodded and his smile returned, “I’ll have the prisoners transferred over.” The Colonel issued me a smart salute and I returned it, “Best of luck to you, Captain.”


 *    *      *      *    * 


I wasn’t quite sure what to expect as the Vitriolic’s large hangar door opened and the prisoners were marched across the clouds. While in hindsight it made sense, I hadn’t expected to see that more than half were griffons and the rest pegasi. They’d all been stripped and cuffed, but a pair of crates containing their belongings followed them into our hangar bay.

As promised, our vessels remained docked after the prisoner transfer, something I pointed out over the 1MC to any listening loyalists, before heading down to the hangar bay.

The prisoners were faced up against one bulkhead when I arrived, still cuffed and under the watchful gunsights of our power-armored security detail. If not for the current turn of events, I would have been the one in charge of keeping the prisoners secure. Now, Ensign Meadow was keeping a watchful eye on everyone.

“Sorting out their stuff,” Meadow gestured to the crates the Vitriolic’s ponies had brought over, “Just gonna pull batteries and bullets. We’re giving it all back?”

“We’re not pirates,” I answered.

“Good,” Meadow nodded, then grinned, “though I think you’d look good with an eyepatch, sir.”

I let out a quick snort of laughter and shook my head.

“Talons, by the look of it,” Meadow nodded her head towards the griffons, “Also, some dashites…” the way she said the word sounded strange, like she was only just beginning to understand its true meaning, “the rest all have cutie marks, no idea what’s up with them.”

“I’ll ask,” I said, and started over.

By the way their legs were shaking and the presence of cutie marks, I guessed the last four pegasi in the group were civilians. That, or they were on the verge of pissing themselves, perhaps a little of both.

The second to last of the four, an older and slightly rotund buck, spotted me as I approached. Bolstered by the fact I was in my working uniform and not armed to the teeth looking like a black bug of death, he managed to speak up.

“H-hey! Please, sir, we just want to go back to our home! Won’t you let us please just go!? I can pay you, please! No more cages, we were only on the ground for a little bit!”

“Relax,” I made a calming gesture with a wing, “We’re not going to hurt you. Just as soon as we sort out all the stuff over there,” I gestured to the crates, “We’ll send you on your way, okay?”

The portly buck nodded, but a voice to my left drew my eyes to the first dashite in the lineup, “I know bullshit when I smell it!” he scowled, sending a wad of spit towards the nearest armored guard, “That other bastard didn’t have the balls to put us all down, so now he’s pawned us off to you to do the dirty work. I bet you get off on that, don’t you, cloud-humper!?”

I scowled at the dashite, but didn’t engage, turning back to the portly buck, “How did you come to be prisoners aboard the Vitriolic?” When he looked at me funny, I added, “The other cloudship.”

“Our f-farm, well,” he made an explosive ‘fwoosh’ sound with his mouth in what was a very poor recreation of a sonic rainboom, “and so we went down to try and collect what we could of our fallen crop. Most of it was ruined,” he said with a sorrowful tone, the other three civilians hanging their heads as well, “We tried to come back up, but when we did soldiers took us into custody, said we were contaminated from below! We had to go under surveillance and drink lots of radaway, but my pee wasn’t even rainbow colored! We weren’t contaminated at all!”

“Yeah, numbnuts,” the dashite heckler turned his sneer to the portly buck, the four civilians scooting away at his harsh voice, “That’s because you’re a chump who’s been lied to his whole life! The enclave—”

“That’s enough out of you!” I growled at the heckler, directing his spite back at me.

“Bite me, you featherbrained hack!” His wing-cuffs rattled as he flipped me a rude gesture with one wing, “If I wasn’t in these cuffs—”

“Oh, ‘if you weren’t in those cuffs?’” I spat back over him, trotting over with a scowl. He steeled himself for a strike, but instead I took out a set of keys and undid his restraints. The dumbfounded look on his face told me the action had startled him more than any strike would have, “Is any of the stuff in those crates yours?”

“Yeah…” he said slowly, rubbing at one wing with a hoof.

“Then wait here until we check it all,” not wanting to have to repeat myself more than once, I stepped back to where none of the prisoners would have to strain to look at me, “Listen up! This is not an enclave vessel, we are a free ship of the pegasi! As soon as we clear all the weapons and any explosives, we’ll be returning your confiscated items and you’ll be free to go.”

“You’re not taking my ammo!” A large griffon growled back from the other end of the line.

“You can have it back once you’re off my ship,” I replied, “But until that time, no one but me is armed for your own safety.”

“‘For my own safety!’” The griffon parroted back at me with a laugh, “Sure!” The word dripped with sarcasm.

I ignored her and turned to the civilians, unlocking their restraints.

“Can I get you folks anything? Food? Water? Escort to the head...restrooms?”

“He’s always hungry,” the mare standing next to the portly buck said, though a nervous edge made the jest sound forced. I pegged her as the buck’s wife, then. The other two were younger and shared some characteristics, sons, maybe?

“I think we’re fine, thank you,” the portly buck rubbed the hoof that had been locked to his wings, an uncertainty to his voice, “But you said...you’re not with the enclave? Why wouldn’t you be with the enclave?”

I frowned, “How long have you been in custody? Since the day of sunshine and rainbows?” At his confused look, I added: “Wastelander’s term for the day your farm was destroyed.”

“About then, yes.”


 *    *      *      *    * 


It didn’t take long to fill the farmers in on the current situation above the ground. Civilians rising up against the leaders that had lied to them since their great-grandparents had been in diapers. Military forces being brought in to quell the uprising civilians through force. Even some of the griffons turned their ear holes towards me when I informed them of how I’d taken command of the Cassiopeia. By the time I’d finished, all the weapons had been made safe and my tense security detail was organizing and uncuffing the prisoners for them to take back their gear.

“Please!” The portly buck, now properly introduced as Cumin Seed, pleaded. “You have to take us there, to Cotton Valley! I have relatives that can help my family. We have to make sure they’re safe!”

“I can’t do that, sir,” I said with a sorry shake of my head, “by now, I’m sure the enclave has figured something went awry with the Cassiopeia. They’ll be sending more Raptors there to stop the uprising. I’m not here to start shooting at other pegasi, I need to keep my ponies safe. You’re free to stay on board as long as you like.”

Whatever pleading request Seed was about to make was halted as the large griffon spoke up again. 

“I’ve got no problem shooting at pegasi,” she drew our attention to her as she strapped on a set of wolf-gray body armor from beside the crate. Ignoring the weary looks of my power-armored pegasi, she trotted over and the farmers took a collective step back, “Looks like Gwen’s Grayskulls are for hire once again thanks to this ugly buzzard,” she jerked a casual talon towards me, missing my indignant look, “I don’t run a charity; you mentioned paying him to take you aboard this smelly haybale of a sky ship, what’ve you got?”

“Well, we didn’t salvage a whole lot from the farm…” Seed rubbed the back of his neck nervously as he stared up at the griffon’s impassive stare, “We managed to salvage a good number of seeds—”

“Lemme stop you right there, love handles. This beak?” The griffon, who I could only assume was Gwen, jabbed an index talon towards her beak, “It ain’t made for eating seeds.”

Seed gulped.

Gwen turned to me, “Captain bird-breath.”

“Captain Flier,” I corrected her with an annoyed look.

“I can read your name tag,” Gwen retorted without missing a beat, “Are you an asshole or are you gonna pay me to take these poor, sweaty farmers to their home in the clouds?”

“I…” I started, floundering as I realized that as much as I hated to admit it, that wasn’t such a bad idea. I didn’t want to just send these farmers packing into the wild skies for any number of things to go wrong, and I also didn’t want to take them where they wanted to go. The griffon mercenary solved that problem.

“Yeah, I can see those tiny little gears turning up there,” Gwen grinned to herself, poking a talon at my head, “This turkey’s got a good idea, yeah?”

“Don’t suppose you take pegasus currency?” I allowed.

“Not even a billion buzzardbucks,” Gwen replied, continuing before I could point out that’s not what our currency was called, “I won’t lead you on, I know what I want,” then she turned and screeched out, “Buzzard!”

“Buzz, buzz!” One of the dashites called out, making me frown as he cantered over in barding with the same gray color scheme as the griffons, the same white skull design on the shoulder pads. The bits of his hide I could see were covered in scars that had been made with sharp talons, “Yo! You need a dick to suck, boss? It ain’t much, but I’ve got mine!”

“Choke on my taint and die,” Gwen countered, jabbing him lightly in the side.

“Every time you fly in front of me, boss,” Buzzard and Gwen both turned back to us outsiders, their strange ritual complete. I looked between the two of them, stopping on Gwen who shrugged at my unasked question about a non-griffon talon.

“Followed me home one day,” was the only explanation she gave, then got back to business, “like any good pet owner, I want to accessorize. Give him some of your fancy power armor and it’s a deal. We fly your farmers to wherever they want and cut down any suckers that get in our way.”

“No need for the fancy shooters,” Buzzard patted the empty machine guns attached to his battle saddle, “I like mine.”

The me that had woken up this morning started going over lists of inventory and trying to figure out how I could possibly justify turning over top-of-the-line power armor to a dashite. The ponies in supply would faint at the mere mention of it. It was unthinkable to give up valuable enclave assets!

But that part of me had died, I now realized, the second I’d taken command of this ship. We were a free vessel of the pegasi and right now, four pegasi needed our help.

I matched Gwen’s cocky grin, “Let me see if I have anything that comes in scrawny.” 


 *    *      *      *    * 


The Vitriolic was the first to leave, flashing a quick farewell message that wouldn’t be detectable on the airwaves. They took off in an easterly direction. A quick muster from all of our divisions showed me that it’d taken on twenty-one loyalists from the Cassiopeia, including the XO. That left us with just over sixty crew left, plenty to keep us airborne with some minor changes to the schedules.

Tentatively, the non-talon dashites departed after that, dropping quickly away from the Cassiopeia as if staying any longer was hazardous to their health. The heckler from before flipped me another rude gesture before his dive.

It felt weird seeing Buzzard prancing around the hangar in his new power armor as Gwen talked with the farmers. The scarred dashite had taken it upon himself to paint the armor a haze gray with paint provided by our supply closets. At the very least it would make him stand out as not being one of our own...but ‘our own’ was a strange term now. 

Less than eight hours ago I’d been the security officer aboard the enclave Raptor Cassiopeia but now I was the CO of the free pegasus ship Cassiopeia. I’d taken on prisoners of war that had been slated for execution and given them back their weapons and armor before sending them on their merry way.

Not weird, I suddenly realized.

It felt good.

“CO to the bridge, CO to the bridge,” it took my brain a second to process that the call that came over the 1MC meant me.

It took another to process the alarm in the voice.

The alarm was still there when the doors slid open, the bridge crew turning their uncertain gazes to me. Somewhere deep down I was happy to see that none of them had jumped ship.

“You missed it, sir, but I got a recording,” Comms told me, a hoof hovering over a ‘Play’ button until I nodded, “They’re talking about us, sir, the Cassiopeia,” he prompted and started the recording.

“...was destroyed today by a dashite uprising in the city of Cotton Valley. It is unknown at this time how the terrorists managed to—” the radio broadcaster stopped mid sentence as I motioned for Comms to pause the recording.

“They’re saying that we were destroyed!?” I asked, Comms nodded.

“It gets worse, sir,” he hit ‘Play’ again after I motioned for the recording to continue.

“...bring the Raptor down, or what the casualties are at this time, but it is believed that everypony on board went down fighting for our proud enclave…”

“They’re lying,” I mumbled as the recording kept going, waving off Comms’ silent offer to pause it again.

“...A travel ban remains in effect for Cotton Valley and more Raptors are being sent to quell the unrest. For those of you just now tuning in, we’d like to remind you that earlier today dashite terrorists took the town hall and hung the local governor after wiping out the local troop garrison to a pony. It is believed that the civilian population is now being subjugated and branded by the terrorists or taken below the clouds for reasons unknown…” I stopped listening as the broadcaster went on to reach out to the victims with all of her heart and so on and so forth.

“Sir, should I turn the transponder back on?” Comms asked, killing the recording when he realized I’d stopped listening, “Let them know we’re still alive?”

“What? No. No, they’re baiting us, or that’s part of it at least. They have no idea what happened to us except that our transponder went off. But someone, somewhere wants a narrative where dashites in Cotton Valley killed a Raptor and are pillaging the town...” But still, what did that get them? They hardly needed justification to send more Raptors in.

“But if we turn the transponder on, the narrative dies, right? People realize that it’s all bullshit!” It took me a moment to realize that the pony had tears welling in his eyes, fear shaking his voice.

“If we turn the transponder back on, they send a ship to come figure out what really happened with guns hot and missiles ready. What they find is a bunch of dashite mutineers. It’s too late now, they’ll just sew it into the narrative. Maybe the Cassiopeia was actually captured, or they could just say we mutineed after some lawful order.

“But why bother with the narrative? If they were lying about the Cassiopeia were they lying about the terrorists as well?” None of my questions had answers.

“Show him the other recording, Drum,” Lieutenant Prism said. When I looked about the room, the same look of fright was on everyone’s face.

Comms, or Air Sergeant Drum, nodded quietly, “We got this a little bit after…” something caught in his throat as he gestured at the recording, switching tapes, “It’s from the Vitriolic.”

“...is Vitriolic,” I heard Colonel Tenet’s steady voice, “Our encrypted comms are down for the moment, but we confirm new orders to rendezvous at Cotton Valley. Can you please confirm shattered hoof status? Over.”

The room went silent and I could feel everypony’s eyes on me. There was a pause in the recording, but background static told me that someone was talking to the Vitriolic on an encrypted line, a conversation we weren’t privy to.

“Roger that, read you Luna Colt.” I jumped when the Colonel’s voice returned, “Vitriolic confirms: shattered hoof.”

“Oh, fuck,” I realized. Shattered hoof was the code phrase for: all friendly forces destroyed, blast the targeted area into oblivion.

They’d needed a justification to burn the city out of the sky. That’s what the narrative was about.

And it was all possible because I’d killed our transponder and given the enclave the ammunition they’d needed.

“Helm, plot a course to Cotton Valley. Full speed ahead,” even as I said it, I was turning to the door.

“Cotton Valley, full speed ahead, aye,” Helm said, the deck shifting beneath me as we were brought up to full speed. The bridge doors slid shut behind me on her last word.

I galloped back down to the hangar, nearly colliding with Ensign Meadow as she was coming back up. A scowling Gwen was thankfully just behind her.

“Sir, what’s going on!?” Ensign Meadow exclaimed at the same time that Gwen growled, “We can’t get off your stinking sky ship at this speed!”

I took a moment to catch my breath as the two fixed me with different looks.

“New course set,” I told Ensign Meadow, then turned to Gwen, “How would you like a ride?”


 *    *      *      *    * 


“Some of you may be wondering what’s going on,” when I spoke, my voice carried through the corridors of the Cassiopeia, “We have received word that the enclave intends to burn the cloud city of Cotton Valley out of the sky.” I could imagine the effects that was having on everyone onboard. Indifference from Gwen, terror from the farmers, alarm and sorrow and confusion from my crew. I didn’t care to think what Sand Dune thought of it as he sat in the brig, “We’re going to do our best to get there before them and…” I hesitated and hated myself for it, “and do whatever it takes to stop that from happening.

“We will be evacuating the city. It will require a large amount of time and horsepower to do, but if we can let the enclave burn an empty city then we’ll have won.” ‘The enclave’ I spoke the words with bitterness now, “However, the enclave is sending in more Raptors and we may not have the time to evacuate Cotton Valley. If this is the case, we may need to hold out on our own and cover their retreat. If we can draw the Raptors away without having to fire then all the better. If not, we’ll be defending a civilian population against armed intruders.” It was a hard pill to swallow, but I did it all the same, “We will do everything in our power to prevent that from happening, and should it come to that I will assume full responsibility no matter what happens.

“My offer of leniency still stands for any who do not wish to partake in armed conflict against the enclave. When we reach Cotton Valley, I will hold none of you against your will. You may go in peace. Acting CO Captain Fleet Flier out.” 


 *    *      *      *    * 


We overtook the Vitriolic that evening.

“They’re signaling something,” Air Sergeant Drum squinted at the flashing mirror on the viewscreen. The rest of us were listening to the open channel the vessel was broadcasting on.

“This is the Raptor Vitriolic,” Colonel Tenet’s calm voice said, as the Raptor slowed to a halt behind us, “Our encrypted line is still down and now we’re having trouble with our engines, we’re dead in the air and adrift. No vessels in sight to assist and minor leak in our cloud generators. Requesting Cotton Valley rendezvous be changed to our location, we could really use some help with these repairs, over.”

Silence filled the airwaves.

“Raptor Vitriolic copies. Thanks for the assist, you guys, see you when you get here. Out.” Everyone on the bridge breathed a sigh of relief, the old pony had bought us some time.

“Got their signal mirror message,” Air Sergeant Drum turned a grin to the rest of us, “‘Good luck.’”


 *    *      *      *    * 


The moon was rising when we arrived, engines overheating and cloud-generators sucking on vapor. The two other Raptors were set to rendezvous with the Vitriolic some time in the next few hours based on their transponder locations. I hoped Colonel Tenet could keep them busy long enough to evacuate the city.

Cotton Valley got its name from the cottony mass of clouds it was built atop of, cloud homes rising up from the bottom of a parabolic divot in the cloudscape. It looked a little worse for wear, but nothing like the anarchist nightmare the media hounds on the airwaves were making it out to be. 

I finally allowed our external communications to come back online once we were close enough, the power output low enough that any broadcasts would be unintelligible outside of a few dozen nautical miles.

It took some convincing to get folks in the city to respond, disbelief that the Raptor they’d allegedly destroyed was the one hailing them. Things started to become clear after we were given landing permission at the small airbase and two ponies came out to meet me.

The first was Major Pollen, a short, squat buck who assured me none of his troops had been killed. Their complement of ten skytanks and bombing chariots plus fifty power-armored troopers were all doing quite well. They’d stood down pretty much the exact second they’d received orders to fire on civilians. 

The second was a tall, airy mare named Mellowdew who assured me that she had just been an administrative clerk but was now the acting governor. The previous governor had most certainly not been dragged out into the streets and lynched (at least outside of a few effigies), she’d taken her own life in her office as the people ranted outside.

It cost me valuable hours of sitting down and reiterating what felt like the same point over and over again until it was driving me mad. But thankfully both ponies conceded to my evacuation plan in the end with one, simple condition: they needed a place to go.

I took a sip from my third cup of coffee that night (or was this my fourth?), trying to keep the liquid from sloshing up the sides of the mug on account of my jittery wings. Eventually I had to set the cup down next to Ensign Meadow’s on the old charts we had laid out. Chief Weather was hunched over his own mug, possibly asleep. I couldn’t blame him if he was.

We’d been poring over the charts for hours now, trying to find a suitable spot to move the denizens. Each had numerous dark circles where our mugs had been placed, picked up, and set down again in our search for someplace suitable. It didn’t help that the charts were probably decades out of date, if not centuries.

To make things worse, we now had a deadline; the Vitriolic was back underway with two other Raptors.

“They can all go to hell for all I’m starting to care,” Meadow grumbled crankily, pushing her coffee back and forth across the table. She stopped after a moment, bleary eyes showing shame with her helmet removed, “No, that’s an awful thing to say, I’m sorry.”

“I smell coffee,” I was too tired to be startled when Gwen marched into the small conference room like she was meant to be there. But I wasn’t too tired to scowl as she marched over and started pouring herself a cup. When she caught my look she didn’t stop pouring, “You said you’d feed us for the duration of the contract.”

“Haven’t you got Mr. Seed and his family back home already?” I grumbled back, too tired to care about the pilfered coffee.

“Wanted to drop a deuce in a real toilet before I headed back down to the wasteland,” the griffon shrugged, grabbing a talon-full of sweeteners and stuffing them into a pouch on her armor, “Normally I just follow my nose to find a toilet, but your vegetarian diets don’t really leave a scent trail to follow.”

“Ew,” Meadow didn’t bother turning around, her shoulders heaving with the weight of the word.

“That’s poop for you,” Gwen leaned against the coffee table, sipping from her mug and making a face, “Oh, geez, no wonder you buzzards tried to climb down from the sky; can’t brew a decent cup of coffee.”

“You have a wasteland coffee shop you recommend!?” I glowered at the griffon, “Because the ponies here won’t evacuate until we find them a new place to live!”

“Good one,” Gwen let out a snort of laughter, sipping at her cup and grimacing at the taste.

“How the hell is that funny!?” I snapped back.

The griffon gave me an odd look.

“Wait, wait, wait,” she held up an index talon, “the ponies here won’t evacuate because they want a new place to live? You’re serious right now?”

“I am not joking,” I growled out, hiding a yawn in another sip of coffee, “Do you know someplace where I can bring some six hundred pegasus refugees who’ve never set foot on solid ground before? Ponies down there are just as likely to shoot them as to enslave them or eat them.”

“You’re right, there isn’t anywhere below the clouds to take them…” she trailed off like that was supposed to mean something. When I didn’t catch it, she groaned and pulled out a chair, setting her mug on the table.

“Wake up, dickless!” Gwen announced, slapping Chief Weather on his armored back, “I think I’m about to blow your minds!”

“Bite me, turkey,” he growled, not moving from his hunched position.

“Not without some roasties and paprika,” she grinned savagely, looking at each of us in turn before turning back to me, “You’re thinking like a stupid pegasus that’s lived with the cloud cover all his life.”

“Oh, that’s the problem,” I grumbled, sipping my coffee.

“You’re stuck in your ways like a hard bowel movement,” Gwen said.

“Ew,” Ensign Meadow muttered again.

“Yep, poop, what an idea!” Gwen waved a pair of jazzy talons in front of herself.

“You’re just filled with crude...not alliteration, that’s not the word,” my thoughts went tumbling away from me.

“Metaphors,” Gwen answered, frowning around at our tired faces, “You ponies should really learn to catnap, been doing that all day and I feel great.”

“Are you going to get to a point any time soon?” I scrubbed my face, sitting upright in an effort to keep myself from falling asleep at the table.

“Move the city,” Gwen said.

“What?”

“Move. The. City,” she sounded the words out, “Take your big old fancy ship,” she tapped a talon on the table, “Take all your fancy wings,” she tugged at one of Chief Weather’s armored wings, which he angrily jerked back to his side, “And move the city. The answer’s been under you the entire day, your shit literally flies around on clouds! But you’ve been stuck in the mindset of a solid cloud cover for all your life, of thinking that the thing you walk on and screw on being something more than a big freakin’ cloud.

“I’ve got news for you: clouds move! If you’re afraid some big old mean pegasi are going to come by in some big old mean cloud ships and turn this place into vapor trails, then move the city somewhere else!”

It took me a second to get it.

Then I started to giggle.

And the giggle turned into a chuckle.

And the chuckle turned into a laugh.

There was no time to lose.


 *    *      *      *    * 


Colonel Oak Tenet frowned over his tea, soft breath cooling the scalding liquid as his old eyes watched the horizon. They should have been able to see it by now. After another minute of only scattered clouds as far as the eye could see, he opened a channel to his compatriots.

“This is the Vitriolic,” he started. He smiled as he could almost hear their collective groans, “our encryption is still acting up,” he said to anyone from here to the horizon with a ham radio and a pair of ears, “I hate to sound like a squabbling foal, but are we there yet? My charts seem to indicate the city should be very visible by now. Well within thirty NMI from here. Over.”

There was a long moment of silence and he wondered if the other two Raptors had decided that they were just going to ignore him from now on.

“This is the Serendipity on a secure channel, uhh, we’re seeing what you’re seeing. We should definitely see the city by now. Over.”

“Yeah, Screamin’ Firehawk here, we concur,” the accented voice paused, “What do y’all make of that? Over.”

As he watched the endless wisps of clouds too small to be the city, the corners of the Colonel’s wrinkly lips curled up in a sudden smile. He shook his head and hailed the other Raptors, “Well, colts, I don’t know about you, but it looks to me like our job here is done. The city has been reduced to ash and steam. I can handle the report, all vessels acted admirably in culling the dashite threat! Vitriolic out.” He clicked off the transmitter and laughed.

“What’s so funny, sir?” His XO inquired from his side.

“Clouds,” he grinned and took a sip of his tea.
> Enclave: A is for Away Down There in the Land of Traitors by Vic the Tricky Unicorn
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------


"Yeah well, whoever you are, I just dispatched a verti-assault team to your location. Have a nice day."






"This is Angel one seven! We are going down in Stratusburg sector Alpha Tango seven niner! Mayday!"

Gone...

It was just... gone. Everything. Everypony... I've never seen so much fire in my life... Stratusburg's governing headquarters... it was there one minute, and gone the next... just consumed by the inferno, and-... Oh goddesses... I could hardly believe my eyes as I watched the entire structure collapse, right through the torn open cloud layer. The blast was so large, it even took down the vertibuck sent to try and contain the fire. A whole squad of pegasi... gone!

I sniffled, wiping my nose with a hoof as tears began to sting my eyes behind my visor. I couldn't move. I couldn't even breath, as the glow from the plummeting building slowly faded below the new crater in the cloudcover. So many ponies... my friends, my neighbors, my parents... Oh Celestia, mom and dad! They're all gone... 

The mare... she seemed innocent enough. It'd only been a week since I stepped off my family's skywagon for my first ever assignment. I was at my post, with orders to check everypony's ID as they entered the HQ. That's when I saw her.

Oh, how am I going to explain this to everypony!? I couldn't help it, I had such a hard week! One embarrassing face plant in front of all the other recruits... and another in front of my superiors... within the first week, I had already earned the nickname 'Private Klutz!' I was just so tired and upset and... humiliated! I probably looked like a pitiful mess, because when she saw me standing guard, she asked if I was okay... 

It... it meant a lot after the last few days. 

I tried to say it wasn't a bother, but... I guess it was too obvious. I'll never forget what she said to me with that caring smile and silky voice as she tilted her head to let her pretty mane hang adorably over one side, "Well, that's just terrible! I don't think you're a klutz. Those ponies should be ashamed of themselves." And if that wasn't enough to warm my heart, she asked if we could talk more after my shift, maybe share a meal together in the mess hall! I felt like I made my first actual friend in the Enclave. She was so sweet and kind, and I was so excited that I-... I-I... I didn't think I'd need to ask for her identification... I managed to catch a glimpse at her flanks when she trotted by, elegantly swaying back and forth without a care in the world. She must not have realized her uniform had sagged a bit on one side... 

Even then, I don't think I realized I'd just made the gravest mistake of my life, but my heart still sank to depths I didn't know possible, when I saw the brownish charred scars of a cloud and lightening bolt where her cutiemark should have been. I may have been fresh out of flight school, but I knew what that mark meant. I was about to chase after her, but... I second guessed myself. She didn't seem suspicious at all! She was sweet and conversational. And I... I didn't want to scare off the only friend I could possibly make here. Besides, it couldn't have been what I thought it was, right? Maybe... the light just made it look that way...

It only took a few minutes for it to happen. The shock wave actually blew me a good ten feet from the building. Celestia, if it wasn't for my power armor, she would have killed me too... She must have set it off in the boiler room, as one explosion set off another in a devastating chain reaction that sounded like a continuous clash of bone rattling thunder. I heard stories about Dashites, but...  but THIS!? How could somepony have done that to so many innocent ponies!? Half the city worked in that building, and now... it's just gone!!! It was so loud... the screaming was so loud! And my parents... Oh goddesses, I was just talking to dad before my shift! Mom had told him to fix my armor. They had a meeting with our councilbuck, and before he left, dad... he hugged me and told me how proud he was. It was so embarrassing in front of all the other recruits, but now... I'd give anything to wrap my hooves around him right now... but, I... I'm never going to see him or mom again, am I? And it's all my fault... Celestia, what have I done?

"Sweep the area!"

I gasped sharply out of my daze as I heard the officer's stern voice shout through the thick fog of glowing ash, still floating above the clouds around us.

"I want all survivors brought to me for questioning!" He snarled.  

Oh, I am SO dead... What the hay am I going to tell them!? I could just barely make out his handsome looking uniform and cap through the ash, occasionally covering his mouth with a wing as he coughed. He looked distraught, and lost in the smoke and ash, yet the intimidating pitch black fabric and silver trim of his uniform told me he was hellbent on holding whoever let this happen responsible.

"Report!" He coughed again, before scolding a group of power armored pegasi behind him. "I want a goddessdamned report! There was a mare on duty! I want her here like YESTERDAY!!!" 

I winced, spreading my wings on sheer pegasus instinct as fright drenched my whole body. With a single flap, I was off my hooves, before several more zipped me behind a cloud big enough to hide behind. My ears perked as I heard their voices close in. 

"Sir!" One of the soldier mares yelled. I peeked behind the cloud to see her just a few yards away, staring down the giant hole in the cloud cover. "What if she was killed in the blast!?"

The officer flew above with a look so fiery, he could have turned her to ash. "I said bring her to the barracks! I didn't say whether I want her alive or not! Somepony is going to pay for this!!!"

I watched them continue their search for me, until I swore one of their bug-like visors swiveled toward my hiding spot and looked right at me. I quickly ducked down, slapping a hoof over my mouth to quiet my breathing. But even that couldn't silence a petrified whimper from escaping my throat. I clenched my eyes and bit down on my hoof, praying that they didn't see me. Oh please, PLEASE tell me they didn't see me!

"Private Kluuuutz~" The soldiers began to tease as I heard their voices spread across the cloud layer. My heart beat like an off-tempo drum as I tucked my legs, wings and tail against my body and curled up in a pathetic ball. Okay, think Sky! Once they're spread out enough, I can escape!

Escape? Escape to where!? It's not like they'll just give up searching for me here. They'll start showing my face on the news from here to Thunderhead! I'll be a fugitive. A Dashite! Oh crap! I don't wanna be a Dashite! But what am I going to do!? The only other place to go, is-...


THUD!


The sound made me squeak in undiluted horror. Something just hit my cloud... My eyes snapped open to see two pairs of red hooves standing in front of me. Oh goddesses, this is it! They found me and their gonna brand me! Every fiber from the tips of my hooves to my wing feathers anxiously trembled as my gaze traveled up the pony's dapperly dressed body. He was definitely a stallion... but he didn't seem to be military. He didn't wear any type of armor or uniform, but rather a black suit and tie which sported the silver E and wings of the Enclave government on his lapel. His yellow eyes nearly glowed in the night, while his short and styled dark blue mane flapped against the smoky wind current. And his smirk... He was SMIRKING!!! Time felt as if it had disappeared as he stared down at me, remaining silent and almost... charming... It made me feel sick.

His smirk suddenly turned into a sneer. I was so paralyzed with panic that I hardly acknowledged that he'd actually spoken to me as he grabbed my hoof with his own and pulled me up with an aggressive yank. My lips finally quivered in response. "W-what?"

He rolled his eyes with a demeaning laugh. "You got feathers in your ears, darlin'? I said you better start flyin' or I reckon you'll make this too easy..." He gave my chest a hard push before pressing his forehoof to his ear. "Target spotted in sector 17..." My nerves were so shocked, it took me a moment to realize he was talking into an earpiece, and another to realize that this... was sector 17. I must have still looked like a frozen stuffed pigeon, because he looked back at me with his face nearly aghast. "You still here, feather brain? FLY!!!" 

I took a step back, spreading my wings as if to follow his baffling order, but hesitated to commit. Tears began to fill my eyes again. I had so many questions, but my voice felt as if it were stuck in my chest. "W-where?" Was all my flat lungs were able to squeak.

The mysterious pegasus scoffed as he grabbed the back of my mane through my helmet, making me wince, as he pulled me in his suggested direction. "Where do you think?!" 

My eyes widened to horrified saucers as I followed his forehoof to the giant crater. "Down... there!?" I was in disbelief. "N-no... I can't just-..." 

I was suddenly cut off by the stallion throwing me further towards the daunting exit. A one way ticket to the surface. I tripped over my hooves and face planted, as several more thuds landed on the cloud behind us. I nervously raised my head to see the officer and soldiers from before, galloping passed him to aim their magical energy battlesaddles at me. "Just who do you think you are, recruit?!" The officer jeered. "You're in a whole heap uh'trouble!"

The red pegasus suddenly laughed. "Well what are you waiting for, Captain?" His wing put a cigarette between his smug lips. "Brand that traitor already."

...t-t-traitor?!

My heart stopped as every fiber of my being seemed to snap into place. The turmoil of emotions were suddenly replaced by one focus. One choice... Fly... or die. I twisted back to my hooves and leapt into the air.

"OPEN FIRE!!!" Was the last thing I heard through the vortex of adrenaline pulsing through my head. The wind beat unforgivingly against my visor, my mane and tail flapping in my wake, as I dove through the crater. I thrashed my wings relentlessly as they pushed me at a speed I didn't know possible until now. I couldn't even see where I was going. I had no direction or strategy but to just fly down. I didn't care if I slammed into the ground and broke my neck... I just had to keep flying down! I felt cold and empty... believing I wouldn't even notice if I were hit. That naïve belief shattered around me with the rest of reality as I felt the electric burn of crystalized energy strike the back of my head. And just like that, the whole world turned black as I fell into its dark abyss...






"Kiss me goodbye and write me while I'm gooooone..."
 

"Ow! Owowowowow!!!" I stirred awake to the base of my left wing twitching from a painful crunch. Agh! I hate wing cramps! Must have tweaked it in my sleep during my... My nightmare... I tried to stretch my wing, but all that did was elicit an agonizing holler as its joint was struck with more pain. "M-mom? Ow! My wing is cramping up again!" I cried out, while making an excruciating effort to fold the appendage back to my side. Yeah... I'm NOT flying anywhere anytime soon. I better take today off. Hope Captain Short Fuse doesn't mind too badly... 

I gave a defeated groan at that thought. Who am I kidding? With a name like Short Fuse... 

I waited for Mom to coming rushing in with her tender voice to ask if I was okay... or Dad to make some embarrassing comment about preening to make me feel awkward... but, when nopony answered my cry, I opened my eyes to see...

"Gyaaaah! AAHH!" I was greeted by a uniform... a captain by the look of the two silver bars on her handsome looking black uniform with its silver trim and matching cap. I instantly tried jumping out of bed, but... wait... Why am I on the floor? I shook that thought away as soon as it came, instead focusing on snapping to attention. But... for some reason, my armor was harder to move... Oh Celestia, did I fall asleep in my armor? Ugh! Doesn't matter Sky Bliss! Just salute the Captain before you get punished even worse! Probably fell asleep on duty again, you klutz! "Private Klu-... Grrr! Sky Bliss reporting... ma-am?" I gave a confused blink when I realized... she wasn't standing. 

She... Oh Celestia, she's dead! My heart sank with grief as I stared wide eyed at her cold and lifeless body. O-oh crap! W-what's going on? This... this is morbid! She was laying down against a bunch of rocks with her neck... It... it looked like it had snapped at a rather excruciating angle. 

It was so terrible, it-...wait... ROCKS?!

I looked around, only to realize that I was no longer on the fluffy cloud layer of Stratusburg... Just rocks, dirt, and... Oh goddesses... OH GODESSES!!! Everything from the HQ's destruction to me falling from the clouds, came rushing back to my memory. I shuddered as more glowing embers and toxic smoke clouded my senses. I coughed into my forehoof and fanned the smoke away with my right wing, while my left remained useless and crippled against my side. 

Where the hay am I?

I decided to trot forward to get my bearings... or at least I tried to. It became harder and harder to move with every step. I chalked it up to my own exhaustion at first, but when a red warning flashed in front of my HUD, I knew it was something... bad.

POWER LEVEL CRITICAL!

That... can't be good. My power core must have taken damage when they shot me. And my wing... I must have landed on it pretty bad when I fell. Oh, why do rocks have to be so... hard?! It doesn't only hurt when you crash into them, but... jeez, the ground feels so uncomfortable under my hooves. Nothing compared to the soft clean cloudcover. And who would have thought that dirt would be so... dirty! I groaned in both disgust and pain as I trotted further through the smoke. I had no idea where I'd landed, but I got a pretty good hint when my forehoof suddenly reached out to a terrifying emptiness. 

"W-woah!" I wobbled forward, nearly losing my balance before backtrotting away from the edge of... whatever part of Equestria I apparently landed in. Because that's exactly what it looked like as the smoke cleared enough for me to peer out at the horizon. The sun was completely covered by our cloudcover, so I couldn't tell whether it was dusk or dawn. I last remembered it being night, but... who knows how long I've been out. I was undoubtedly on the surface, but... everything was still up high as I looked down on Equestria below me, complete with charred fields, dead grass and ruined buildings that poked above the horizon like jagged teeth.

Was I... on a mountain?

I looked up to see the hole in the cloudcover still there. I must have drifted for miles before I finally hit the ground. Directly below it was what looked like some kind of run down shack village, set ablaze by... Oh goddesses, that's the Stratusburg HQ! It looks like it's still partly intact! Maybe my parents are still alive! I spread my wings, ecstatic to fly down there and search for them, when...

"Ow! Damnit!" Right... broken wing... really hurts... NOT flying...  I'm gonna have to get to that village another way. They could be hurt, or... worse! But, there's no way I'll be able to make it down this... mountain with my power armor locking up. And with no way to repair it, I'm gonna have to leave it behind sooner or later.

I coughed again as I turned towards the source of the smoke, prompting me to gasp as shock hit me like an angry storm cloud. "Angel one seven..." I said with a gloomy whisper as I came across the burning vertibuck wreckage. Several bodies of armored pegasi laid around the debris, and... just like the officer, they were all dead. These pegasi, however, appeared to have met a much more gruesome end then their captain. By the look of how their power armor had all been fried to a crisp, if the impact didn't kill them, then I had no doubt that the fires did. I despairingly slapped a hoof to my mouth as I saw that one of the soldier's helmets had been knocked from her head, allowing her hallow eye-sockets to forever stare at the pony who helped cause her death. Me...

I... I think I'm gonna be sick...

I tried to backtrot away, but my armor had nearly locked from the lack of power, and I ended up falling on my haunches. I wanted to curl up in a ball and cry, but my armor wouldn't even allow me that. "I'm... I'm sorry." I whimpered, "I didn't mean to! I-I was just-... I'm so... so sorry..."

I'm not sure how long I sat there... but, in all the time I was there, I found it impossible to tear my eyes away from the carnage, or stop apologizing to ponies who had long since lost the ability to hear me do so. The thought of even being partly responsible for this... it made my stomach twist and my chest ache. I could have sat there until I starved, but something inside me, a familiar voice, demanded that I suck up my blubbering. I found the little pony inspiring, as she always had been when I was a foal, and with another shuddering sigh, I slowly began taking off my armor before it locked me in completely. I peeled the leg plating away first. After that, I was able to move much easier, moving to my flanks and chest plate. I had to be careful with my back so to not injure my wing anymore that it already was. But, when my hooves began lifting my helmet off...

"OW! What the..? Why did that hurt?" The back of my neck felt as if something molten had welded my hide to my helmet. I quickly trotted over to the front of the vertibuck, seeing that the right windshield was still intact. Thank Celestia for small favors, I guess... After getting as close as I could to the glass... Well... the reflection it showed me was NOT what I was expecting.

I gave a mournful gasp as I saw the awful result of getting shot by a beam rifle. My once longer and styled mane would usually stick out the top of my helmet and droop over the side of my face. Now... the lavender and magenta hairs were singed beyond repair. The blast was direct to the back of my head, and nearly butchered everything exposed from it. I sniffled, tears once again welling in my eyes. The once pretty and cute and... rather unsoldierly style, was a bit embarrassing compared to the cooler and butch manes of the more hardened troopers... but mom had worked so hard on getting it nice... and now it's completely destroyed! With a painful scream, I pulled my helmet off, taking a patch of my neck with it as I cringed from both pain and the natural light stinging my pink irises. I tried to ignore the blood dripping down my ghostly purple coat, no doubt leaving a permanent scar behind, as I got a better look at the damage.

My once long sweeping forelock that hung down passed my shoulders was gone, replaced by short and uneven spikey bangs that couldn't even hang passed my eyes. The back of my mane was even worse, singed and messy. I used my hooves to try and style it as best I could, but the only form I could get it in was a somewhat organized chaos, with... More spikes?! At least I had a little bit of mane left to hang off my neck, but... Celestia, I look like-...

I paused, blinking at my reflection in disbelief.

I look like my sister... I sniffled, trying to ignore the tight feeling of grief in my chest. Sky Vapor... well... Let's just say I felt I had big horseshoes to fill after we got her devastating telegram. She was one of the most talented fliers in all of Stratusburg. Probably could have became a Wonderbolt if she wanted to. Meanwhile, I barely passed the flight exam. I was an... amateur flier at best. Which was a huge disappointment to my drill sergeant. Apparently, Sky Vapor's portrait is hanging up in the hall of fame somewhere with one of Stratusburg's fastest flight course records. Yet, when I finished the course, I was rewarded with, 'You're a fucking embarrassment to the Enclave, cadet!' Even her cutiemark set the bar pretty high after shooting through all the clouds around us so fast, she turned them to vapor! It was awesome! I, meanwhile, got mine after hugging a cloud. One cloud. Nothing special or magic about it. Just a big, soft, fluffy and -in my defense- incredibly-comfy-to-hug cloud.

I instinctively looked back at the heart and cloud on my flanks, conflicted in both embarrassment for it being so girly and relief that it hadn't been branded off... yet. Unsoldierly was one thing, but now that I'm down here... in the wasteland... I'm probably about the weakest looking thing out here... And without my armor, I'd get torn apart by... who knows whatever is watching me.

I was ready to start another round of mournful sobs, when a strange sound suddenly caught my ears. I knitted my brow as I tried to make out what it was. It took my senses to recover a bit before I recognized the tinny ambiance of pianos, guitars, and drums echoing around the mountainside. It was... music. Not the usual patriotic orchestra music of Enclave radio, but... actual songs.

I wasn't exactly in the mood for music, but my ears betrayed me anyway and unconsciously perked, forcing me to listen to the final beats of the song. The melancholy tune just made me want to cry some more... but the little Sky Vapor pony in my head told me to cheer up. It was hard, but... I managed to hold back anymore tears for the remainder of the song. I looked to where it was coming from, but the source only drew my gaze back to the dead captain. Even in death, the officer was still intimidating. She was the only pony spared from the fire...

I guess she'd flown through the left windshield on impact and broken her neck. I solemnly trotted back over to her, only to follow her eternal empty stare, still longing for a radio just feet from her outstretched forehoof. The same radio she was screaming into when the vertibuck went down. The song finally began to fade behind the radio's speakers, only to be replaced by...

"Good morning, wastelanders! This is DJ Pon3! With today's musical wake-up call. Now, if you're a consistent listener, you might be expecting the news BEFORE I move onto the weather. Well, get ready for a slight change of pace my little ponies, because if you live South of the Smoky Mountains, you might have noticed some pretty strange rain drops falling from the sky recently. And when I say 'strange' and 'rain drops' I really mean one entire building just dropped out of the clouds! And that's not all. I've been gettin' reports that the structure not only fell, but was consumed in flames all the way till it landed on the village below. What the HAY are our 'friends' up above doin' up there?! Your guess is as good as mine. Keep it tuned here for updates."

My jaw hit the dirt as I stood there, so staggered by his words that my knees felt weak. A radio station. In the wasteland. Not only exists, but just broadcasted to all of Equestria about our HQ! That... that's gotta be a security breach! There could be all sorts of classified information in that building! I listened, waiting to hear anything else, but apparently it was all the news of the hour, as another song started back up. I was so frustrated that the last remaining strands of my former mane style sprung out to join the rest. "That's it?!" I scoffed, "It wasn't us! It was a Dashite! From the surface! And he didn't even mention the attack! And this is definitely NOT Enclave permitted music. I couldn't even count how many regulations this broadcast broke! We can't let him-..!"

I looked about, only to remind myself that I was the only pony listening... and, all but a Dashite myself. 

"I... can't let him..?" I rolled my eyes with a defeated laugh. Yeah right... This 'DJ Pon3' wouldn't be threatened by somepony like me... Even if I did have my armor. There's nothing intimidating about a mare nearly fresh out of flight school. He'd be crazy to think I have any kind of authority to-... 

All other thoughts suddenly stopped in their tracks as an innocent -yet uncontrollable- idea formed in my head. Before I knew it, my gaze had pivoted to look at the officer. Or, more specifically, her uniform. I admit... I was curious. But... Oh, come on, Sky! You can't be seriously thinking it can..! I-I mean, it's not like it would actually... make me look...

Hmmm...





I gave my reflection a skeptical look as I fit my ears through the slits in officer's cap, giving the silver E and wings in its center a quick polish, before looking over the rest of the uniform in the windshield. I saw myself give an anxious sigh as I did so.

I don't know about this... I look so... 

I pivoted in place to get a side view of the sleek black uniform, all buttoned up to hug my chest. Even though the sleeves sagged down to my hooves due to the mare being just a bit taller than me, it still looked... impressive.

I blinked a bit in surprise. It seemed every second I stared at the mare in the reflection... she looked less and less like... me. Sure, my colors were the same, not to mention my cutiemark. But, the way my mane now stuck out behind the cap, and my bangs just barely covered my eyes, it was hard to even recognize myself. I gave a curious tilt of my head as I kicked the dirt in thought. I wonder just how different I can make myself look... 

I trotted back over to the now bare-coated officer, and looked through her saddlebags. After rummaging through them, I found some dangerous encouragement for my curiosity. After all was said and done, I'd found a plasma pistol, a tobacco pipe, and a makeup bag, which I proceeded to apply to my face, giving myself a darker eyeshadow and thicker lashes to match how the officer wore it. The mare in the reflection looked even more different. So much so, that... I could hardly believe she was actually me. 

Even with my new chaotic mane, the cap actually made it look natural, and -with the help of the makeup- kinda pretty. While the pistol and dashing uniform gave me an impressive shade of seriousness. And the Pipe... well, I put that back where I found it. I looked a bit silly with it, and even my curiosity knew its own limits. But, something was still missing... I still looked... nervous. I needed to look confident and serious. After a few failed attempts, I finally saw the same stern glare of Captain Short Fuse, except now, on my-own reflection. For the first time in my life, I looked... intimidating. "W-wow..."

My ears suddenly perked as I heard DJ Pon3's voice return to the radio. "Ah. That was Sweetie Belle with another one of her timeless classics. And here's me; DJ Pon3, with the news."

"W-who do you think you are?" I winced at my own voice. I still sounded... timid. Okay, c'mon Sky Bliss! Time to show this pony that you're NOT just some air-headed filly! All those years of trying to act tomboyish aren't gonna go to waste now! No more screw-ups! Think tough! This time, my voice came out raspier than ever before as I grated it against the back of my throat. "Just who do you think you are, jackass!?" I couldn't help but giggle after I said it like that, though I had to catch myself and try to regain composure. Captains do NOT giggle! I gave a quick sigh of preparation as I tried to remember all the times my superiors had scolded me, and with a tilt of my head and a crack of my neck, I let all my pent up frustration, from 'Private Klutz' to 'DJ Pon3', connect with vocabulary I would otherwise never dare to use as a recruit. "You treacherous, scum! You're in a whole heap uh'trouble!"

DJ Pon3, however, was unphased, still continuing his broadcast through the radio. No new updates on my HQ, I noted. Just something about bigotry against... ghouls? 

"What the hay is a ghoul?" I was genuinely curious as I found myself listening the rest of his PSA, only to shake my head with a scoff. "Focus, damnit!" This time, I approached the radio with an angry glower. "DJ Pon3... You've committed crimes against the Grand Pegasus Enclave." I paused to give him a chance to respond. At this point, I had completely tuned out what he was actually saying, although... I could have sworn I heard him talk back to me. 

"What was that?!" I snarled. DJ Pon3 stayed silent. "What did you say to me, huh?! How DARE you deny it?! I should kick your freakin' ass!" DJ Pon3 snickered before satirically claiming he had no idea what I was talking about. I gave him a look. "Oh? A wise guy, huh? We'll see how smart you feel with my hoof up your ass. Dickhead!" He seemed stunned by my response and began to apologize. His sudden change of attitude made me laugh. "You know, what? I want you to run..." He gave me a confused look and asked me to repeat. "You've got feathers in your ears, buck-o?! I said run!" He took a step back as my right wingtip curled down and pulled the plasma pistol from my holster with threatening intent. "I'll give you a chance to run for your life, little pony. Get going, run!" He struggled to comprehend what was happening. He tried begging for mercy, but knew I wouldn't give it. He finally took the opportunity as he spun on his hooves and galloped away as fast he could. I closed one eye as I looked down the sights.

Well DJ Pon3... or whoever you are... The only thing ponies will remember you by is the after-action report we show the recruits...

I pulled my wingtip against the trigger, and... PEW!

I clenched my eyes and winced as I felt the recoil throw my whole body off balance. My lungs betrayed me after years of teaching myself to act tomboyish and hardened... only for an all too sissy squeak to escape my throat. Whatever audience of spectators I imagined suddenly came to life around me, the charred ponies from the crash waking up, only to gasp in shock as the plasma bolt missed its target... 

"Nice shot, CAPTAIN Klutz!" A stallion behind me teased... igniting the powder keg of loud crushing laughter that erupted from all the other pegasi. I insecurely tucked my tail between my legs, completely humiliated. I suddenly felt like I was back in flight school. I wanted to burry my head in the clouds and cry... but I had no clouds...

I bit down on my lip to keep it from quivering, and with a determined curse of my breath, I tried again. Another miss, and another, and another, until... "Son of a mule... Hold still you little-..!"

Finally, I hit my target... if just barely. The crystalized acidic plasma tunneled through the corner of the radio, and began to melt the brown metal frame into the tubes and wiring beneath, making whatever news DJ Pon3 was reporting to the wasteland die into utter nonsense, only for another song to sputter and gurgle its way through the mesh speakers... almost as if the stallion were still mocking me with his stupid music. 


"R-R-R-R-R-R-R-RRRRRock and roll is-...*static*...-ere to stay. It will never d-d-die-...
*static*was meant to be that way. Though I don't know why. 
I don't care what ponies s-s-s-aaaay-..."


PEW!

I shot it again, this time straight through the center. The radio finally peeled apart into molten metal and goo, at last silencing it forever. DJ Pon3 was gone. Worse still, he had never been here to begin with. Nor the other pegasi, save for the same dead ones from the crash. Their laughter had died quicker than a stir in the wind...





I cautiously searched for anything else of use... specifically food. I was so hungry, I could eat a-...

I hesitantly glanced at one of the 'well-done' ponies beside me.

Okay, I'm not that hungry. I hardly believed I'd find anything here that wasn't ruined to ashes, but a box of MREs survived the flames... even though their packaging didn't necessarily survive the crash. But, after concluding that squashed MREs are unequivocally better than starving to death -or resorting to cannibalism-, I tore open the package with my teeth, and chowed down on the dehydrated cloud-grown produce. Hopefully it wouldn't wreak too much havoc on my intestines until I find something more suitable. I adorned the captain's saddlebags and pocketed the rest of the MREs inside. I was in the process of keeping the contents from coming back up my throat, when I spotted something unique sticking out of a pile of embers in the dirt. It looked like some kind of metal stick... or maybe a pole, it's colors contrasting with that of the vertibuck. The end looked scorched by the glowing coals, while the handle looked safe enough to touch, so -failing to check my impulse- I reached out and wrapped my forehoof around it. I was about to pull, when something suddenly stirred in the dirt behind me... followed by a soft feminine gasp.

My first thought was that it was a survivor from the crash who must have gone out to scout ahead, before returning to find me wearing their dead officer's uniform. 

Damnit, Sky! Why didn't you think this through?!

I was so startled, I could have jumped out of the captain's uniform... I almost wish that's what I had done, as my legs bounced my rump so high that I lost my balance and fell on my face, thankfully finding a nice patch of hard gravel instead of scolding hot embers. That's it, Sky! Keep looking on the bright side... I recovered as quick as it happened, grabbing back hold of the strange pole and yanking it free of its burning pit. I went so far as to take a defensive stance with it in my forehooves, which in retrospect, probably wouldn't have done horseapples to stop whatever projectile weapons she likely had. However, it frightened the mare all the same... in fact, maybe even more so than what any gun could have, as she stared at me, frozen and terrified beyond belief. It took me a moment to realize what I'd done to spook her, as my gaze lowered to the sizzling orange glow of the infamous cloud and lightening bolt that made up the other end of the pole. 

She eyed the brand for a while longer, obviously uncertain about my next move as she gave a nervous gulp. However, with a puff of her chest and a salute of her forehoof, she showed a valiant effort to suck in her fear... valiant, but not quite successful. "Misty Breeze, reporting for duty, ma'am!" She announced clear as day, as she strained her otherwise soft-spoken voice to sound more determined.

My eyes blinked in confusion as I watched her salute... me?! I looked around, half expecting another officer to be standing behind me, before finally realizing the only pony here who even looked remotely like an officer was... me. I hesitantly let one hoof go of the Dashite brand before saluting her back. 

She returned her hoof to the ground, and everything became quiet. We stared at each other for the longest time... well, at least she was looking straight at attention, while I just stared at her in awkward silence. To be honest, I wasn't sure whether to be scared to death of her reporting me to the Enclave or relieved to see another living pegasus. I was just about to accept the possibility that I might never see one ever again. Though, maybe I should have been so lucky... Yet, she didn't seem to look or even act very... Enclave-y. 

She was Enclave, I could at least tell that by her black coveralls and beam pistol strapped to her leg. But, no armor, barely any weapons... no aggressive nature to her rather delicate looking frame. Her coat was a soft pale creamy-grey, while her emerald swirled white mane was left long and rolled over her shoulders in waves. She had to have been no older than a recruit herself, and looked... rather cute for a mare. Déjà vu suddenly struck me like a clash of thunder. I was so caught in my daze, that I hadn't noticed her lips moving.

I flushed before clearing my throat. I tried to speak, but... I was too stunned to form a coherent response.

Her timid look suddenly tilted in concern as she pointed at my side. "Y-your wing, ma'am. It... doesn't look good. Is it broken?" 

I didn't need to look down at it to know how 'good' it looked. I'd long since given up on testing my tolerance for my injured wing. As it turns out, tolerance for pain, I severely lacked. I continued to stare awkwardly at the mare in silence. I was honestly at a loss for words. She had no idea who I really was or what I did. And there's no way in Tartarus that I can tell her... I don't care how timid she looks. She's Enclave and I'm... I-I'm a Dashite... Even if she didn't pull her beam pistol on me, it'd be unlikely a single pegasus mare would be down here all alone. There could be a whole platoon waiting for her. Besides, I'm already in enough trouble as it is, I don't need impersonating an officer as a topping on treason. 

I gave a hesitant nod, trying my best to appear determined, while my heart frantically thumped in my chest. She gave a soft smile in return and began to trot toward me. However, I’m guessing my nod was either too hesitant or the Dashite brand in my hooves held too much of a paranoid kind of sway to it, as she gave a cautious backtrot. "I uh... I can take a look at it. Your wing, I mean. I-I'm a field medic..." She reassured me with hopeful smile. It would soon evaporate after seeing my doubtful glare.

"Field medic?"

She nervously licked dried lips before nodding. "MmHmm..."

I looked her uniform up and down with a raised eyebrow. "What's your tag?"

She bit her lip as if to think about it for a moment. “Misty L. Breeze, serial number 192-01-2125...” I had to say, I was impressed... I at least stutter once or twice when reciting my serial number, but she got through it without a hitch... of course, the timid pinch in her throat almost made her sound unsure of herself. She must have noticed my skeptical look, as she looked down at her hooves to avoid it. "...We were enroute from Neighvarro, when our wagon-..."

"We?" I asked. 

She nodded. "My platoon... we were supposed to make contact with a detachment from Stratusburg. But our skywagons came under heavy fire. We don't know what hit us, but we had to make an emergency landing on the mountainside... the other wagon... they weren't so lucky..." She said in a shaky voice. "We watched them land at the foot of the mountain... They survived the crash, but... there were creatures there. Big creatures! And they-..." She clenched her eyes shut with a shiver. "...there was just ten of us after that..."

By now I had set the Dashite brand down in the dirt as I listened to her story. That had at least helped put her at ease. "Did you... have any friends in the..?" 

She gave a solemn nod.

"Sorry..." I replied.

She wiped her nose with a hoof and sniffled. "Thanks..." She looked at the vertibuck crash behind me, giving a quiet gasp as she saw the bodies around it. "O-oh... Oh gosh! I... I didn't know that you-... I didn't mean to be insensitive to your squad, ma'am!"

Huh? What is she-... OH! Right...

"Ahem... It's... It's okay, Misty... It sounds like you've been through a lot... and I appreciate your concern." She gave me back a small smile, but still seemed a bit guilty for unloading her baggage onto me. I didn't mind... to be honest, my heart kind of ached for the poor mare. I gave her my best comforting smile as I draped my one good wing over her shoulder. "I'm Captain Sky Bliss."





"Aaaand... there." Misty said, as she finished adjusting the sling. "How's it feel?" 

I grimaced, giving it a little test as I tried to move the stem of my wing. I guess it shouldn't have been a surprise that I had dislocated it. And after several excruciating minutes of screaming into my hoof while she snapped it back into place, she decided it best to constrict it in a sling to prevent anymore pain... She might as well have been a medical goddess compared to what I know about medicine, but 'prevent' certainly felt like a strong word. Even an hour later, after following her further down the mountainside, I could still feel my wing throb in a painful chorus with my heartbeat. "You uh... wouldn't happen to have any painkillers..?"

I regretted asking that after seeing her hopeful smile ruthlessly crushed under my words. "No good, huh?" She sighed, "Sorry, ma'am. I'm still getting used to the field... To be honest, I've never had to put my training to use before now."

I winced as I felt a little Sky Vapor pony smack me aside the head, insisting that I cheer her up. I was way ahead of that. I was seconds away from wrapping my forelegs around her and pulling her into a tight hug... However, there were a few problems I noted before doing that. First of all, that might have been too sympathetic for a Captain... and second, I was reminded of how embarrassed I felt when Dad hugged me while in uniform. So, out of concern for blowing my cover in hypocritical fashion, I kept my hooves to myself, and instead gave the cute pegasus a soft smile. "Hey, I'm not saying you didn't do a good job. You'll get the hang of it. Besides, once you get back to the clouds, you'll probably be the most experienced field medic in your class."

She blushed... Holy Flash Magnus, I actually made her blush. I've never made another mare blush before! Not like that anyway... She gave a ghost of a smile before looking a bit perplexed as she thought on what I'd said. "You really think you'll be able to get us back to the clouds?" 

I paused. Did I say I could do that? I replayed the words of encouragement I put together in my head. Okay, so I didn't explicitly say that, but I certainly suggested it, didn't I? Damnit, Sky, you featherhead! Even if I could somehow contact Neighvarro, they'd need a video feed to confirm my identity... and the identity that'd pop up would probably doom me, Misty, and the rest of her platoon for associating with a de-facto Dashite. Maybe if I could convince them to fly home... 

I glanced to the sky, trying to find the hole that I fell through in the cloudcover, but when I looked to where I swore I'd seen it last, nothing was there... or more like, something was there to plug it up. I may have dismissed it as the mountain fog just being too thick to see the sky through, but the fresh batch of greyish-orange clouds were clear as the blue sky above them... Stratusburg must be working overtime to have filled that so fast. Aaaand... trip. Goddessdamn you, stupid rocks! I stumbled so hard I fell on top of Misty Breeze, nearly knocking both of us over.

Way to go, klutz... The little Sky Vapor quickly corrected me with, 'Captain Klutz'.

"Sorry!" We both stammered in chorus, before awkwardly turning away to hide each other's embarrassment. Luckily nopony else was around to see that. We quickly recovered with a mutual silence and understanding that... we probably should forget that ever happened. I grumbled under my breath as I heard the voice of my older sister again, this time teasing me with, 'Sky Bliss and Misty Breeze, sittin' in a tree...'. 

NOT FUNNY, Vape...

Well, the awkward moment helped change the subject of me helping her... for the time being, at least. If she's taking me to meet her platoon, they're going to be expecting at least something from me. It was time to put my brain in overtime as the silhouette of a crashed skywagon transport came into view through a thick fog along the path.

My ears perked as I caught the sound of music in the wind again... this time, however, it was the familiar parade music permitted by all Enclave stations. Well, it's good to know we could still catch the frequency all the way down here. They must not have the right receiver though, or else they would have been able to radio for help.

Before I could bask in the sound of pegasus patriotism, a mare suddenly cried out from the distance. "You see anything out there, Thunder?" Even muffled from under the skywagon, I could still hear her smooth voice practically drip of rural Neighvarro. 

I heard a stallion sigh a few paces to her right. "I'm gettin' sick of answering that question, Bell..." He warned, tiredly. I couldn't quite see them through the fog, but the mare sounded as if she were tinkering with something, due to the occasional sparks lighting up her silhouette, while the stallion sounded like he was on the edge of the mountain. "Damnit, Corsair!" He suddenly scolded, "Give the poor buck some space..." 

A sniffle came to my ears as another mare quietly sobbed under the tinny assortment of drums and horns from the radio. "I... I ain't leavin' him, Thunder!" She said with a shaky voice. "H-he wouldn't leave, me!"

"C'mon 'Sair, he's dead." Thunder paused, only for her heartbreaking sobs to continue. "HE'S DEAD!" His roar was enough to  make Misty and I stiffen in our tracks, abruptly silencing both the crying and the tinkering from the other two mares. "Just... just leave him alone." He finally said, giving a mournful sigh himself as he returned to his former task.

"O-oh no..." Misty's heart sounded as if it had sunk as she quickened her trot towards the three ponies.

"IT'S YOUR FAULT, THUNDER!" Bell raged from under the skywagon, her once smooth voice now loud and direct.

I was finally able to match the voices to the ponies, as the fog grew thinner between us. I presumed the chestnut stallion near the edge of the mountain was Thunder. He laid on his belly as he peered out into the mist of the wasteland through the scope of a long beam rifle, his ashy white and golden streaked mane cut short into a mohawk. The usual shine that I would expect from the sleek black power armor he wore was replaced by scratches, dents and dried-up mud... not all of it, I assume, from the crash. I could picture him roll his eyes behind his bug-like visor at the mare's outburst. "Ain't you fixed it yet?"

Bell scoffed, "Ah'm gettin' sick of answerin' that questio-... Oh, goddessdamn you!" Her silky blonde and pink tail angrily swished between her orange legs. It, as well as her wing feathers, suddenly jolted outwards, as the skywagon gave her an electrical shock, eliciting a feminine squeak to echo around the mountainside, only to be followed by a blitzkrieg of angry sailor phrases. She punched the underside of the wagon with her hoof, before muttering 'it's your fault we're here', over and over again, each time in a different colorful way.

"There's more where he came from..." Thunder replied, making a navy-blue mare with a blasted-back arctic mane to stand up in outrage. 

"What did you just say, sergeant?" Corsair hissed, rubbing her teary eyes with her wings before pinning the stallion with a fiery glare. If the two were to fight, they just might have been an even match for each other, as the mare wore the same sleek black and scorpion-tailed power armor as Thunder, only she sported a battlesaddle of mid-ranged beam rifles, while the ladder appeared to be a sniper. She wore her visor up, allowing her lovely face and beautiful deep blue eyes to burn holes of purebred rage through the stallion's head. "He was our FRIEND, Thunder! You take it back!" 

"If you would have flown us away from the fire, we wouldn't be in this mess..." Bell continued her begrudged mumblings, prompting Thunder to kick her legs in retaliation. "OW! Goddessdamnit! What you do that for?! I'm tryin' to fix this!!!" She crawled out from under the wagon to stand in front of him, her long blonde and pink mane drooping over a pair of goggles she wore over her eyes. She was smaller than the others, so she had to look up to meet Thunder's gaze. If it wasn't for the grease stains covering her orange coat and ragged coveralls, she'd actually be drop-dead gorgeous. They all began arguing, occasionally pushing each other with their hooves, Thunder going back and forth between Bell and Corsair, before they all descended into a chaotic physical struggle of grappling, punches and headlocks. 

"TEN-HUT!!!"

They all froze in mid-fight, locking their tangled limbs in place, as they turned their attention to the young field medic, standing with her chest proudly puffed out. The three seemed to weigh the order a moment, looking from pony to pony in confusion before finally untangling themselves. "Where the hay have you been, Mist?" Bell asked, as she lifted her goggles above her eyes with a wingtip. 

Misty looked a bit crushed by that as she sagged her shoulders. "Wha-..? I said, ten-hut!"

Thunder gave a skeptical glance at his comrades before tilting his head at Misty with a condescending smirk. "Aaaand... what're you sayin' 'ten-hut', fooooooooor-..?" His patronizing question trailed off as he caught my approach behind her. It only took a second for all three of them to finally stiffen at Misty's order, snapping to attention, eyes wide and jaws agape, before saluting in a perfect line of stunned statues. I had to keep myself from looking smug. The irony of three ponies, who otherwise would be patronizing me as a recruit, -not to mention as a Dashite- now saluting me as an officer, was pretty hilarious. Before I could relish in the moment however, there was an abrubt stir within the crashed skywagon.

When the vehicle's door opened, I suddenly felt like a timid filly again, as the black and silver uniform stepped into the murky light. He was a yellow stallion, not as burly as Thunder, but where he lacked in that, he made up for in class and style. His gold mane was combed into a pompadour as he brushed it back with a hoof. He tilted his head down and put his cap on, covering his eyes with the shadow of its bill as he left only his muzzle to express his otherwise cold emotions. I could tell he wasn't just staring at me... he was staring right through my uniform. Through my eyes. Even through my very soul with only an icy sneer to pivot his pencil thin mustache on one side. He seemed amused by my presence as he trotted forward. I just stood there in a cold sweat, hoping nopony could hear my heart beat as loud as I could. 

The other three ponies didn't dare flinch, but the officer's entrance pulled Misty's attention away from me, and towards a bloody mound of blankets between the two, with a grey hoof sticking out from underneath. It was the same spot that Corsair had been crying over not a moment before. "Is... is that..?" Misty's voice whimpered, "Oh goddesses, Comet's hurt guys!" And just like that, she broke her own call for discipline to gallop over to the mutilated stallion.

The officer suddenly spread his wings and galloped between Misty and her comrade, hooking them around the sobbing mare to stop her. "He's dead, Breeze." He said in a quiet classy voice. 

"N-no!" She cried, struggling to get passed him. "I-I can still-..."

"Lock it down!" He growled, pushing her back in front of him before nodding towards me. "It looks like we have an important visitor. You will show restraint." 

She sniffled into her wing, before giving a gloomy nod. "Y-yes, sir..." 

They both trotted back into line in front of me. The officer gave me another skeptical look. I suddenly felt self-conscious about my uniform as he eyed the extra length of my sleeves. My heart stopped. Oh crap! Does he know?! Has the Enclave REALLY never made a measurement error before? Oh, c'mon! It could happen, couldn't it?! Just when I was about to start thinking of the different ways I could plead for mercy, the officer himself finally straightened his smirk and slowly raised his wing to his bill. "Lieutenant Yonder Wild, reporting ma'am." I gave a mental sigh of relief, before saluting him back. Thank Celestia... "I apologize for my platoon's... under-preparedness. Been a rough pack'uh days." He suddenly puffed out his chest and shouted, "Platoon! SOUND OFF!!!"

Starting with Thunder, each pegasus shouted their name one-by-one down the line. "Sgt. Thunder Bolt!", "Sgt. Corair!", "Cpl. Bell Rotor!", "Private Misty Breeze!"

Alright... Equestria calling tougher Sky Bliss! Your time to shine. "At ease." I said with the gruffest voice I could manage. "I'm Captain Sky Bliss..." I paused to think, before adding, "...17th Stratusburg Verti-assault squadron."

"So... that Vertibuck we saw went down wasn't our rescue?" Corsair asked. "Do they even know we're down here?!"

I shook my head with a sorry sigh... and lied my flanks off. "My mission was to extract any survivors from a terror attack at the Stratusburg HQ. The explosion took us down. My crew didn't make it..." I arched my brow as I took in the five ponies in front of me. "I thought there were 10 of you. Where's the rest of your platoon?"

The five looked at each other with a nod, before all agreeing in unison, "Deserted." Yonder gave a nod to the dead stallion behind him and sighed, "Four... after we sent Breeze to investigate your vertibuck... one came back and killed poor Comet Chaser..." They all hung their heads, ranging from sorrow, to regret, to anger.

"How long have you ponies been down here?" I asked.

"About five days ma'am..." Bell said, before drearily adding, "Haven't eaten in three..." 

"We had reports of a town to the south, but we didn't want to move in case a rescue team came to extract us." Yonder explained.

That's when it hit me. That's how I'm gonna get to the HQ! I cleared my throat before I got too giddy and put the mask of authority back on. "My mission is in that town... and seeing as you ponies are also in need of rescue, I'm making you a part of my mission. If I'm right to believe you're radio is broken, then the only way we can get an extraction for all of us, is if we get to that town, deal with the locals and help the survivors." If there's any survivors. I... don't know if I'll be able to go back to Stratusburg, but... it's the best chance I've got if I want to find my parents... or, frankly, survive. I raised my eyebrow as I turned to Bell Rotor. "Can you fix your skywagon?"

"You mean the lost cause I've been workin' on?" She sighed, "Yeah, why not..?"

"Good..." I nodded, before looking back over to Yonder. "Now, about your... deserter problem..." I met his smug gaze, still seeming to drill right through to my soul. I hated looking into his eyes... It was like I could see my own knowing deception reflected right back at me. He doesn't know! He couldn't... just keep on talking, Bliss! My heart settled with relief when he finally took his eyes off of me, and widened in surprise at what I pulled out from under my wing. I swear, I saw every pegasus before me shiver at the sight of it. Them, and every other pegasus, both friends and foes of the Enclave, knew the cloud and lightning bolt brand all too well. An hour or so ago, I would have feared it the most out of all these ponies... so... why did I have the cockiest smirk in the history of pegasi on my face? It was REALLY cocky... it was so cocky, it made Yonder swap expressions with the one I had when he was looking at me... Now it was his, Misty's, and every other Enclave pony's turn to be intimidated my gaze. Even Sky vapor winced...

"It appears... I have the solution to that... right here~" I purred, as I dropped the Dashite brand in front of them. "Welcome to Detachment Bliss... Your new orders are to accompany me to town, and bring every Dashite you see to me... alive. UNDERSTOOD?!" I gave one of my most gravely shouts ever, prompting each and every pony, including a weary looking Yonder and Misty, to snap to attention. 

"YES MA'AM!!!"


To be continued...

> Enclave: Grandpa by SabreTheRedMane
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------


Grandpa


On a small colored photo a mare was smiling. She was standing on a cloud as a photographer took the shot. Her light blue mane and tail caught in the moment of being ravaged by a savage high altitude wind.

Major Galewind held the photo with his wingtip, looking at it with deep longing. He smiled as well, and thought that the frame is an excellent allegory for their passion towards each other. His other wing lifted the glass of orange juice spiked with apple whiskey and the major took a generous sip out of it.

"She's going to the hinterland, MJR?" asked a pegasus mare in front of him, lifting her head up from a plate full of grilled fish.

"Yeah. We decided it's for the better since she is pregnant." Galewind answered to his wingmare, lieutenant Puff Cloud, "She's got a transfer to Quiet Valley. Will go on a MoA sky wagon." He reached with his wing and hid the photo into the pocket. The crude chair creaked under his weight.

They were sitting in the officer's mess hall. Although "hall" was probabl too pretentious of a name for a large battered canvas tent standing  besides the airfield. Here combat flight personnel was meant to relax between the missions and try to forget about the fact that each of them could become their last. Galewind personally would prefer a cloud, but his squadron was a part of a ground support unit. Only the air  superiority wings got deployed above.

"I still can't believe MoM stalled civilian evacuation." Puff Cloud frowned.

"They still allow regular traffic, given that a passengers have a return tickets. They don't want panic." Galewind said with a slight emphasis and shrugged. Puff Cloud got the hint and shut up. The major sighed, thankfully, MoM couldn't record bare thoughts into a memory orb... Yet.

It was bad enough when another one (or several) of pegasi didn't show up at the table after the combat sortie, but he got used to it since his early days in the Royal Air Force. But the need to be wary of his own compatriots and constantly watch what he was saying proved to be  equally as bad. Galewind hated it. He was old enough to remember the  country before the War. The cheerfulness and happiness. Songs and friendships. Kindness and camaraderie. The bright colorful world. 

He had enlisted to protect the colors around him. War has drained most of them, making everything either gray or khaki. But he believed, that as long as there will be ponies, there would be chance for the colors to bloom anew. For that reason he hardly ever went on any rants about POGs. He felt some misplaced irrational joy at a thought that there are still ponies not yet contaminated with the violence and killing.

Galewind lit a cigarette and looked around. Other pegasi were quiet, munching on their high calorie rations or gulped the juice. Spiked drinks helped them to shake off the edge without getting too drowsy. Flight technicians, as per custom, had a large surplus of whiskey and spirit. They traded part of it with eagerness, in exchange for some flight-grade rations. Galewind didn't believe in MoM's recreational drugs in a slightest. Of course he's been obtaining "moral boosters" at the intendant,  with a signed acknowledgement even. But then he just dumped them on squadron medic (completely according to the regulations, by the way).

The medic, his old friend, proceeded to write the whole load off after a determinate period of time. So far RAF managed to oppose most of the MoM effort. Thanks to their patron saint, Rainbow Dash, and the natural stubbornness of pegasi, which could rival that of the earth ponies and donkeys.

Tent flaps flew apart and a young liaison officer barged into the mess hall. "Major, sir! Colonel wants you at the HQ! She said it's urgent!"

Galewind rose from the table, making a gesture with his wing, telling others to sit and continue eating. Himself, he headed to the Ground Control tent to receive what he believed would be a combat task.

Wing commander, colonel Cirrus Mist, returned his salute and gave him a pad that he took from her mouth. "There are reports on suspicious enemy activity in the sector J-20." She said. "Ground command thinks Zebras could attempt a breakthrough."

Galewind looked closer at the pad, examining the markers on the map. "They ask us to determine what exactly is going on." Colonel continued. "I  want your squadron to take this mission. Any questions?"

"If I may, ma'am. Must we fly out immediately? During the day?"

"I'm afraid so. It's urgent. Your squadron is one of the best, I believe you can complete this in a perfect manner."

She didn't say "squadron with the lowest casualty rate", superstitious as  much as everypony who have been on the front line long enough. Galewind gave a sharp salute.
"Roger that, ma'am! Glory to Equestria!"

"Glory to Equestria, major!"



Clad in their black power armor with large scorpion-like stingersthey looked like something straight out of a nightmare. The squadron flew in a wide formation, high in the azure skies. Below them the ground zipped past, looking like a canvas from the perspective of their altitude. Galewind cast a glance at his retinal tactical display and frowned.

"Gold Leader here. Twelve-'o seconds till the alleged enemy perimeter. Be ready."

All of the ten tactical marks of his ponies, half a squadron, blinked green, acknowledging his words. They didn’t need a full twenty pegasi for a recon, so he had picked volunteers.

"Foxtrot-9. Possible fresh arty emplacements, concealed." Puff Cloud reported.

"Roger. Snap it."

Everypony of them were equipped with flight cameras, to make the results of their reconnaissance more evident. Galewind looked at the abandoned railway in another sector. Half the road was in the enemy hooves but thank Goddesses it was rather far away from the  city.  The railway was a secondary branch, going to a small cargo depot, long since abandoned and blown up. And currently something was awfully off about it.

"Huh?" He adjusted zoom of his helmet's visor, concentrated on the rails and frowned. Yep, they were repaired recently. And nobody had reported that so far. "Echo-8. Abandoned railway, recently renovated by the enemy-"

He wanted to say more, but the zoomed in picture brought to his attention something even more frightening. The rails were vibrating in a steady rhythm. It wasn't just repaired,  was in use right now! "Gold Seventeen, come in!"

"Golf Sierra here, sir!" an airpony answered. This pegasus was in the higher echelon of their formation.

"Do you observe any trains approaching Echo-8?"

"Afraid not, sir. Not for at least 50 miles from us." But the train moving so far wouldn't cause that kind of vibration anyway.

"Gold Two, cover me!"

"Aye aye, sir!" Puff Cloud complied.

Galewind did a half-roll and swooped down. Other pegasi regrouped in anticipation of an unknown threat. At 1000 meters from the ground air suddenly got adorned with a black clouds of flak shell detonations. Galewind executed an evasive maneuver, followed by Puff Cloud, but not quick enough as he felt a crescendo of schrapnel impacts on his armor.

His airponies looked in shock at a formerly empty railway below. The air above the rails shimmered and waded away like a heated celluloid film, and revealing a large angular locomotive plowing forward. By the slight rippling of the hot air around it's wide exhaust, instead of smoke, Galewind concluded it's most likely running on some kind of liquid fuel.

The locomotive pulled a whole train of armoured cars. Some of them clearly equipped for anti-air defense. In the center of the train there was the largest and longest car, sporting   two high caliber cannons, basically screamed "Siege Guns!". 

Galewind began to ascend, flying in a complex pattern to shake off the zebra gunners. He knew zebras used stealth technology for infiltration and sabotage missions, but he never would have thought they can pull off something of this scale.

The situation was both extremely lucky and unlucky at the same time. Lucky because some striped idiot lost his cool and opened fire on them, disrupting the camouflage.

His pegasi were circling the moving train evading high altitude projectiles, unsure what to do. Dancing between detonations the major switched frequencies and called Control. "Ground Control, this is Gold Leader, come in!"

There was a pause, then colonel spoke. "Gold Leader, what's the situation?"

"Concealed armored train in Echo Eight. Moving by the Twelve-Twenty towards the Podunk Barns. Our approach made them decloak."

"Come again, Gold Leader? " Cirrus Mist, evident from her tone, was shaken.

"I repeat, an armored train. Mostly AA cars, but there is the one armed with what resembles high caliber siege cannons."

"Gold Leader, is there a green glow around the muzzle face?" The question was highly unnerving in its specificness, a slowly building gut feeling of an experienced battle flier suggested that Cirrus Mist knew something about this he didn't.

Galewind made a pass right above the siege car, him hoping that the trains flak cannons couldn't shoot at 90 degrees straight so he would be safe  for a moment. The huge, at least twelve inches wide cannon barrels indeed faintly glowed green. "Control, the green glow confirmed. I repeat-"

"Gold Leader, can you derail it?"

He pondered the question. And then switched back to the tactical frequency. "Gold Leader here, engaging the railway."

He took a nosedive right in front of the train, from the angle the least saturated with AA fire. Other squadron members took their assigned positions, covering him and distracting flak gunners.

He fired a volley of energy bolts and struck the rail. Strangely enough it didn't budge. 'Fucking zebras must've enchanted the path!' he thought ascending back.
"Negative, control. The rails appear to be reinforced by the enemy!"

"Gold Leader, abort the mission and return immediately!"

Galewind  looked into the distance of a spanning railway.  At Podunk Barns the train would be closest to the city. Twelve-inchers like that, at this much of elevation, as far as he remembered, could have a range of fire of approximately forty miles. That meant it could reach the outskirts. But what was the point in only two guns on a lone armored train so close to the pony positions? It couldn't fire from the go. And after the first  salvo it would be overrun, if parked.

He turned off the tactical frequency, leaving only command channel on. "Control, with all due respect, what's going on?"

"Gold Leader, return to the base, that's an order!"

"Control, either you telling what's going on or I'll disobey the order and will  bring up your suspicious behavior at the court-martial." He heard a commotion in the control room, yells and orders.

After a long silence the colonel spoke again. "Gale..." she paused, "That's balefire launchers."

Galewind felt like he froze and was going to fall down like a rock with solid wings hearing those words. So, the whole J-20 business was a Zebra distraction. Or a real thing indeed, did't matter. The train would have gotten to Podunk Barns, basically a no-ponys land. By the time it would've been detected in a decloaked state, it would've been already to late,
as the first salvo would have obliterated half of the city.  Most likely followed by an assault from J-20 at a demoralized and devastated pony force.

Good thing he chose the present flightpath, instead of taking the other one. The one going around E-8. He looked at the clock in his helmet, and noticed, absent-mindely that it was 14:00. His wife's wagon was scheduled for 15:00. Her irrational love to arrive early to any place she was heading to meant that she most likely already was waiting at the outskirts airport, along with the other relocating personnel... Even if the squadron would return, the train would be at firing range in ten minutes. Not only his wife, thousands of other ponies he sworn to protect with his life would die horribly. Galewind felt a panic he didn't feel probably since the junior flight school. 

He and his pegasi were powerless against the train itself. Their energy weapons could hardly dent it's armor. They didn't have anyting like large caliber weapons or bombs on them. All they could possibly do is return ASAP and try to carry out as much ponies as possible with their bare hooves. Unless... Unless...

Galewind felt a disgusting lump in his throat. 

No, he had no right, he couldn’t order this to any of his airponies.

Except for himself.

He activated his scorpion tail and purposely struck the power pack of his own armor suit. Again, and again. "Warning, destabilized magicell detected! Detonation is imminent! Vacate suit at once!" His displays began to glow red. Monotonous voice of the auto-diagnostic tool sounded like a tocsin.

"Commander, what are you doing?" Puff Cloud, of course! He winced at the question so much resembling his own.

"Gold Leader here! All the team, ascend to a higher altitude and return to the base immediately!" A small chorus of pained aye ayes was his answer. 

"Puff, tell Stormy Weather I love her!"

"Commander, what the buck is going on?" She was frightened, understandably so. There was no time for explanations. He feared that the self-preservation instinct would get the best of him.  

"Gold Leader here, engaging the train! Do not cover me!"

He took another nosedive, approaching the target head on. He gave this flight everything he got.

“Major!!! What are you doing?!” the helmet speakers screamed at him.

The locomotive was getting closer and closer at an alarming rate.

Gunners were trying to take him down, but he, being like if in some kind of a battle trance, avoided all the shells aimed at him.  Red indicator on his display was at full. Now even the slightest touch would set the magicell off.

'Goddesses, make it to be enough-'



The ancient rails, although twisted and broken, somehow didn't have even a modicum of rust on them. Remains of a huge locomotive, melted beyond assured recognition, laid at some distance from a large glazed crater that tore the railway in half.

A bunch of derailed train cars littered the landscape around, one of them long and thick, with two railway cannons partially stuck in the ground. A dirty rain poured lazily from above, dampening the wreck, making it's  etal parts glisten in the faint shadow of a sunlight that managed to reach the ground through the clouds.

First Lieutenant Stubborn Hail marveled at the destruction below standing at the helm of the small raptor-class cloudship, currently under his command. "I wonder..." he muttered to himself and walked away from the observation post back to his command chair.

At the tactical table nearby there stood an old yellowed picture of a pegasus stallion in a wartime dress uniform. An Hero of Equestria medal ribbon attached to the picture's frame. Stubborn Hail looked at the clock, then took a paper knife from the table and opened a large envelope stamped with 'Top Secret!' all around.

Inside there was a map and a large paper titled Operation: Cauterize. The more he read into it, the more frown appeared on his face. He folded the paper, leaving the map on the table.

"So, that how it is going to be, Grandpa?" he asked the portrait, in a rhetorical manner. The stallion in the picture couldn't have been his actual grandpa, of course. There were at least two centuries between them. But that was what everyone in the family called their famous ancestor, major Galewind.

"Set the new course. Bearing twenty two and five." First Lieutenant told his helmspony before turning to the voice tube, "Engeneering, ahead one-third. " And, after a short contemplation, he added, "I'll go check the cloud generator in a few moments. Don't mind me."

With this, Stubborn Hail began to walk towards the main corridor…
> Enclave: V is for Vertibuck by Jamin P Rose
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

In the wasteland there is one sound above all that you should fear. It is not the cry of a Hellhound, nor is it the impact of a bullet, no it is the sound of a Vertibuck. Some would argue I’m wrong but hear me out, in the wasteland the majority of the threats are on the ground; they are bound by gravity, only able to move so fast and only in so many directions. A Vertibuck however, follows different rules, it is able to reposition and attack from a dozen different directions a lot quicker than anything on the ground. The other side of the cap is that Vertibucks mean Enclave troops; each one trained for war and ready to deliver death to whoever gets in their way. They aren’t even worth trying to salvage, the Enclave jealousy guards their technology and resources, and will gladly blow it up than let it fall into the hooves of surface dwellers.

If you hear the whir of a Vertibuck pray to the goddesses, because you’re going to need all the help you can get, trust me, I know…
 

***

Small caliber rounds slammed into the ground I had been standing on just moments ago. The rock I rolled behind provided some cover for the moment but it wouldn’t last. The ever-present whir of the Enclave Vertibuck changed in intensity as they moved around to attack again. I didn’t have much time to think, rolling out from behind my rock and dashing across the ground towards the wreck of a sky wagon. Rounds peppered the ground chasing me all the way to the wagon and where they pinged off of the solid metal of the hull. I counted my blessings that the wagon was a Ministry of Peace ambulance, those things had decently thick metal hulls, at least strong enough to shrug off whatever caliber round the Enclave were using.

This gave me a chance to reload my 50-caliber revolver, which was the only weapon I had that could punch through the armor on the thing. As I used my magic to slot in the rounds, the Vertibuck made another pass and peppered the other side with rounds. I had to hurry, a luck shot from them could set off the spell matrix that used to power the thing and then I’d be a crispy Unicorn; with my weapon loaded, I prepared to cast a spell and dove out of the MoP Ambulance. As soon as my hooves hit the ground and I started to roll, I cast my spell. Lightning arched from my horn and towards where I expected it to be, I missed by a good ten feet but that was closer than my last attempt.

They were wising up to my tactics as I dodged behind another rotting hulk of a vehicle, this time their rounds not only punched through the hull, but hit the spell matrix and cracked the casing. I made a hurried run from the chariot, diving through the doorway of a half-ruined convenience store. Behind me there was a loud pop, and as I tucked around behind the half intact door, the chariot exploded. I could feel the heat and corrupted magic wash over me; I’d definitely need some Radaway when I got home. Peaking over the door I was able to get a clear shot on one of the Pegasi piloting the thing. I quickly fired two rounds into the glass protecting the pony, the first one cracked it and the second punched through and into the head of one of the pilots.

I had taken out one of them but it cost me my position. I made a mad dash, ducking between the shelves as I ran towards the back, sliding out the back door just as rounds slammed into the ground I had been on moments before. As luck would have it there was a large delivery wagon right behind the store, I slipped under it with ease and took a moment to catch my breath. I could still hear them circling the area looking for me, thankfully, they hadn’t seen me duck under here but I was effectively trapped under this wagon. I had a choice to make; either I try to hide or I attack them again.

As I weighed my options, I pulled out a couple of tabs of rad-x and downed them with a quick swig from my canteen. The Vertibuck passed overhead again, this time I could see that they had activated their spotlight and that decided it for me. I couldn’t hide here until they left, I had to take them out. I charged my horn with my lightning spell, pumping as much power as I could into it and holding it at the ready for their next pass. My heart thudded in my ears as I waited, the whir of their propellers started to get louder until they passed over my hiding place. I rolled out into the open and fired my spell, hitting them dead center.

The war machine sputtered and fell out of the sky with a whistling, a loud bang echoing out as it hit the ground. I knew that if any of them survived they’d be on me in the blink of an eye, so I holstered my pistol and drew my semi-auto assault rifle and switched to my armor piercing clip. I also decided to cast my shield spell, which manifested in the form of a half dome just in time to block two beams of magical energy. Up in the air above me hovered a Pegasus in power armor, I couldn’t see their face but they were no doubt angry. I quickly leveled my rifle at them and fired two shots back, one hit the Pegasus’ shoulder and the other missed as they quickly flew out of the way.

The pony tried to fly around me to bypass my shield, but I was adept at controlling my shield and moved it with me, always keeping it facing them. As I spun, I fired a few more shots and scored a couple more hits, one even striking their wing which forced them to retreat for the moment. This gave me the change to reshape my shield into a dome with firing slits, and to draw my other rifle. With two identical rifles at the ready, I switched to fresh clips of AP rounds and steadied myself.

Not a minute later a whole squad, consisting of 8 Pegasi in power armor, were flying towards me and firing their weapons at me. My shield helped block a good amount of incoming fire, but some lucky shots got through the firing ports I had added to my shield. I quickly returned fire with both my rifles, taking out one of the Pegasi instantly with a headshot while wounding at least two others. The rest of the squad quickly spread out and forced me to spin and aim at one at a time. Two more shots connected and I had another Pegasus down for the count, hitting one of their wings with both rounds. The six remaining Pegasi were quickly joined by another, before taking up a defensive formation around the newcomer, and Enclave Officer by the outfit he wore.

“Lay down your arms and surrender, Wastelander.” The officer shouted as he looked down at me.
 
“No! You attacked me for absolutely no reason! Leave and I will not fire on you as you do so!” I shouted back at the bastard. I kept my guns trained on him while preparing to fire a bolt of lightning at him.

“You seem to misunderstand your position here, Wastelander. You are outnumbered and outgunned,” The officer called back as he indicated to the six Pegasi around him.
 
“My name is Power Flow! Remember it when you limp back to your high command and tell them you got your flank handed to you by a Unicorn,” I shout, dropping my shield and both my guns to unleash a massive bolt of lightning. They have no time to react and they all fall from the sky, paralyzed and helpless. I quickly pick up my rifles in my magic and rush over to them. Moving from pony to pony I take what weapons I can get off of their armor quickly and break the rest; arriving just in time to knock the Enclave officer out with the butt of my rifle and take his gauss pistol. I put all the weapons I collected into my saddlebags and tuck away one of my rifles before quickly heading in the opposite direction of the Vertibuck.
 

***

 
After ten or fifteen minutes I found a building to duck into, it was dark inside and had no windows in the back. The Enclave ponies were still alive and I had no intention of letting them follow me home. I quickly set up my bed roll, pulled out a can of veggies and a Sparkle Cola for dinner. After having my meal, I sat there in the dark with my rifle and waited. I expected that they would eventually get the Vertibuck working and come after me, and I was ready for them. It wasn’t more than an hour later when I heard the whir of a Vertibuck pass over head, except it wasn’t the only one. A second Vertibuck passed overhead a scant few minutes later, prompting me to draw my other rifle. I stayed absolutely still, holding in the urge to curse as I realized that those were two completely functional Vertibucks.

I did the only thing I could, I prayed to the Goddesses and kept my rifles close. I didn’t get much sleep that night, jerking awake a few times in night as I tried to fight off my exhaustion. Finally sleep took me just a couple hours before dawn, I slept for a good six hours before my body would let me get up again. After coming too and checking my surroundings, I cautiously made my way out of the building and back towards where the Vertibuck had crashed. Thankfully the world was quiet, not even the wind made a sound as I walked with my rifles at the ready. I swept every place I could think of where they may be hiding, they were all thankfully empty and showed no signs of use.
 
When I arrived at the crash site, I was surprised to find little trace of what had happened. There was a crushed wagon where the Vertibuck had likely landed, and there were bits of scrap that looked like the remains of whatever parts they had replaced. Otherwise there wasn’t anything to indicate what had happened. I uttered a quick thanks to the Goddesses and turned towards home, tucking my rifles away and checking to make sure my pistol was loaded and ready; my ears perked and listening for the sounds of a Vertibuck, hoping and praying to the Goddesses that I wouldn’t encounter another one.
> Enclave: Neighvarro in Sight By Trooper
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

I sit inside my power armor with my eyes closed. My stomach churns as it always does before a combat jump.  I feel the movement of craft around me. Inside my mind every time the Vertibuck jumps I play the mental game of turbulence or concussion. The noise from the rotors being so loud that it is hard to hear explosions outside the aircraft. We know we are heading into a hot landing zone and have been told to be ready.

But this time is different from all of the other times I have had to make a jump. Even during Operation Cauterize something like this was not imagined.  This time it is a counterstrike and our target is the cloud city of Neighverro, particularly the military leadership there. They still claim to be the Grand Pegasus Enclave, but the Enclave was to protect the Pegasi, not attack them like they have Thunderhead.

My goddesses, what they did there. I will never forget watching old stallions, mares and foals having to run for their lives as they evacuated the cloud city as it was attacked by the Neighverro cloud ship squadron. Inside my blood still boils at the horror of it all. I don't even know if any of my family has survived the attack and only pray my husband and foals are alive.

Suddenly I hear over my suit radio the jumpmaster call out, “Two minutes out, everypony on your hooves and get ready to move to the door.

I fully power up my powerarmor’s spell matrix and watch as my heads-up display comes fully online. Off to the left I see the jump indicator light still reading red. I watch as we get closer to the jump point and the side doors of the Vertibuck slide open and the indicator turns yellow. I watch as suddenly one of the vertibucks in our assault wing takes a direct hit and explodes, I looks like maybe two troopers made it out, mostly I see its wreckage and debris as well as a few lifeless bodies falling to Equus below us.

Over my headset I hear, “This is Yellow Taffy one, keep your eyes on the targets bucks and mares. When we jump, form up on me on the move. The vertibucks will be continuing to provide fire support.”

I feel the aircraft slow and I know it is almost time. Before I can say anything, I hear the aircraft jumpmaster call out, “Three, Two, One, Jump, Jump, Jump!”

I see the jump light flash to green and I advance to the door as those in front of me jump out into the air, they dive down about one hundred feet to clear the aircraft's wake and then they deploy their wings fully.

As I leap from the Vertibuck I hear its miniguns open fire and I turn to look, I see a flight of hostile pegasi coming at us. Using my suits EFS I spot where my flight leader is and I begin to glide that way, but I also bring up my Stable-Tec Arcane Targeting system and begin to target the incoming enemy with my dual magical energy weapons.

SATS is another holdover from the war that was incorporated into the pegasi power armor. The SATS allows me to target each one and I fire for center mass targets mainly. If I cannot puncture through their armor, perhaps I will be lucky enough to disrupt their suit's spell matrix and knock them out of the sky too.

“All Yellow Taffy units, form up asap, engage on the move. We need to blow through them. Do not, I repeat do not get involved in a static engagement.”

I hear the others call out their understanding as do I, “Taffy Seven, roger.”

As we approach the landing zone, I see several pegasi go down from both sides.  I see Yellow Taffy one land and he starts to direct the others into position as they land behind him. Of the ten on our vertibuck we have lost two already.

As I land, I take concealment behind a minor cloud rise and begin to crawl on my belly towards the corner of a building. I look up and I realize we have dropped in the wrong area. Damn it we are in a residential area. We are way short of the military facilities, much less their headquarters.

I call out, “Yellow Taffy one, this is Yellow Taffy Seven we are short, I repeat we are short and have landed in a residential area.”

In reply I hear, “NO kidding, now keep the airwaves clear except for necessary chatter. Yellow Taffy Three and Yellow Taffy Five, this is Yellow Taffy one, lay down covering fire for me while Yellow Taffy seven, six and myself advance.”

I hear their MEW’s rapid firing as I jump up and begin to run forward. I notice that the return fire is not accurate or nearly as heavy here. Then I see that the reason is we are currently engaging members of the Neighvarro police force and some civilians, most likely retired Enclave Military members.

That does not mean they are not dangerous though. I then see down an alleyway to the side one of Blue Taffy’s troopers get taken down by a group of them. Sure, a couple of the civilians go down too, but there are way more of them, than us. However, as I run by the alleyway, I still fire a few shots down it to try and help the blues out.

I come up to the stairway of a building at the corner of an intersection. As I get ready to take cover the door opens and Taffy One tells me to get inside.

I run up the steps and take a position just next to a window so I can cover those behind us. Just after the rest of the team gets inside, I see a vertibuck take a hit from a missile launcher and watch as it crashes through the clouds of the street in flames on its way to the Wastelands below. The spot where it passed through the clouds remaining open so we can see through the cloud deck.

I am still staring out the window at the hole in the clouds when I hear movement behind me. I spin around and almost fire by instinct but stop myself in the last second. I am stunned to see a mare with her two young foals crying in a corner behind us. How did they get there? I ask myself.

I put a hoof to my muzzle and tell them “Shhh”

This gets the Sergeants attention. He turns around, sees the civilians and opens fire on them killing them.

I am stunned and horrified. I yell out, “What did you do that for?”

I see the smug look on his muzzle as he snidely tells me, “They are Neighvarrioans. After what they did to Thunderhead, they deserve no better. Besides, don’t you realize that those foals would have grown up some day and we would have had to fight them then.”

I cannot believe this; I cannot believe what I am seeing or hearing. “But they are pegasi, we swore to protect them.”

From my other side I hear my old friend Skyfall tell me, “Buttercup you better listen up and learn quickly, in a civil war they are all targets. Same goes for us. They started it, now they get to reap the rewards.”

“But Skyfall, they were only foals!” I try to tell him.

He shakes his head at me and says, “No they were enemy offspring that is all. Do you think her husband or her for that matter would have worried about killing your husband or foals? Do you? Do you even know if they are alive, because I am not sure if my wife and my foal are or not? I know my parents aren’t.”

We are interrupted when I hear over my suit’s radio, “All Taffy Elements, this is Taffy One. Prepare to advance.”

We all move to the door to get ready to move. I turn my head and look at the three lifeless bodies. I feel a tear in my eye and I quietly mouth to them, “I am so sorry.”

Then I hear my sergeant yelling, “Move, move, move,” and we are all running out the doors. The remaining Vertibucks are circling above us and laying down covering fire. I see another one get hit, and I watch as it begins to have troubles staying aloft. I see a cloud of smoke begin to come out of one engine and then I see the motor explode. I watch as the pilot leads it on the street and the crew bail out of it, two of them being cut down by enemy fire.

We are two blocks further along when we meet the next band of resistance. It is a storefront that has been blown out. Inside I can see vague motions. So, I turn on my EFS and I see four red tags. I am just about to open fire using my SATS when I hear quietly over my radio. “Yellow Taffy Seven form on me, we are going to try and flush them out.

Just as I begin to get up, I see several beams from a MEW minigun barely miss me and hit the spot I had been in mere seconds before. I dive forward and am running as fast as I can, zig zagging as I go. I see bolts of fire coming from both in front and behind us. I get to the store front and am laying on my belly below the window frame. I watch as my sergeant takes out a metal apple, pulls the pin and tosses it inside the shop.

I hear the sound of it landing on a countertop and the screams of those inside when they see it. However, the screams are cut short by the blast. Be both jump up, run inside and fire at anything that moves.

We continue like this for the next hour. We have moved out of the residential section of the town and are at the edge of the military base. I can see several raptor class cloud ships at their docks in the distance. Closer I see Neighvarroian troops deployed to defend the base. There are several smaller clouds scattered around the main entrance that are built up and ponied. Everyone of them showing up as an EFS as a red tic mark. This is so not good. I don’t think there is any way we can win, but we still have to try.

I listen to the comments coming over my radio from the other members of my wing that are still alive. The captain of our wing comes over the comms channel and I hear him say, “All Taffy units prepare to advance. Make it a quick strike. Cause as much damage as you can, we will reform below the cloud layer, Good luck and may Celestia bless and Luna defend.”

I realize when he says this that he too does not think we can make the mission objective. Our raid has changed from trying to capture or kill the leaders of Neighvarro to simply hoping we can hurt them as much as possible.

Then I hear, “Taffy Units forward!” and we all move as quickly as we can forward in a charge.

It is then that I notice that the weapons on the Raptors are now hot and we begin to take fire from them as well as the pegasi in power armor. Then I realize that the Vertibucks above us are no longer ours, but they are the Neighvarroian instead, as they too begin to fire at us.

I am still running at full speed and leap into the air to clear a defensive cloud outpost when I feel a burning sensation on my right side, and I am knocked out of the air.



I call out over the radio, “Yellow Taffy Seven, I am hit bad. I need a medic.”

“Roger that Yellow Taffy Seven. We will pick you up as soon as we can.” I hear back.

As I look up, I realize they not only knew we were coming, they let us. Before I can say anything, over my radio I hear, “All Taffy Units, this is Taffy One, it’s a trap. Fly for your lives.”

I call over my radio, “This is Yellow Taffy Seven, for the Goddesses sake don’t leave me. Please don’t leave me!”

I then hear, “Sorry Yellow Taffy Seven, you’re on your own.” I swear it is my sergeant's voice. That bastard.

All I can do is watch as my squad and wing mates try to make good their escape, some make it. Most don’t. As I lay there, I feel myself becoming slowly weaker from loss of blood and internal injuries.

I am laying on the cloud looking up at the sky when I see four power suits land nearby. I hear one of them say, “Hey sarge look, a prisoner.”

I hear another answer back, “You heard what these filthy bastards did. They were killing civilians. The elderly, mares and foals. The captain says no prisoners.”

“But Sarge that just don’t seem right.”

“Don’t but Sarge me.  Do your duty, Soldier, or do you intend to become a Dashite?”

“No Sarge, not me. It’s just…”

“It’s just what colt?  It’s war. I don’t care if she was your sister, she is the enemy. You know what we do to the enemy right?”

I look up and the sergeant is next to me and he has his MEW pointed at my head. Then he says, “Looks like we got us a civil war now between us and Thunderhead, so that makes them the enemy.”

I feel a tear fall from my eye and I think of my husband and foals. I want to say something but I am too weak. I notice that my vision is starting to dim and I hear the one say, “Sarge, she ain’t got too much longer anyways, let’s go.”

“Yeah, your right, why waste an energy cell.”

As they begin to fly away, I hear one of them say, “May the Goddesses forgive us.” I try to see them, but all I see is a bright light surrounded by darkness which grows as does the coldness in my body. I take a few gasping breaths and finally, I see no more.
> Before the Bombs: Jack of All Trades  By Trooper
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------


Jack-of-all-trades \ ˌjak-əv-ˌȯl-ˈtrādz  \ plural jacks-of-all-trades



Definition of jack-of-all-trades: a person who can do passable work at various tasks: a handy versatile person. Merriam-Webster’s Collegiate Dictionary, Eleventh Edition.



 


“Are you sure you want to do this?” the sergeant asks as he leans on the wooden desk inside the recruiting office. I look back outside at the dusty street of Appleloosa and nod my head. Causing him to shake his. Then he tells me, “You are a mule, you are exempt from the draft. Heck you can’t even say you are doing this for the foals you might one day sire.”

I look at the old, unicorn stallion behind the desk. I notice the scars on his violet coat and his short cropped green mane and tail. I linger on the spot where his left foreleg used to be and can see the fake leg sticking out of his uniform sleeve. I then look at the poster on the wall behind him showing one of the Steel Rangers Standing tall in its power armor holding up an Equestrian national flag. Above the image are the words, I am doing my part, are You?

That cinches it for me. I look the sergeant in the face and tell him, “Yes, I am. I am just as much an Equestrian citizen as the next pony.”

I see him laugh a bit at that, “Son, you aren’t even a real pony. Look at ya. Long ears, skinny build, heck not even a cutie mark. But if you really want ta, sure, I will sign you up. So, what is your specialty?”

I feel myself blush a bit at this as I have not yet found one job I really excel at, but I do know how to do a lot, so I tell him, “I am a jack of all trades.”

He smirks, “Is that a mule joke?”

I am bewildered at first and tell him, “No, not really why?”

He is still trying to fight down a laugh when he tells me, “Well, being a male mule is also called a jack, I just thought maybe you were making light of it.”

I smile at the confusion and laugh lightly myself at the misunderstanding caused by my wording. Well if I can get him to laugh, perhaps the day is not so bad.

Then he asks me, “So what is your name?”



I tell him, “Most call me Johnny, but my formal name is Johnny Cake.”

I see him look up at me and he asks, “Any relation to the Cakes over in Ponyville?”

I smile at that, and nod my head, “Distant relations, that side of the family doesn’t like to claim my mother, sister or me. You know how it is, since mom married a donkey.”

I see him nod his head, “Yeah, that’s too bad, but it happens in all families I guess,” then he shifts the subject back to business, “Ok, sit down and I will begin the paper work for you.”

I sit down and we begin to fill out the paperwork. It takes about an hour for me to hurriedly read and sign all of the forms. Once I am done, he then says, “Thank goodness you can read, lately we have been getting an influx of recruits who can’t. It takes a lot longer that way.”

“I can imagine so Sergeant. But what do I do next?”

He smiles and tells me, “Return in the morning, I will have you see the town doctor for a physical, if everything checks out, tomorrow afternoon I will put you on a train for one of the bootcamps. After that it is wherever the army sends you.”

I nod my head and smile, “Thank you sir, I appreciate it. I will see you in the morning.”

He nods, “Your welcome, and don’t call me sir. I work for a living.”

After that I head to my hotel room and make a quick phone call to my mom on a payphone in the lobby.

“Hello?”  I hear her ask as she answers the phone.

“Hi ma. I just wanted to let you know I only have to take a physical in the morning and then I should be off for bootcamp.”

I hear her sigh through the phone, “Johnny are you sure? You really don’t have to do this. Your job here in Harness is important enough.”

I love her and I know she loves me so she is worried, but we have had this argument already. Still I tell her, “Ma, I know that and I understand. But ever since what happened at the Littlehorn School I have felt I needed to do something and now with what those damn stripes tried at Shattered Hoof, I have to stand up and fight ma. Digging in the ground is not going to satisfy my conscious anymore.”

Little did I know when I said them, how ironic those words will someday be.

I hear her start to cry and her voice cracks as she tells me, “Ok, you’re a stallion now and I can’t tell you what to do anymore. But please be careful, pray to the Goddesses and know we love you dear.”

“I will ma, I will.”

The phone call is interrupted by the operator’s voice, “That will be two bits to continue talking for another three minutes.”

I slide the bits into the phone and tell my mother, “Sorry ma, I am going to have to go soon. I love you and will miss all of you. I will come home again as soon as I can.” I tell her, hoping I can, but not sure if I will be able to.

“Bye Johnny,” she tells me.

“Take care ma. Give everyone my love and I will write as soon as I can.” I tell her then I hang up the phone.

I turn around and am surprised to see a unicorn and pegasus in black suits and sunglasses behind me. First thing I think is Great it’s the Pinks. But why would they be interested in me? Then I realize they are my second cousins, Pound and Pumpkin. They look me up and down and then Pound Cake says, “We need to talk. Follow us.”

I follow them down the street and down an alleyway. Once there Pumpkin and Pound lead me down the stairs into a business’s basement. As we enter, I see a chair with several bright lights pointed at it. I also see several unicorns there. Most are in black suits like the twins, but one is in a Ministry of Peace uniform and is sitting quietly to the side.

Once inside I am led to the seat and told to take it, which I do without a fuss. Then Pumpkin asks me, “Do you know why we are here?”

I shake my head, “No, but it is good to see you again.”

I then hear Pound Cake say, “Johnny, it’s good to see you too, but I wish it was under better circumstances.”

I am confused at this and ask, “Why? What is wrong? All I did was join the army.”

I see them look at each other. Then Pumpkin tells me, “Johnny, you know that the residents of Harness are not supposed to join the service don’t you.”

“I guess,” I say reluctantly, “But I never understood why.” I just work at the town repairing small appliances and such, I never have even gone near the new mine.”

Pound then pounces forward, his wings flaring slightly, and says, “But you know what they mine there and that is enough.”



I am confused by this and tell him, “What, the sulfur and salt?” That is nothing, the damn stripes would care less about those. Now if we were talking coal or something like that, well I could see keeping it quiet.”



The twins look at each other and then Pumpkin nods to one of the other unicorns who comes over and her horn lights up and she touches it to my forehead. I cannot help but scream in pain at first. Then the pain stops. She steps back and the light on her horn goes out.

The unicorn agent steps back and tells them. “He’s clear. He doesn’t know anything.”

I see Pumpkin and Pound nod their heads. Then I see a side door to the basement room open and in walks the Ministry Mare herself.  I recognize her not only from all the posters and the newspapers, but also, I remember meeting her at the last cake family reunion my mother took us too.

She smiles as she walks over to me and tells me, “It is good to see you again Johnny. I guess you won’t be around for your birthday, being you will be in training and all, so Happy Birthday early.”

I am very surprised that she remembered it, then she surprises me and tells me, “Johnny, I need you to do something very important for me.”

I nod my head and wait to hear what it is. When she continues, she tells me, “I am afraid we may have zebra agents and sympathizers in the army. I want you to watch for them and let me know if you think somepony is one. Got that?”

I again nod as I tell her, “Uh, yeah, I can do that. I would have done that anyways.”

She smiles and puts a hoof along my cheek and says, “I know you would. But I don’t want you to let anyone in your command know. You can let me know by writing a letter to Pumpkin. If you tell Pumpkin somepony is not feeling right, we will know to check them out. Ok?”

“Yeah, yeah I can do that. No problem.” I tell her.

She smiles even wider, if that is possible and says, “See, I knew you were a smart mule. By the way, don’t tell anypony I was here.”

“Yes ma’am, I know better. Everybody knows not to say anything about the Pinks.”

I see her start to look frustrated and she shakes her head, “I hate them calling my agents the Pinks. Too bad they just cannot think of it as MoM is watching over us instead of the Pinks are after us,” she says then lets out a big sigh and then tells me, “Ok, you are free to go then. Remember to tell nopony and that I am watching you, Forever.”



Then I watch as she walks out of the room. The other agents other than Pumpkin and Pound follow her. They both lead me back the way I came to my hotel.

Once we are in the lobby, Pumpkin gives me a brief hug and tells me, “Good luck Johnny. I look forward to your letters.”

After she steps away Pound steps up and offers me a hoof and we shake as he tells me, “Take care cousin. Give the stripes hell for us and the rest of the family.”

“I will Pound. Both of you take care and I will write. Do I still use the old address or are you at a new outlet now?”

They both smile at each other and tell me, “Oh, we still work out of the Ponyville store, so just mail your letters there.”

Then we exchange a hug and hoofshake once more and they are gone as quickly as they arrived. I then head up to my room and as I settle in for the night, I wonder what the next few days will bring.


0-0-0-0


Two days later I am on the train heading to Fillydelphia, bound for the recruit training center there, after which I will attend advanced training with the combat engineers. We pull into a decent sized city in the middle of farm country. I see in the distance a large factory being built. I am so busy staring at it and the other sights I almost miss the sign saying Welcome to Manesville.

We stop at the station there and as I look out the window, I notice a large number of cattle mixed in with the ponies here. I am almost fascinated at how there are more cows and bulls I can see working than unicorns. I never have seen cattle in such roles before. I guess the war really is changing everything. My fascination changes a bit though when I see a bull get onto the car and he notices the seat next to me is empty so he takes it, causing me to be a bit tighter in my seat than I had wanted to be.

I smile at him and he says, “Hi,” as he sticks out a hoof. “It’s good to meet you. My name is Sweet Corn, what’s yours?”

I tell him, “Most folks just call me Johnny.”

I see him think and he innocently says, “That is a funny name for a pony.”

I smile at his innocence and I tell him, “That is because I am a mule, not a pony.”

He looks at me funny when I say this and asks, “What’s a mule?”

So, I explain to him what a mule is and he smiles and says, “So you don’t have a cutie mark either, that is good to hear. I was beginning to think it was just me.”

I tilt my head when he says this and ask, “Sweet Corn, you don’t get out much do ya?” I had expected the normal comments about how I look, my ears or how skinny I am, not just that we both do not have cutie marks.



He shakes his head, “No, my family rarely left the farm. But now I am on my way to see the world. Yesterday I signed up for the army.”

“Same here Sweets. I just hope they don’t put me into some boring job.”

“Oh, I hear you on that Johnny. I want to go and fight for our country and prove to them I am just as good as any pony.”

His attitude seems to be infectious and while I am physically uncomfortable, I am starting to enjoy his company.

After this we begin to talk to each other about our families and what our homes are like. I find it fascinating to listen to him talk about his people. But I am also surprised at how much he loves Equestria and the Goddesses Luna and Celestia. I never thought that cattle would even think about such things.

Once we arrive at Fillydelphia we see a sign on the wall of the train platform with an arrow pointing towards the station stating, Arriving Recruits Report in at the Equestrian Service Office.

Both Sweets and I grab our bags and head in that direction. As we are walking, I see my first zebra and I just about trip over my hoofs that no one is doing anything about him. Sweets notices him and says, “It’s ok Johnny, he has red stripes, that means he is on our side.”

“Are you sure?”  I ask.

He nods his head and then waves the zebra over to us. The zebra is about our ages and has a slightly worried and confused look on his face. When he is close, he asks. “Pray tell, you could direct me to the ESO?”

Sweets smiles at him and says, “Sure, we are heading that way, come along with us if you want,” he pauses and then sticks out his hoof and says, “Oh, by the way, I am Sweet Corn and my friend here is Johnny Cake.”

The stipe sticks out his hoof and tells him, “A pleasure to meet you my bovine friend, I am Xerxes.”

I watch them shake hooves so I extend mine and reluctantly shake hooves with him before we continue on our way to the station.

Once we are inside the station, we follow the other arrows pointing us where to go. We are near the ESO office when I notice a small bar combination restaurant off to the side and suggest we grab something to eat before we report in. As the three of us start to enter I see a green unicorn mare with her bags next to her start laughing out loud. My companions both look at each other and me and I hear Xerxes ask, “I wonder what it is that she finds so funny?”

That makes up my mind so I decide to go over and ask her. Once I am next to her, I question her, “Excuse me ma’am, but I could not help but notice that you seemed to find myself and my companions very funny, could I ask why?”

I see her try and pull herself back together and then she starts laughing some more. Finally, she stops laughing and wipes her eyes and looks me straight in the face and tells me, “Really this has to be a joke right.”

I shake my head, “No, what are you talking about?” I ask.

Still trying not to laugh she says, “A bull, a mule and a zebra walk into a bar…”

I immediately look at my companions and have a mild laugh, “Yes, I get it now, sorry for bothering you ma’am.”

She finally gets full control of herself and says, “Sorry, I just found it very ironic, now where would a group like you three be going together?”

By this time my companions have arrived next to me and Xerxes answers her, “We are going to have a meal before we report to the ESO. It seems all three of us are heading to recruit training today.”

When he says this, I watch as her ears perk up and she tells us, “Well, so am I. You can call me Clover Leaf.”

We all then introduce ourselves and she joins us for our last meal before reporting in. During our meals we begin to talk about ourselves and where we are from. Xerxes it turns out comes from Hoofington. His father and mother are both professors at the university there. His father is the head of anthropology.

Clover Leaf lets us know that she is from Manehatten. In fact, her parents live downtown there and are very disappointed in her decision to enlist. I find that very interesting, as well as the fact her father works for some company called Four Stars and wanted her to work there also.

“So, what does Four Stars make?” I ask her.

She smiles and giggles as she tells me, “Mostly mistakes according to my father. I am not really sure what they make, but I know he works a lot with computers.”



After we eat, we all go to the ESO and find about 30 other recruits all waiting there also. The mare behind the desk at the door tells us, “Go ahead and take a seat. The next bus will depart in another hour.”

The four of us sit together and continue on our conversations from earlier. Finally, we hear an authoritative voice call out, “All new recruits heading to Camp Box Crib grab your bags and, on your hooves, move it, move it, move it!”

We grab our bags and head out the door and follow the soldier at a quick trot to a white painted bus. I am surprised when I see it and I notice that there is no team pulling it. Instead I see an earth pony sitting behind a round device to control the vehicle where the normal team driver would be. I then realize it must be magic spark powered. Beside me I hear Sweet Corn say, I heard about these, they are supposed to start making them in Manesville at the carriage plant.”

The pony that led us to the bus then gets on and tells us, “Now keep your mouths shut. When we arrive at the base you will get off the bus. There are yellow hoof marks on the ground each recruit will stand on a set. You will look forward and you will not speak unless spoken too. Finally, if you are asked a question you will answer with Sir yes sir, or Ma’am, yes Ma’am depending on the gender of the person requesting the information. Do you understand me?”

We all quietly say, “Sir, yes sir.”

He looks disgusted and says, “I can’t hear you!”

We all yell back, “Sir, Yes Sir!”

He nods his head and then says something to the driver. The door closes and we begin the ride to Camp Box Crib.”

Once there, we pull up outside a large white painted building with a sign that says Receiving Building on it in large black letters. In front of it are two rows of yellow hoof marks painted on the ground. Once stopped I see three large ponies, two unicorns and one earth pony, come out of the Receiving Building at a quick trot. All three of them have on wide brimmed hats and are in full uniform. The Earth pony jumps onto the bus and starts to scream, “On your hooves and go stand on a set of painted hoof marks, move it, now ponies, MOVE!”

We all jump up and are moving before we realize it. Even though we are in the middle we are still out and moving towards yellow hoof marks before the last ponies are even off the bus.

I end up standing on Clover Leaf’s right side. On my right is Sweet Corn and on his other side is Xerces. As we stand there the rest of the recruits fall in also. The three ponies in the wide brimmed hats look us over and then the yellow Unicorn with the short-trimmed mane and tail says in a feminine voice that makes me realize she is a mare, “Good Morning Recruits, I am First Sergeant Yellow Haze. I am your senior drill instructor. The other two are Staff Sergeant Round Bale,” at which time the brown earth pony with a black mane and tail steps forward, “And Sergeant Cable Run. WE will be making you into soldiers. All three of us are combat vets from the Hoofington front, so listen up if we tell you something. DO you understand me?”

We all yell out, “Ma’am, yes Ma’am.”

I see her look disgusted and she asks again, “I Can’t Hear You! Do You Understand me?”

This time we yell out louder and more in sequence with each other, “Ma’am, Yes Ma’am.”

“Now that is better. In a few minutes we will take you inside, you will each be given a two-minute phone call to let your families or whoever is important to you, know you have arrived. After this we will begin to inprocess you.”

Then she looks over at myself, Sweet Corn and Xerxes all standing next to each other and shakes her head. “She approaches us and asks, is this some kind of joke, is that what this is?”

We all three shake our heads no and tell her, “Ma’am, No Ma’am.”

Then she looks at Sweets and me and says, “Ok, so you two are in this through thick and thin I see.” Beside me I see Xerxes trying not to laugh as I know all too well how narrow I am built and how awkward it has to seem next to Sweet Corn’s build.

From there the next few weeks go very quickly as we turn in our civilian gear with the exception of some pictures from home and whatever few bits, we have with us. The rest is put into storage until we finish boot camp. We also receive our initial issue of uniforms.

I end up doing exercises for over an hour one time because I begin to laugh at the reactions of the supply clerks when they see Sweet Corn show up. One of them is so surprised he exclaims, “Bloody Tartarus, do we even have a tent big enough for him to wear?”

I start to laugh and I hear the supply clerk say, “So you think we are here for your amusement, huh.” He waves a hoof and suddenly I have all three DI’s there chewing me out and discussing my parentage. Which is mildly amusing again when one of them says, “You are no better than a mule.”

I can’t help myself, I grin and tell him, “Sir, I am a mule sir.” That goes over ever better.  They all do seem to be amused though when they make me do an exercise that they call Mule Kicks. This has me start at the position of attention, drop myself into a pushup position with my hindquarters raised. Then I have to kick straight back. Return my legs to their position and then go back to attention. I add one more reputation for each set and I continue to go until the tell me to stop. By then I am lathered in sweet and can barely keep my ears up. This is something I never want to do again, but I do end up repeating several times, both by myself as with the rest of members of my recruit platoon.



In the third week I receive a letter from my cousin Pound. He lets me know that he has heard that I have a zebra friend and that I should be careful of what others may think of this. I quickly write him back,

Pound,

     you and your sister Pumpkin have nothing to worry about. Yes, he is my friend and I keep him close for a reason. He is one of the most loyal stallions I have ever met. Among my friends are also a good bull named Sweet Corn and a unicorn mare named Clover Leaf. Now I do have another recruit though who is a draftee that has tried to make inroads to my friend about trying to help his kind.  Two Tone does seem a bit disgruntled and could probably use someone to talk to as he does seem to be feeling right. It is too bad he does not seem to want to seek help though.

I can not wait to see you all again, and will buy you both a nice hot Sweet Apple Acres cider when we do. Take care of yourselves and I hope sales are doing well at the shop. Tell your ma and pa hi for me also.

Your cousin

Johnny

The next week Two Tone is sent over the medical for a health check. We never see him again; however, I do see his bags being packed and his personal effect collected. The DI’s tell us he was found to have an underlying health issue and was being sent home. But I have a feeling I know the real story as that day while I am transiting the base to catch out to my training platoon, I think I see Two Tone in the distance with what looked like two “Pinks” escorting him. His head is down as are his ears and his tail. Part of me feels sorry for him, but part of me realizes I would not want to share a fox hole with him.

Overall bootcamp for us is typical except for after the sixth week we are allowed to sing while on the march. We are on our way out for an overnight bivouac several miles from the barracks when I hear the sergeant tell us, “Go ahead and sing.”

From next to me Xerxes begins one we heard another unit singing during our first week, I hear him begin,

I'll place my saddlebags on my back, My rifle on my shoulder

I'll march away to the firing line, and kill that Zebra soldier and kill that Zebra soldier

I'll march away to the firing line and kill that Zebra soldier

I see the grins on our fellow recruits faces as they realize who is singing it and they begin to join it as well.

I'll bid farewell to my wife and foal.  Farewell to my aged mother

And go and join in the bloody fight till this cruel war is over, till this cruel war is over

I'll go and join in the bloody fight till this cruel war is over

Next, I notice that Sergeant Cable Run is singing with us and our pace has sped up from a walk to a slow trot.

If I am shot on the battlefield and I should not recover

Oh, who will protect my wife and foal and care for my aged mother and care for my aged mother

Oh, who will protect my wife and foal and care for my aged mother

We continue across the post with our full loads on our backs at a trot as we continue singing.

Before Equestria shall bow her head, before the tyrant’s harm us

I'll give my all to the Equestrian cause and die in the Equestrian army and die in the Equestrian army

I'll give my all to the Equestrian cause and die in the Equestrian army

I begin to notice that we are now outside the main part of the base and even though we are running up and down hills as we sing we are not tiring as easily.

If I must die for my home and land my spirit will not falter

Oh, here's my heart and here's my hoof upon my country's altar, upon my country's altar

Oh, here's my heart and here's my hoof upon my country's altar

 

Then Celestia be with us in the strife, Be with the Equestrian soldier

We'll drive the mercenary horde beyond our Equestrian border, beyond our Equestrian border

We'll drive the mercenary horde beyond our Equestrian border

 As the song winds down, I see Sergeant Cable Run trotting next to Xerxes and I hear him ask, “You do realize that you are a Zebra soldier, don’t you recruit?”

Then I hear Xerxes reply, “Sir, this recruit is not a Zebra soldier, he is an Equestrian soldier who happens to be a zebra, a slight but important difference sir!”

I see the sergeant want to get angry for being contradicted but then I hear our First Sergeant, Yellow Haze call over to them, “You are very correct recruit, good answer,” she pauses then says, “At the Canter, March!” and we pick up speed again.

That night we simulate being on campaign and have to dig entrenchments with the short shovels that they issued us. I think back to telling my mother how I would not be satisfied with just digging in the earth. I look at myself and my comrades digging and smile to myself at the irony. Then I think it could be worse, it could be raining, and low and behold, as if Discord had heard me, it starts to rain. So instead of digging in the dirt, now I am digging in the mud. And it gets everywhere, and I mean everywhere.

Staff Sergeant Round Bale comes by and sees us digging and grins as he tells us, “Yeah, out in no mare’s land the weather is wild now, so we want you to get used to operating in it. Welcome to the army mares and bucks.”

I hear several of the others in my squad and platoon complain. Myself, I can’t help but laugh at how ludicrous it all is. I may laugh, but I do so around the shovel in my teeth as I continue to dig.

Overall, during our training we begin to find out what some of the skills of a soldier are and what we are good at. Myself, I am fairly good at most of them, but not spectacular. Not like Rowdy Kicker, the earth pony mare from Seaddle who excels at hoof to hoof. Nor am I like Long Shot the unicorn who is so good with a rifle that he is told that he will be recommended for sniper training. But I do make it through. We also find out about ourselves and how we can do more and endure more than we ever imagined.

It is during our last week of training when we get told of what field we are going to be assigned to. Beside me I hear Sweet Corn repeating, “Come on artillery.”

They begin to call our names and assignments, I really am concerned most about my friends and I first hear, “Clover Leaf, Combat Engineers.” I see a slight look of disappointment on her face as she had hoped for a tech job such as signal corps or even combat medic.

Then I hear my name called, “Johnny Cake, you’re going to the Combat Engineers.” For some reason I am not surprised and I think to myself, thank the Goddesses that it was not the infantry.

I am not fully paying attention to most of the others, but then I hear, “Sweet Corn, Combat Engineers.”

Beside me I hear him whisper, “Well at least I will have some friends there.” I nod my head yes and put a hoof on his shoulder.

Then I hear, “Xerxes, Combat Engineers.” I see his ears go forward and his jaw drop. I know he had been bucking for Officers Candidate School and I really thought he would have been a shoe in for OCS. I mean he really did do better then most of the rest of us overall.

After he finishes reading the orders, Staff Sergeant Round Bale calls out, “Ok, all of you being sent to the engineers meet me in the courtyard in ten minutes,” then he leaves the barracks bay.

Ten minutes later the four of us and a couple of others are standing at attention in the courtyard waiting for him. He approaches us and tells us, “At ease, I just wanted to say, you are all going into my main field of expertise. I know you all feel you dodged a bullet by getting this instead of the infantry, but I will tell you the truth, you didn’t. Cause not only do we have to fight like the infantry, we also have to do our jobs. If you remember nothing else of what I have told you, remember these words when you get out there, Breach or Bypass, especially when you are out in No mare’s land it’s that simple. Any questions?”

I see Xerxes raise a hoof and he asks, “Staff Sergeant, what is it like in the combat engineers? What are our specialties?”

I watch as Round Bale looks at all of us and smiles when he sees me, and tells us, “Combat Engineers are the Jacks of all trades of the army.”

 

 

 
> Before the bombs: Absolutely Everything By Clarke Otterton
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------


For when onto us the question is asked,
In what way is the virtue showing
When duty has become mundane as tasked
Amid the terror of wasteland, scarring, growing?



When autumn trees and cool, crisp skies
Become as browned leaves in a wind blowing
And viewed from afar, the fall easily disguised
Amid the scorn of wasteland, reaping, growing?



When the softness of the moon has yielded her light
To the sorrow of her ponies in death’s cruel sting?
For why then, they ask, do we carry on the fight?
Amid the harvest of wasteland, what does violence bring?



But in reply: We fight for what is right and cling
To the joy in our heart – it is our absolutely everything. 






    It was a fine morning for flying. The ponies in the weather flight had just finished clearing the fog that hung over the meadow that served as the 55th Reconnaissance Squadron’s aerodrome. The sun, which cast a pale autumn glow over remnants of fog and the brown edges of the forest, had crested the east horizon less than an hour prior, but the pegasi of the squadron stirred long before then. Some poured over maps, memorizing the flight paths for their day’s mission, while others prepared camera equipment, loading spools of film into the large metal boxes that would be strapped to the fliers heading out to the front. 
    Lieutenant Ditzy Doo double checked the straps of her camera. She did not need a repeat of last week’s incident. The leather straps dug into the skin under her tunic and chafed the roots of her wings, but the camera was not going anywhere. The morning was chilly, causing her to shiver as little droplets of condensation from the straps found their way under her fur. Her sides, though, were warm thanks to the hot muffins she had stuffed in her saddlebag to munch on during the long day’s work ahead.
    The grey lieutenant ran through her checklists one more time. Camera secured? Check. Route memorized and charts packed? A quick glance at the documents in her saddlebag checked this item off the list. Flares and emergency kit packed? Check. She wrapped her scarf around her neck and lowered her goggles. Then, stretching her wings, she ran forward through the meadow and took flight. The feeling of freedom that accompanied the weightlessness in her hooves as they skidded over the wet grass and up into the air never got old. Ditzy Doo loved flying.
    “Hey, Derpy, watch out!” The shout below startled Ditzy Doo. She looked down at the quickly shrinking pony who was pointing frantically towards a tall maple that was not. Rather, it was growing. Ditzy Doo pointed her nose upwards and climbed hard. Her hooves clipped the top of the tree, causing several of the red leaves to fall prematurely. But the maneuver bled off the pegasus’s remaining energy. Her left wing stalled first, kicking her into a spin towards the ground below. She panicked. Then she remembered the checklist. Right wing out to stop the rotation. Nose down to restore airflow over her wings. Then hard flapping to rebuild up energy. Ditzy Doo recovered with five feet to spare. She glanced back down at the pony who had warned her. He was rolling on the ground, the sound of laughter floating up to the grey pegasus. 
    Ditzy Doo’s ears burned despite the cool wind that buffeted them. She hated her callsign “Derpy”, which she had earned after the numerous accidents and mishaps that occurred during training. Not that it was a bad name or one that offended her, for she had been known by that name and many other nicknames since she was a little filly. She had fought hard to get the callsign “Muffins”, even trying to bride the others with the sweet, steaming treats, but her deployment to the front shortly thereafter solidified the less flattering name. She just wanted to be known for something more than as that “Derpy” pony.
    She had achieved some success in that regard. Her eye condition which often caused her pupils to look in different directions proved to be an advantage for observation work. She could cover separate areas simultaneously or keep one eye down and one up in the sky; depth perception on the ground, though, was another issue. The Lunar Commendation Medal on her chest was a testament to her skill as a recon flier. A year ago, during the dynamic opening campaign of the war, Ditzy Doo spotted the hanging flank of the Zebra 5th Army that had allowed the Equestrians to halt weeks of retreat by exploiting the gap between the advancing legions. This allowed the Equestrians to hold the line before the enemy reached Canterlot. But she had been riding on the success of that day for too long. Her enjoyment as well as the appreciation of others for her work had stagnated just like the movement of the front below.
    The front itself was still five miles ahead. The wasteland between the opposing armies cut through the landscape, a brown scar of mud and debris that only seemed to grow with each day that passed. Ditzy Doo focused her attention on the Equestrian side of the line; she would have plenty of time to look down on the wasteland later.
    The whole of the earth below was bathed in a warm autumn light supplied by the faithful sun. Several villages dotted the area, the clusters of buildings peeking above the colorful mosaic of oranges, reds, and yellows that made up the fall foliage. Ditzy Doo estimated that the running of the leaves back in Ponyville was a little more than a moon away. Surrounding the villages, a patchwork of golden fields and orchards sprawled and beckoned of a bountiful harvest. In the distance, standing guard over the valley, the blue forms of the mountains rose towards the sky.
    Except Ditzy Doo could not see the mountain range that was supposed to be in front of her. A thick black haze obscured them, the product of dirt launched skyward by the hundreds of artillery shells that churned the wasteland and the equally numerous bursts of Zebra anti-air flak, nicknamed “archie” by the fliers, that exploded in front of Ditzy Doo’s flight path. The weapons were new and their operators even newer, so she simply climbed higher to avoid the threat of the terrifying nuisance. She flew threw a cloud then leveled off, the altimeter attached to her foreleg pointing to 6,000 feet. The air was considerably cooler at this altitude. Time for a hot muffin.
    The treat practically melted in her mouth, warming her through. Today’s muffins were chocolate chip. Ditzy Doo had studied the weather reports carefully; she knew it was going to be a chilly day in the sky and loved just how well the melted chocolate retained heat. Blueberries worked well, too, but were getting harder to find with the war. 
    Ditzy Doo banked to the right and started her ingress route over the village of Antares. Several buildings along the edge were crumbled from stray shells, but the tall spire of town hall had survived unscathed. The wasteland just beyond the village was quiet save for the constant bursts of archie trying, as he always did, to shoot down the annoying Equestrian fliers. A few ponies waved at the grey pegasus from their trenches, the brightly colored specks of hooves and faces flashing briefly before disappearing amid the homogenous texture of khaki and mud. Within minutes she was past the Equestrian lines and flying towards a prominent ridge that ran for several miles between the Equestrian and Zebra sides of the wasteland. A large crater, created by the detonation of a mine in last moon’s offensive, broke the otherwise smooth outline of the ridge. The crater and fierce fighting that had raged for control of it earned the ridge its nickname among the ponies – Shattered Hoof Ridge. 
    Lining her right wing up with the ridge, Ditzy Doo took the camera’s trigger in her mouth and started her photographing route. She noted a new battery of Zebra howitzers dug in at the edge of a wood. They would be on the list of targets for the Equestrian artillery tomorrow.
    Three smudges appeared in the sky above Ditzy Doo. She dismissed them as friendly pegasi flying the high altitude patrol. They were probably from the 27th Skyguard Squadron whose aerodrome was only a mile from the 55th. Ditzy Doo had visited their mess last week while bringing a basket of muffins to an old friend from Ponyville. Besides, zebras could not fly. There were rumors, though, that the zebras had started hiring griffon mercenaries to counter Equestrian air superiority, but they were just rumors. No pony had sighted anything other than pegasi and observation balloons amid the clouds.
      Several hours passed with Ditzy Doo flying along the ridge, doubling further back into the rear areas to photograph any new dumps of supplies or fresh paths of worn earth that would indicate a change in the usual pattern of life for the Zebra legion below. Such a change would mean that a new offensive was being planned in this sector. But Ditzy Doo saw no signs of such excitement as she clicked through her film. All was quiet on the front. 
    Which meant it was the perfect time for a nap. Ditzy Doo snapped the last picture on her spool of film then spotted a soft cloud to set herself down on. Her wings ached and protested as she stretched them out, but it was a feeling, just like so many things about the war, that she had grown used to. She undid her saddlebag and let the muffins slide out onto the cloud. She picked one up and bit down; it was no longer hot but at least still edible. She closed her eyes and sprawled on the cloud while reaching for another muffin with her muzzle. Her jaws bit down on empty air. The cloud shook, followed by a strong current of wind. Ditzy Doo snapped her eyes open.
    The black shapes circled the cloud, peeling in to dash away bits of the grey pegasus’s platform. Ditzy Doo recognized them but did not want to believe it. Griffons, each armed with what she assumed was a machine gun. Of course she was the one to stumble onto them first. She always found trouble for herself where no pony else could.
    Ditzy Doo jumped out of the cloud, pointing her nose down to gain as much speed as she could. The griffons gave chase. Bullets whizzed past, buffeting the air around her wings. Ditzy Doo inverted herself then pulled up sharply in a half loop and rolled level, the sudden split-s maneuver forcing the lead pursuer to overshoot but leaving the pegasus face to face with the second. She ducked under the griffon and started to bank away from the third and fourth griffons. She was running out of tricks.
    A flurry of bullets knocked out the griffon Ditzy Doo had forced to overshoot. The flight of pegasi from earlier had come to help. Two pegasi pounced on the tails of the farthest two griffons, causing them to go on the defensive. Ditzy Doo recognized the blue coat and rainbow mane of the third pegasus whose streamer indicated she was the flight leader. She waved, but Rainbow Dash shook her head and pointed behind Ditzy Doo. A sharp pain in her left wing reminded Ditzy Doo that there was still one last griffon, and he was on her tail.
    The bullet had only just struck the outer edge of the wing, but the pain was enough to startle Ditzy Doo and break her concentration. She stalled and entered a flat spin towards the wasteland below. The horizon wobbled in her field of view at a dizzying pace. She tried the checklist. Nothing. The ground was getting closer. She tried again, pushing her whole body into stopping the rotation. Success. She stretched her wings and soared back into the sky to regain altitude. 
    Rainbow Dash tussled with the remaining griffon, the two performing quick reversals that interweaved their flight paths in an attempt to get a clear shot at the other. Rainbow’s turns were just a little bit better than her opponent, allowing her to line up a quick burst on his tail. The griffon crumbled and fell straight down into the wasteland below. Rainbow clinched her hoof in victory then quickly cleared the expression; she pointed in the direction of home and saluted towards Ditzy Doo, who saluted back with a toothy grin which quickly faded as soon as she pointed her nose homeward. She had wanted excitement, but this is not what she meant.
    Ditzy Doo’s heart raced; she blamed it on her vigorous flapping and too many muffins over the last few moons. She could not be scared, because brave pegasi, just like Rainbow Dash, did not get scared. She focused her attention ahead, making out the jagged scars of the Equestrian lines two miles distant. She let herself daydream about the hot bath she would take when she got back to the aerodrome. Then the sky turned black.
    The concussive wind of a shell from archie ripped through every feather on Ditzy Doo’s wings. Her vision came back a half second later, but her ears only registered an insistent ringing which was somehow more monotonous than the sound of whipping wind. The explosion had been close and had cost the pegasus several hundred feet in altitude. But she was still flying, albeit through black clouds of hot shrapnel and bursts of fire. Ditzy Doo tried to zig-zag and gain altitude, but every boom enthralled her and foiled the effort. The storm of flak raged on around her, unrelenting in its violence. Ditzy Doo prayed, oh Celestia, preserve her. She would bake her muffins, anything to escape the certain death that had replaced the sky.
    The blue clearing ahead could not have come sooner. Ditzy Doo dashed forward, finally safe on the Equestrian side. She took her last muffin out of her saddlebag and tossed it towards the now setting sun as a fulfillment of her promise. The projectile arched upwards then succumbed to gravity, tumbling into the amber landscape below until it disappeared among the lengthening shadows.
The familiarity of the ground below her hooves helped to ease Ditzy Doo. She focused on flying the approach into her squadron’s aerodrome. Right turn thirty degrees at the village with the bright pink house. Start descending over the hill with the funny looking tree. Left turn at the stream, then line up with the sunken road to enter the aerodrome’s landing pattern. Except Ditzy Doo could not see her last landmarks. The sun was nearly below the horizon, rapidly cooling the land, which in turn created large patches of fog that seeped through the forests and obscured the meadows. Ditzy Doo paused, then circled for several minutes hoping either the weather flight would clear the fog, or a landmark would peek through the growing mist to give her some bearing. The latter occurred first, the hangars of the aerodrome appearing briefly amid the blanket of grey. 
Ditzy Doo pointed herself at where the hangar had been and started to descend. 1,000 feet. She was in the fog now, her vision nothing more than a blank, constant grey. 500 feet. Ditzy Doo strained her eyes, trying to make out the hangars or at least land below. 400 feet. Still nothing. 300 feet. She could feel the wind brushing against her, but her eyes told her she was not moving any closer. 200 feet. She was 100 feet from her minimum abort altitude. The fog only got thicker. 100 feet. Time to go around and try again. Then she saw the dark shape of a hangar through the fog. She breathed a sigh of relief. It was followed by a sickly crashing sound one second later.
The hangar came tumbling down, its support post sheared by the impact. Ditzy Doo wrestled herself out of the tangle of canvas. Her mind was racing too fast to focus on aligning her eyes, so she only saw half of the ponies staring at her. The other eye wandered on the dented remains of her camera. Not again.
“Lieutenant Derpy, report to the office once you have, err, extracted yourself.” The stern yet piercing voice was that of Ditzy Doo’s flight commander. She knew what was coming. She pulled her hooves free of the canvas and inspected the camera again. The lens was shattered but the film canister was still intact, giving Ditzy Doo a slight feeling of victory that some good would come out of her trip over the wasteland today.
The squadron office was a few steps away from the wrecked hangar. Ditzy Doo brushed some dirt off her tunic and straightened the goggles on her cap. She knocked once on the door. “Enter,” came the deep voice of the squadron commander. Ditzy Doo gulped.
She marched into the little office, squaring her corners to approach the desk on the far end of the room. She saluted the two ponies and said, “Lieutenant Ditzy Doo, reporting as ordered, sir.”
“Eyes forward when you address the major, lieutenant,” scolded the flight commander.
“They are forward, ma’am,” Ditzy Doo replied. She was honestly doing her best.
“Never mind that, captain,” said the major. “Lieutenant, let’s start with your mission report. At least we can get something even though your photos are destroyed. Again.”
“Actually, sir, the film is still good.” Ditzy Doo placed the canister on the major’s desk. He looked surprised. “There are some new batteries that I listed on the map. But I ran into some griffins.” Ditzy Doo looked down.
“That’s preposterous,” exclaimed the captain. “You, of all the ponies we have out flying today, are the only one to report these rumored griffons? I supposed one of them made you crash into our hangar, too?” Ditzy Doo let her head hang lower.
“I will send a message down to the 27th to confirm your sighting, lieutenant,” the major stated. “But your captain is right, Derpy. You may have distinguished yourself during the Summer Campaign, but your record here is hardly commendable. Three major accidents and dozens of incidents in the last three moons. This is the second camera you’ve lost in a week.” He sighed. “Unfortunately, I don’t have room for substandard performers in my squadron.”
“I understand, sir. I’m doing my best, honest,” Ditzy Doo mumbled. She felt like her head would touch the floor any moment.
The major pushed a piece of paper across his desk. “This is an order to transfer you to another unit. The 2nd Air Mobility Squadron. I haven’t signed it yet.”
“If I had my way, you’d be out of my air force tonight!” interrupted the captain. The major shot a hot glance at her, then focused his gaze on Ditzy Doo.
 “However, we need everypony to do their part. Maybe this squadron isn’t for you. Either you shape up, Derpy, or you’ll be shipped out. Dismissed.”
 Ditzy Doo snapped to attention then turned about to exit the office. She pulled her goggles down once she stepped through the door. She could not see well out of them in the darkness of night, but neither could anypony else see in. She had a substantial collection of moisture by the time she reached the secluded pond just beyond the aerodrome’s meadow. She took the goggles off and sat down on her haunches at the pond’s edge, allowing the tears to flow naturally like the water lapping at her hooves.
The moon had fully risen in the crisp night sky, its yellow luminance rippling against the surface of the pond. Ditzy Doo tossed a rock, distorting the reflection. She wondered why she could not escape under the shadow of “Derpy”. Her heart sank because maybe, perhaps, that pony really was who she was. She cried because each day was worse than the last, a mundane nightmare that only grew more terrifying, and she was not contributing anything to make it stop. No amount of muffins could fortify her against another trip through the flak. She shivered.
The sweet chirping of a warbler floated along with the mist over the pond. Ditzy Doo wiped the tears from her eyes and looked up. The reflection of the moon had righted itself. The soft light bended around the trees, casting shafts in the mist that held back the deep shadows within. Ditzy Doo knew she had to be better. She knew she had to fight, to do her part to end the war. And she knew she was not happy here. She had to find her place, a place that satisfied her like her muffins. 
Ditzy Doo considered this for several hours, running the same questions through her mind over and over. She watched the moon trace through the sky and the stars rotate between thin wisps of cloud. Then, the exhaustion of the day catching her, she succumbed to the peace of sleep.


---


    A soft chorus of birds woke Ditzy Doo. Her body ached, every muscle protesting her struggle to stir herself. She shook off the thin layer of dew on her coat that had formed from the morning’s coolness. From the muted colors of the trees and the pale grayness of the sky Ditzy Doo assumed the sunrise was imminent. The distant bugle from the aerodrome confirmed her assumption. 
    Ditzy Doo walked away from the pond and back into the aerodrome. The whole meadow was stirring with activity, as usual. Ponies looked over maps, ponies worked on camera equipment, ponies did their duty. Same mission, different day. Except for the grey pegasus. Today was not just a different day – it was a different mission, too. 
    She knocked once on the office door. She did not wait for the deep voice to invite her in.
    “Lieutenant Derpy, good morning. You’re looking … focused today,” the major said, turning around from a wall-mounted chart as Ditzy Doo marched in, her eyes directed straight ahead. 
    “Yes, sir. I’ve made a decision about yesterday. I want to transfer.” The major gestured to the seats by his desk, his expression becoming serious.
    “Derpy, are you sure? I was willing to give you a little more of an opportunity to improve. Your flight commander may be blind to it, but I see a certain potential within you, hence the second chance.”
    “I am sure, sir. I realized yesterday that I’m not happy here. I think that my potential is better elsewhere.” The major frowned, then sighed.
    “Very well, I will sign the order.” He stuck out his hoof, which Ditzy Doo stared at cross-eyed before shaking her eyes straight and accepting the gesture. “You have a talent for recon work, I can’t deny that, Derpy. But maybe you have another talent better served elsewhere.”
    “I have just one question, sir,” Ditzy Doo asked.
    “What is that?”
    “What does an air mobility squadron do exactly?” The major hesitated then saw the sincerely puzzled look on Ditzy Doo’s face.
    “They transport supplies for the military’s operations. Food for the kitchens, ammunition for the guns, letters from home for the soldiers. You could say they do absolutely everything. An army is nothing without its supply line, after all.” Ditzy Doo smiled. She liked the sound of that. But she had one more question.
    “Do you think they have muffins?” The major pondered the question. He smiled warmly to answer.
    “No. But they will now.”
> Before the Bombs: F is for Fade Away By Vic the Tricky Unicorn
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------


"You know where kisses melt like lemon drops 
Way above the chimney tops
Is where you'll find me..."






"So... did you tell them?"

The initial happiness I'd felt upon meeting again began to fade at the question. She didn't turn to look me in the eye, only leaning against me with one of her gentle wings wrapped around my back as we sat in the wagon together. I took a deep breath, enjoying the other mare's soft presence as I rested my head against her shoulder, following her gaze out the windshield of her family wagon. I nuzzled her cheek in silence, while larger-than-life advertisements faded in and out of the large screen beyond the rows of other wagons. We were entertained by flirtatious mares in two-pieces, urging us to 'quench our thirst with Sparkle-Cola', primly dressed Canterlot stallions claiming, 'there's a big delight in every bite of Fancy Buck Snack Cakes', foals munching down on boxes of cereal, while yelling, 'Sugar Apple Bombs are a blast!' with their mouths full, and the rest of the usual poster and billboard ads we'd see along any city, small town, road or business throughout Equestria. I enjoyed these moments with her... Just a quiet night at the drive-in. Just us...

I finally shook my head against her soft blue fur and sighed. "...no." A tiny, sad smile appeared on my muzzle. "Did you?"

She lightly scoffed before pulling me closer with her wing. "No... just told them I was meeting you at the diner for a milkshake or something... with 'friends'." Her wingtips stretched out beside us to make air-quotes before returning them to our embrace. She finally turned her head to look at me, a hint of regret in her eyes as she sighed. "You know we're gonna have to tell them eventually, right?"

I met her gaze, my forehoof brushing her gorgeous arctic mane away from her face as I shared my own trepidation with her. "...what if they forbid it? We... we'd never be able to see each other again."

She shook her head, her eyes clenching tight at the thought, before suddenly throwing her forelegs around me, and hugged me as if it'd be our last embrace. "That's not gonna happen, Honey Silk!" She sniffled.

I shuddered as I hugged her back, tightly, feeling my heart ache right alongside hers at the possibility. "I-I don't know... I'm just... I'm scared, Crystal. My parents, they... they don't-... N-not to mention the law against-..."

My blubbering was suddenly cut short by the feeling of her hoof against my lips. I blinked as she rested her forehead against mine, allowing me full view of those beautiful ice-blue eyes of hers. "Doesn't matter..." She said, soft yet determined as she dried her eyes with a wingtip. "You're the only pony in this whole world I wanna be with, Silky." Her smile began to grow with a giggle, "Besides, with the war and everything going on, I guess our parents won't be too focused on what we're doing together anyway, right? For all they know, we're just a couple of best friends hanging out at the-... eep!"

I had to keep myself from smiling at the sound of her surprised squeak, as I suddenly pressed my lips to hers and kissed her. She had me at 'only pony in this whole world'. I pulled her close like she did with me, only I had to use my earth pony hooves to hug her waist instead of wings. I could feel the spur of our heartbeats flutter in chorus through our chests, as her wings flared against the seat behind her. It only took a moment for her initial shock to fade, before she melted into the lip-lock herself, gently resting a hoof on my chest as the other hooked behind my head. 

I wasn't sure how long we kissed. With the little time we've had alone, ever since we became more... 'intimate' friends, it was never very often. Which made every moment of the kiss that much more special. 

Our lips were soft and tender, yet the kiss itself was electrifying, our chorus of soft sighs telling me that she was just as breathless as I was. Finally, after what felt like an eternity that could never last as long as we'd like, the kiss broke, leaving both of us out of breath as we held each other in our hooves. My cheeks burned as I panted, eventually giving her a goofy smile while lovingly clutching her hoof to my chest "I lov-..."

I was never able to finish those three small, yet very important words, before the the sound of 'Funky Fanfare' suddenly blasted through the speakers set up in our wagon. "Oh! Looks like the movie's starting!" Crystal said as she excitingly turned towards the screen, clapping her hooves together.

I blinked in surprise, partly from how quick she was able to recover from the kiss... -oh, GOSH that kiss~... and partly due to the light smack aside my head, delivered from her very... very stiff wing when she turned. Ooooh, she's gonna have to do better than that to hide that blissful flutter in her breath. 

"Oh!" I gasped as I slapped my face with a forehoof. "I forgot to buy snacks! I was gonna get some popcorn for us to share. I could probably still make it before I miss anything." I said as I opened the door. "Do you want a Sparkle-Cola or something?"

"Thanks, but... I think I'm good." She said, before turning to me with a blush. "Your uh... your tongue was pretty wet, so..."

That admission could have turned my pink coat crimson, and I would have been completely helpless to hide it. Regardless of the shade of red I had turned however, I made sure to give her one last loving smile before I stepped out into the crisp evening air and closed the wagon door behind me. I was about to turn towards the concession stand when I was remined of what had made us so upset earlier. 'Clearsky Family Delivery Company' was boldly printed across the door to her skywagon. I stared at it for a moment, before turning away with a sigh. It wasn't that I didn't like her family, or that her family disliked me... or even my family and her for that matter... They were good ponies. Good ponies who... would never approve of Crystal and I.

Crystal may think she has a plan, but... I don't think we'll ever be able to confess about our love, if we want to stay together... 

I was able to snap myself out of my gloomy thoughts long enough to look up at a poster next to the double doors of the concession stand. I was thankful at first, anything to help me get my mind off of our problem. That was until I realized what poster I was actually looking at. 

It was a cheerful picture of a typical Equestrian family, a mare, a stallion, and a couple of foals... only this family wasn't out enjoying the sunshine and rainbows of the Equestria I grew up in, rather smiling with blissful ignorance in an underground facility, while balefire bombs exploded in the background above them. 'It's never too late!' A rather plain looking stallion with a blond wavy mane seemed to reassure me, grinning as if he were actually enjoying the destructive mushroom clouds looming behind him. 'Stable-Tec is here for you. Reserve your spot today, and prepare for the future!' And yet, another poster hung on the opposite side, though I was skeptical to it being propaganda as much as it was a movie poster for some slasher flick. It was the silhouette of a zebra with glowing eyes, grinning like a psychopath as a town burned to the ground behind him. 'Your home is next' was printed in monster-green font above him. 'Keep alert. Protect your families'.

Both posters were yet another reminder of the world we lived in. Everypony was scared out of their gourds at the possibility of another zebra attack. I was only a foal when the attack on Littlehorn happened. It seemed like so long ago, yet the shock, sadness and fear on everypony's faces when it happened, still played as fresh as the newsreels in my mind. But, that was the beginning of the war. Now... with balefire bombs and megaspells... It was enough for my dad to take us to Sweet Apple Acers to sign our whole family up at our local Stable in Ponyville. Stable 2, I think is the number... Not that we'd ever think we'd have to use it. At least, everypony but dad... He's always been a little more worried about it than the rest of us. And sure, we were worried, but... It's better not to think about it... like I was doing right now.

"C'mon Honey Silk, snap out of it..." I growled to myself as I tried shaking the thought out of my head. "It's ridiculous to think it'd ever happen. Nopony... o-or zebra, is that crazy, right?" I feebly reassured myself before finally trotting passed the posters toward the door. 

I hardly noticed the other pony behind me, no doubt buying some last-minute snacks as well, as he too approached the door. I was a polite pony, so I thought I'd hold the door open for him since I'd gotten there first, but when my hoof touched the door-handle...

"Ow!" I yelped as the strange... cloaked... pony, slammed his forehoof on top of mine as if trying to open the door for himself. Whatever was under his hoof was rather... pointy, pricking me enough to draw a drop of blood from my hoof, as the door flung open in front of us. He trotted inside without hesitation, before disappearing behind the next corner. I get that it was probably an accident, but he didn't even apologize! "Jerk..." I hissed under my breath as I stopped to rub my forehoof with the other. It almost felt as if a... bee stung me.

I was so busy trying to rub and -occasionally shake- the pain out of my hoof, that I hardly noticed a curious sound building from outside. I paused as the sound resonated, perking my ears to listen. It sounded like some kind of siren, beginning to wail, slowly cranking up to a shriek, before falling off and rising again. I shrugged it off at first, thinking it was coming from the movie. Which means, you better hurry before you miss anything good, Silk! 

I stood back up, about to trot over to the popcorn machine, when... "W-woah..." My hooves suddenly wobbled under my weight. I didn't quite fall, but my legs stumbled as everything started to spin around me. I started to feel... dizzy. I quickly shook my head to try and clear my daze, but that almost made me want to vomit. 

Oh no... the only time Crystal and I can spend time together, and I get sick!? Maybe I'm... just a little tired. But, why did I feel tired!? N-no! I... I wanted to be with Crystal tonight, and-...

The siren outside began to grow louder, while my thoughts began to grow hazier. I felt a migraine coming on as I tried to massage my temples with my hooves. That... that's not from the movie. That's coming from Ponyville! It sounded like the town fire-whistle. But... how could I hear it from all the way out of town? Is... is there a fire? 

O-oh no! My parents!

I stood back up, and bolted back out the door into the drive-in lot as quick as I could. I don't care how dizzy I felt, or how many times I nearly fell on my face. 

That's when everything began to happen at an accelerating, confusing pace...

The siren became even louder, blaring from every direction now, not just from Ponyville. It was so loud, it felt as if all of reality were on high alert for an incoming attack! Like a... like an air raid, or a...

Or a...

The sky suddenly started to get brighter. The... sun was rising? No... that's not right. It couldn't have been the sun, it was night! And the sun does NOT rise in the west! No, it wasn't the sun... but fire. Poisonous green fire on the horizon! I could hardly hear it through the ear-splitting alarm, but the slightest sound of what I could only describe as thunder reached my ears, rumbling the ground below me like a tiny tremor. I was so paralyzed, that I couldn't even fathom the slightest possibility of what was happening. The ponies around me from the other wagons began to panic, some diving away as quick as they could, while a few pegasi pulled skywagons into the clouds above. Others simply galloped away and ran for their lives. But from what!? It was something bad, wasn't it?! Was it the zebras? Were they attacking? Burning down some helpless village!?

I was forgetting something... something important... Oh, GODDESSES! My head is killing me! What... what's happening?! I wish... I wish I had Crystal here to...

My eyes widened. "CRYSTAL!!!" 

The sky suddenly lit up, as if Celestia herself had ripped the sun from the horizon. No... It was faster than that. Like turning on a giant lightbulb, going from a pleasant evening to a nightmarish noon with the flip of switch. That was only seconds before I heard the blast that had caused it. It shook me, knocking me to the ground as my entire reality violently jolted. What used to be a small tremor, became an earthquake. The air became warm... hot even, like somepony had just thrown me inside an oven. It wasn't just fire... these were... these were balefire bombs!!! Oh goddesses, this can't be happening!!!

"C-Crystal!" I screamed for her again, trying to ignore the intense heat as I forced my hooves to move, rushing over to the Clearsky skywagon before reaching for the door handle. "Crystal! Crys- YOW!!!" I shrieked in pain as the searing hot metal burned my hoof. My lip quivered from the pain, but more so from panic as I began banging on the window with my forehooves. "Crystal! Crystal! We-... We've gotta go! It-... Oh, goddesses, it burns!" The glass almost felt as if it were molten as I continued my painful assault on her wagon, desperately trying to get to the mare I loved. "Crystal! Please!!!"

"...Honey Silk!"

I gasped, hearing her voice from outside the wagon. I quickly turned, spinning in place as I looked for her. "Crystal!?" My coat was beginning to feel as if it were on fire. But I didn't care... I had to find her!

"Honey Silk! Where are you!? Honey Silk..!" 

Her voice was growing distant. I began to cry, but my tears could only turn to vapor. "Crystal! I'm here, Crystal! I'm... I'm here!" It was so hot. There was so much fire... and my head. S-something... something was in my head! The world around me began to blur to a nebula of green and orange flames. Eventually, my legs could take no more as I collapsed on top of the burning asphalt. I shuddered, trying to crawl towards her voice, but I had no idea what direction was which anymore. "Crys-... Crysta-..." My voice struggled, no longer finding the strength to yell anymore as I continued to hear the mare's desperate cries for me, simply fading into the chaos until her voice was unrecognizable to me. I could only try calling out one last time... one last time to finally tell her. "Crystal... I... I l-love... y-y..."

The world finally fell silent. No longer burning... but cold. So... very... cold...





"AAAAAAHHHHH!!!" I shrieked as my head shot up from my pillow. My heart was beating so fast, it felt like it was going to burst through my chest. Oh goddesses... that was the worst nightmare I've ever had! I gasped for breath, my eyes blinking both sleep and tears away, as I wiped a string of drool from my mouth and rolled onto my back. 

It just felt so real! I made sure to check I still had all four hooves and legs, one tail, one head, two eyes and ears. My mane and tail? Still a creamy white and orange. No burns either. Yeah... it was just a dream. Thank Celestia... 

I was just about to catch my breath, when a curious sound made my ears flicker. They perked, letting me catch a cheerful, charismatic stallion's voice over soothing background music, playing from a nearby speaker. "Good morning, everypony~" He said, his voice warped by the tinny sound of a radio. "Looks like we're instore for another beautiful and serene day in paradise..."

I gave gloomy sigh as I did my best to get out of bed... but, just couldn't bring myself to do it this time. It's been years since it happened... but, I still dreamt about it. This was the first time in... I don't even know how long since the last nightmare. All the different ways... all the terrible ways that it could have happened. Thankfully, I didn't get as many these days, but that just means the ones I do get are that much more terrifyingly unpredictable. B-but... but, this time... I'd dreamt of her...

"Oh, Crystal..." My voice shuddered as the memory of her returned, and I felt the tension in my chest finally snap. I quietly began to sob as I slammed by face into my forehooves.

I never got to say goodbye...

"Honey Silk!" The familiar voice of my shift supervisor came through my door from the hallway. "You up, yet!? Don't want to miss your shift in Maintenance today! We wouldn't want the Overmare to go back on her word for tonight's performance! Drinks are on the stable!" 

I struggled to keep my crying from being heard as I wiped my nose with a sniffle. "Yeah... I-I'm up! Heh... wouldn't miss that for the world!" I yelled back, faking the enthusiasm for tonight as much as I could. "Just give me a minute!" 

I quietly resumed my sobs after I was sure I heard him trot away... though I kept them under control this time. I certainly didn't need anypony hearing me cry like a filly... 

My gaze had slowly shifted to the nightstand next to my bed, and the drawer where I kept a few of the things I felt I didn't really need after the bombs fell that day. Things that I-... I slowly began to forget about. 

W-why was I forgetting!? I... I couldn't remember... 

I hesitantly opened the drawer with a hoof, and pulled out a dusty picture frame. Tears streamed down my cheeks as I blew the dust off to reveal two innocent and happy mares, holding each other in their forehooves with blissful grins across their faces. I... couldn't even remember when the grainy picture was taken, or what we were even doing at the time. But, there was no denying that Crystal and I were the happiest when we were together. And that was something I never wanted to forget... Never! B-but... but there's just something in my head that... i-it's forcing me to forget! I... I feel like I've forgotten so many things! Like my-- [REDACTED]

The stable kept us safe. Everypony had hopes of course, but... We all knew deep down that we're going to be here for the rest of our lives. Even if what I hoped was true, that the pegasi protected her from the fire, and that she's out there somewhere... I knew that I was never going to see her again either way. I've thought about her from time to time, but... like I said, it's been years and most ponies who dwell on the past down here end up going crazy. And she... I knew she wouldn't want me to do that. She'd want me to move on. And, I have... I've actually already met somepony. And... and she's really nice! She would have liked her, I think...

Something screamed in my head to resist the memory... but I fought it. I felt myself reach out and touch my hoof against Crystal's face. I closed my eyes and smiled, letting the tears fall as I imagined her soft wings caressing me in an embrace I haven't had in a long time. "Crystal..." I sniffled again. 

I... I wish I could have shared this life with her... It's a good life, I guess, especially given the circumstances, but... the only pony in this whole world I wanna be with isn't here with me. 

I sighed, before opening my teary eyes again. "I hope, wherever you are Crystal Clearsky, that you'll be waiting for me when I make it over the rainbow." 

I decided to leave the frame standing on my nightstand instead of putting it back in my drawer. I never wanted to forget her... Remembering our time together hurt, like a big hole inside you where you knew something special was supposed to go... Maybe you can never fill it like it was, but it couldn't hurt to have others help you try to live without it. That way... I don't have to forget. I dried my eyes with a hoof and got dressed for my shift, buckling my PipBuck on above my left forehoof. 

I couldn't help but give the picture one last look, meeting the mare's beautiful eyes again "I love you." I smiled, heart broken... but happy to remember her once more, before turning towards the door to my room. Finally, after all these years, I was able to finish those three small, yet very important words. As I was trotting out of my room, I could have sworn I heard a voice from the radio that wasn't that of the cheery stallion's.

"...I love you too, Silky..."

I looked back at it, twisting my ears in surprise, only to hear a dull static rolling through its speakers. I shook my head with a sigh. Looks like I'll need to call somepony up from my department to fix my radio again... I wonder why it keeps acting up? I closed the door and trotted down the hall to start another shift... another day in the stable, while leaving the radio's frequency to send its final gloomy message to an empty room.

"...Over the Rainbow... I'll see you there, Honey Silk... I promise..."
> Zebra: U is for Unseen By Salted Pingas
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------



A mature version of this chapter is available off-site. Contact Salted Pingas for access. Otherwise, enjoy!



The bar room at the hotel across the street from O’Mare International was uncrowded this time of night; the only occupants were a hoofull of ponies looking for a quick drink or greasy meal between red eye flights. Sweetie Belle’s voice serenaded the scene from a little radio behind the bar, the low volume stealing away the meaning of the words but not the sweet tone they carried.

Only a single stool was occupied at the bar and the occupant’s hind legs swung slowly as his golden eyes scrolled listlessly over a menu. A dark gray wing tilted a bottle of buckweiser back against his lips as he took another swig.

“Be with you in a minute,” the barkeep spoke up as a pegasus mare passed through the doors. She flashed him a polite smile as he went back to sweeping, then surveyed the room briefly before trotting over to a table near the back.

One of her pale blue wings dipped into her purse, the edge of a polaroid peeking past the opening. Her rosy eyes darted from the picture to the ponies in the room, settling on the lone buck at the bar. The mare closed up her purse, looking suddenly surprised as she approached him.

“Thunderlane?” Thunderlane gave a quick jolt at the mare’s familiar voice, turning quickly in his seat with widening eyes.

“Cloudchaser?” Thunderlane was equally surprised, a happy grin spreading across his lips, “What are the odds?!”

“Good enough, it would seem,” Cloudchaser smiled back as she took the stool next to him, “How long has it been now since we last met?”

“Far too long by any standard,” Thunderlane grinned, turning slightly atop his stool to face her, “How have you been?”

“I’ve been doing well,” Cloudchaser replied, giving her mane a quick flick, “Plenty of work to do back home, I’ve been keeping busy.”

“And how is Ponyville doing these days?” Thunderlane asked with an edge of curiosity, “I keep meaning to stop by there but with the war on, I…” he trailed off for a moment, but started back up with a glimmer in his eye, “I heard Stable-Tec’s building a Stable at Sweet Apple Acres.”

Cloudchaser nodded with a small frown, “Construction’s caused a lot of noise complaints, folks will be happy when it’s finally over and done with.”

“Any talk of resident discounts?” Cloudchaser raised a brow and Thunderlane added, “For tickets into the stable.”

“Haven’t really looked into it,” Cloudchaser gave a shrug, “Would you really want to spend the rest of your life stuck underground? Breathing the same stale air and unable to see the sky?”

“If it means the survival of future generations, yeah.” Thunderlane frowned at her somewhat flippant tone on the matter, “I’ve got tickets for ninety-eight for me, Rumble, and our parents. Stable-Tec’s building it specifically for pegasi, supposed to have more vertical space than the standard designs. You should seriously look into it.”

“You don’t think it’ll really get that bad with the Zebras, do you?” Cloudchaser didn’t seem convinced.

“I certainly hope not,” Thunderlane shook his head, “I like to think of those tickets as insurance. Hopefully I’ll never need to use them, but if things really do get as bad as they say…” He took another swig from his beer.

“So what have you been up to lately?” Cloudchaser brushed at her mane with a hoof.

Thunderlane brightened at the change of subject, his chest puffing out in a sudden display of pride.

“I’m practically running the fifthteenth sky engineering regiment now,” Thunderlane beamed, “Colonel Rider’s well past retirement age and I suspect he’ll be retiring soon. He’s already passed most of the workload onto Commander Glider and me, and there’s yet to be talk of a replacement. What that probably means is a promotion in my near future,” he smiled, “If I play my cards right, I’ll be 2IC to Colonel Glider.”

“2IC?” Cloudchaser gave him another raised brow.

“Sorry, military lingo. Second in command,” Thunderlane explained, “I’m currently the Major in charge of the fifteenth, third in command. Commander Night Glider is the current 2IC, but if she’s made a Colonel that means I’ll probably be made Commander to cover her old spot.”

“Wow, well I hope that works out for you,” Cloudchaser’s tone lightened with another small smile, “You’ve come a long way from those humble roots in Ponyville.”

“Haven’t we all. And thanks,” Thunderlane took another swig.

“So what brings you to O’Mare?” Cloudchaser inquired, “Coming home for the holidays? Will I be seeing more of you in Ponyville?”

“Secret mission,” he grinned back, his tone earning a giggle from Cloudchaser, “Kidding, of course. You’ll like this, though: Rainbow Dash, the Ministry Mare herself, invited me out to her hub in Cloudsdale. She said she had a job for me, if I was interested.”

“Wow,” both of Cloudchaser’s brows rose at that, “Any idea what it is?”

“Not a clue,” Thunderlane admitted, he grabbed his drink again, but didn’t bring it to his lips this time. Cloudchaser remained quiet as Thunderlane hesitated a moment before speaking, “I’m probably going to turn it down, though.”

“What, without even hearing her out?”

“I mean...shoot, I remember her from back before all this when she was just Ponyville’s weather team leader, but now?” Thunderlane frowned at his bottle, swirling the contents slowly in front of him, “Some of...some of the things I hear about her Ministry?” He turned to Cloudchaser as he continued, “I’ll hear her out, I owe her that at the very least...but I think I’d rather stick with the sky engineers. Help win this war my own way.”

“Well there’s something to toast to!” Cloudchaser decided after a thoughtful moment, her face brightening again.

“What’s that?” now it was Thunderlane who raised a querious brow.

“Barkeep! Get me a drink: whiskey, neat,” Cloudchaser ordered, the pair of pegasi watching as the barkeep poured her drink. Cloudchaser lifted her short glass, “To winning this war our own ways.”

“Cheers.” 

Their glasses clinked softly as they drank to the toast.

“So what are you up to right now?” Cloudchaser gave her whiskey another quick sip, “Got a flight later tonight to get you to Cloudsdale?”

“No,” Thunderlane grumbled, a sudden scowl wrinkling his snout, “I was supposed to be on the flight to Cloudsdale that left at twenty-two...or, sorry, Ten o’clock,” he added at her raised brow, earning a nod.

“Miss your flight?” Cloudchaser posed the question.

“No, apparently somepony tossed my bags on the wrong cart. They got sent all the way down to fucking Los Pegasus, can you believe that!?” Thunderlane grumbled, glaring into his drink, “I’d be fine, except my uniform and tickets were in there, so now I’m stuck here until the early morning when the courier they sent gets my luggage back here to O’Mare.” He took another somewhat angry swig, “Ponies here were kind enough to apologize and fully reimburse me for my lost flight, plus give me a free night’s stay here,” he gestured to the hotel, “so I suppose I can’t really complain all that much.”

“Well some good came of it,” Cloudchaser spoke up, earning Thunderlane’s inquiring gaze, “If you hadn’t missed your flight we’d never have been able to catch up.”

“You’ve got me there.” Thunderlane admitted, finishing off his buckweiser with a final gulp. He waved the barkeep over, giving his empty bottle a little wiggle.

“Another one?” The barkeep’s horn lit as he trotted over.

“Why don’t you let me treat you to something,” Cloudchaser cut in as she watched the empty bottle float behind the bar’s counter.

“Oh, I couldn’t...” Thunderlane began.

“Oh, c’mon, when are we gonna get to do something like this again?” Cloudchaser was already eyeing the bottles behind the bar, her eyes lighting up as she spotted her prize.

“Barkeep, get me a couple shots of Applejack whiskey,” she smiled as she started counting out bits, “Leave the bottle.”


* * * * *


“So then...so then he said: ‘Mustard!? That’s s’pposed to go on pancakes!’” 

Cloudchaser burst out laughing, a wing slamming on the bar and rattling their glasses much to the barkeep’s silent displeasure.

“And before you ask, no,” Thunderlane punctuated the word with a lateral wing swipe, “Mustard does not go good on pancakes.”

Cloudchaser was still snorting quietly beside him as he took another shot, letting out a hiss as it burned down his throat. He reached out with a wing to pour himself another, but found Cloudchaser’s wing already gripping the bottle.

“Sorry, go ahead,” Thunderlane pulled his wing back, watching as the mare poured them both another shot.

“No reason to apologize,” Cloudchaser fixed him with a suddenly sultry look, “We’ve done far more than touch wings if memory serves.”

“I’d forgotten about that,” Thunderlane said with a nostalgic smile, though it faded as he caught the pointed look Cloudchaser was fixing him with, “Er...I mean...aw, hell.”

“Oh?” Cloudchaser pressed, though her tone was mostly good-natured, “You’d ‘forgotten about that’ had you?”

“Well I remember now,” Thunderlane looked away in an effort to hide a blush, “That was decades ago! We were hardly more than kids! Not my...best performance if I recall.”

Cloudchaser eyed her freshened shot glass for a moment, “I remember it fondly enough.”

“You do?” Thunderlane turned back to her.

“Well, maybe it’s just the nostalgia talking,” Cloudchaser shrugged, then pointed to her shot glass, “Maybe the liquor,” she knocked back another shot, “But yes, I do.”

“I miss the way the world used to be,” Thunderlane watched as she quietly poured him another shot, “Thanks.”

“We could always...try to go back for a little bit,” Cloudchaser offered, a wing reaching out to caress Thunderlane’s withers, “Pretend we were kids again...you said your next flight didn’t leave until the morning, didn’t you…”

“But aren’t you...I thought…” Thunderlane tried to think through the haze of alcohol fogging his system.

“Not obligated,” Cloudchaser shook her head, her wing dropping lower down his back.

“Oh…” Thunderlane grinned, “Well in that case...yes.”


* * * * *


Thunderlane wore an excited little look on his face as they made their way to the elevator. He leaned up against the inside of the car after the doors slid open, holding out a wing to keep them from closing as Cloudchaser stopped outside.

“Coming?” he asked, earning a sultry grin from the mare. Thunderlane let out a snort, “You know what I mean.”

“Sorry, one sec,” she apologized, peering through her purse.

“You, um...you aren’t in heat, are you?” Thunderlane asked, lifting his head to try to peer into her purse, “I don’t have any—”

“No, you’re fine, already over and done with till next year,” Cloudchaser assured him, snapping her purse closed as she trotted in next to him. The doors closed with a bump and Thunderlane hit the button for his floor.

“Are we...really doing this?” Thunderlane spoke up, looking at her, “I’m not dreaming, am I?”

“You tell me…” Cloudchaser fluttered her eyes as she pressed him into the corner, her lips finding his own and her feathers brushing low. Her straightforwardness startled him, his wings shooting up in a mixture of alarm and arousal, but he recovered quickly enough, reciprocating as he let his eyes fall closed.

Neither of the ponies seemed to feel when the elevator came to a stop and the doors rolled open.

“Ope!” A startled buck exclaimed, eliciting a startled whinny from Thunderlane, “I’ll, uh, I’ll take the next one,” Thunderlane quickly shot out a wing to the button that closed the door, his cheeks flushing as they began to ascend again.

“Anypony ever tell you you’re cute when you blush?” Cloudchaser asked, the words just heating his face even more.


* * * * *


Thunderlane had to stab his room’s key into the lock a few times before he got it to go in.

“I hope that’s not a sign of things to come,” Cloudchaser snarked as Thunderlane opened the door and led the way inside. It wasn’t anything special; a bed, some cheap furniture, a bathroom, and a mini fridge. Cloudchaser eyed the room from the open doorway before shutting it with a wing.

“Shall I...freshen up a bit before we—mph!” Cloudchaser silenced him with her lips, eliciting another startled jolt from his wings as she pressed him back into the bed. They made out on it for some time, then made love for even longer.


* * * * *


“That was…” Thunderlane took a moment to catch his breath as he stared up at the ceiling, “Wow, I needed that.”

“Mmm,” Cloudchaser hummed as she nuzzled into his neck, cuddled up against him with a wing laid out across his dark chest, “Military life stressful?”

“Like you wouldn’t believe,” Thunderlane admitted, looking suddenly dour, “Are you still in touch with Cerulean Skies at all?”

“Hmm?” Cloudchaser ceased her nuzzling.

“Cerulean Skies,” Thunderlane turned to her, getting a questioning look, “Blue coat, yellow mane, he had eyes kinda like mine?”

“Booze must be making me forget his face, but the name sounds familiar,” Cloudchaser settled back down, her eyes falling shut again, “Why?”

“He was with the eighty second air cavalry,” Thunderlane leaned back again, a small grimace playing across his features, “His squad was shot down by griffin mercs, it was bad. We found him wrapped up in some stray clouds, and he was…” Thunderlane winced, looking away for a moment, “Docs said he had Wartime Stress Disorder, pretty bad case of it, too. He got a section eight and was sent home to Ponyville. I told him I’d write, but I don’t think he even heard me and...I never did.”

“Want me to ask around when I get back?”

“Please?”

“Sure,” she stretched and stood on the bed, earning a small grin from Thunderlane as she straddled him, “If you’re ready let’s do this.”

“It might take me a minute to get—” Thunderlane started, peering down his belly.

But her words had been for me.

Even before he had started speaking I tapped the golden bands of my forehooves together. The soft clink that they made was followed by a softer glow as the thin wire of the garrote gleamed between them.

Quick as a snake my forehooves shot out across the bed, snapping the garrote around his neck and pulling tight. His eyes shot wide and his forehooves reached up towards the choking obstruction, but Cloudchaser pinned him down with force. Tears began to streak down his face as she leaned in with a cruel grin.

‘Why?’ his lips formed the question he was unable to ask as he struggled against her, lurching and thrashing as he tried to get out from under her hooves.

Green flames burned away the mare’s coat, terror flashing across Thunderlane’s darkening face as he stared up into the mirror image of himself.

“Death to Equestria!” Thunderlane’s doppelganger hissed as his eyelids fluttered shut and his struggling ceased.

I kept up the stranglehold for another few moments before tapping my hooves together again. The garrote faded away and I undid the clasp of my cloak, finally appearing in the room. The changeling fancied me with a grin as it stood over its prize.

“Well was that a perfect execution or what? I even got my little ‘Death to Equestria!’ thing in there at the end. I’d been practising saying that!”

“The pony is not yet dead,” the words came slowly from my mouth, the taste of them still unfamiliar on my tongue. Equestrian was easy to understand, but harder to speak. The changeling frowned down at Thunderlane’s breast, noting with surprise his shallow breathing had resumed, “Hold him still while I take his head.”

Hopping up onto the bed, I took the pony’s head in my forehooves as the changeling held him down. The right amount of force applied in the wrong direction and I felt more than heard as his neck snapped. Pressing a hoof under his jaw I felt no heartbeat and his chest rose no more.

“There, now, he shall fight no more,” I wrapped my hooves around his broken neck again and pulled him off the bed. His body thumped to the carpeted floor and I jerked my head behind me as I began to drag him, “Now kindly get the bathroom door.”

“Why didn’t you just strangle him to death?” the changeling asked as it did as commanded.

“Ending life in such a manner takes too long,” I shook my head as I dragged Thunderlane’s body into the bathroom. The changeling helped me dump him into the bathtub, “And his suffering I did not want to prolong.”

“He’s a pony,” the changeling scowled down at Thunderlane’s limp form, “Serves them right to suffer after what they did to our hive. I say let them all choke and scream, die voiding themselves in terror, pain, and fear.”

“On this we do not agree,” I shook my head, reaching into my saddlebags to procure a small, red talisman on a necklace. “Would you wish such a thing on me?”

“What’s that?” the changeling ignored my question, jabbing a hoof at the necklace.

“Did you think we would flush him down the drain?” I spoke as I wrapped the necklace gingerly around the dead pony’s neck, clasping it and pulling my hooves away quickly as the talisman lit up, “This will be rid of him without a bloodstain.” With a flash of heat the pony’s body disintegrated into fine, pink ash. Moving with care, I fished out the necklace and undid the clasp before storing it in my bags. From there it was a simple task of washing away the cremated remains.

“You zebras sure are nifty with all your magical doo-das,” the changeling commented as I shut off the water, “So are we done now? I get to wait until morning and go infiltrate the Ministry of Awesome as Thunderlane and you...” it hesitated, “Well, do whatever it is zebras do in their free time?”

“That is the plan as it has been decreed,” I nodded, giving the room a final once-over to ensure nothing was amiss, “Have you any questions or may I proceed?”

“Are you going to be the one collecting the dead drops?”

“No,” I shook my head.

The changeling frowned at that, “What, no rhyme for that one?”

“Zebras do not rhyme all the time,” I frowned at him.

“But you just…” the changeling frowned again, “Nevermind, no more questions. May peace last forever between the caesar and the queen.”

“Indeed,” I nodded, then pulled my cloak up over my head and was again unseen.
> Zebra: Klemenza’s Duty by Clarke Otterton
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Lieutenant Klemenza, wake up, sir.” I pushed back against the hooves of my tesserarius as she shook me from my dozing. Grumbling, I looked at my watch and saw that it had only been fifteen minutes since the legion had halted in a hayfield overlooking a sleepy farming village. Thick forests and tall fields of wheat surrounded the town, and beyond that, plumes of dust rose skyward to show the progress of the retreating Equestrian Army.

“Sorry, Sergeant Thito, closed my eyes for a second,” I said to defend myself. I shuffled against the round haybale I was leaning against to reanimate my stiff limbs. The hay was fresh and coarse, the fibers chafing between my equipment belts and wool tunic as I moved. 

The legionnaires around me had the same idea as me, the zebras lounging between haybales and furrows in the field. Most had placed their helmets over their eyes as they lay, light glinting off the exposed brass of those helmets that had lost the canvas cover bearing the embroidered “XX” insignia of the 20th Legion. A few of my soldiers had discarded their helmets entirely in favor of local varieties of wide-brimmed felt hats. I made a note to address the slackening discipline when we arrived in our billets for the night; it seemed to be getting worse with each mile we marched.

Since the start of the war three weeks ago, our legion and the rest of the Empire’s armies had marched over 400 miles into Equestria. When we weren’t marching, we were fighting. And for that reason, I didn’t blame my soldiers for taking the brief respite to catch the last evening rays of a warm summer sun that was slowly dipping between boiling columns of storms building on the horizon. But the Caesar set his standards for a reason, and as an officer it was my duty to uphold them.

I jotted down a few figures in my notebook for the quartermaster, then returned it to my side pouch. A little clay figurine fell out into the grass, the painted shapes of a zebra nuzzling a pony filly poking between the yellow stalks. I smiled warmly to myself as I retrieved the figurine in my hooves. 

My father had cherished this item for years, telling me stories of how it had brought him fortune during his service on the northern border with Equestria. I nuzzled the smooth contours of the clay, feeling the subtle bumps of lacquer that were thickest where a little star was painted on the flank of the filly. To my father, carrying the figurine was a reminder of his duty, to defend and nurture that which was blessed by the providence of the Stars. When I received my commission, he passed the figurine to me; it was the last thing he ever did.  

“Major says we’re resuming the advance in a few minutes,” Thito said. I shoved the figurine into my pouch and glanced again at my watch out of habit. Thito removed her helmet to smooth out the sweat-matted hairs in her mane. “Hopefully we get out of this field soon, it’s making me nervous.” The sergeant turned her gaze skyward. My eyes followed, scanning for the dreaded dark smudges of a pegasus flying between the clouds.

“I would prefer to not get wet again,” I said lightheartedly. The evening rain showers had become a regular occurrence during our march. I did not envy the zebras working the wagon trains whenever the storms turned the dusty roads into frustrating quagmires of mud. The morning rain was just as frustrating for us, except that the ponies typically used shrapnel instead of water. Although I suspected the Equestrian guns were already limbered and heading north, a substitution of shells for our normal afternoon storm two days ago reminded me that my assumption could be wrong.

“Really? I kind of enjoy the rain – washes the dust off,” Thito also tried to keep her tone humorous. I chuckled with her to ease the knots in my stomach. The relief did not last long as whistles sounded along our line.

“Well, looks like that’s our cue,” I said, shaking loose hay off my uniform as I stood up.

“Alright you lot, get up!” Thito commanded as legionnaires struggled to their hooves and mouthed curses as they replaced helmets and straightened their harnessed rifles.

I drew my saber from its scabbard and took a deep breath. “Fix bayonets!” I followed the lead of the other centurions in my cohort after hearing the sound of scraping metal along the line. I was nervous. It was rare for a lieutenant to command a centuria, a role typically reserved for senior captains and majors, but this was war. I was the second optio in my centuria to fill the post of centurion, and likely not the last one, either. I didn’t want to think about it. 

“Centuria will advance at the walk. Forward!” I took my saber in my mouth and used my free hoof to urge my legionnaires to follow me. 

Our cohort’s objective appeared to be a grove of pear trees that bordered the main road on the southwest side of the village. The tops of the trees glowed warmly above dark, cool shadows that concealed the worn lanes the farmers used to tend to the crop. The shadows also concealed an irrigation ditch, which flashed to life with the rifles of khaki-clad ponies.

I ducked as their first volley flew over my head. Regaining my composure, I tried to issue a command. My voice cracked. I tried again. “Charge Bayonets! At the trot, forward!” The line surged and twitched as legionnaires picked up the quicker gait and dodged zebras who had been felled by the Equestrian rifles.

The crackle of the ponies’ musketry was near constant; I had learned from the past weeks to respect the efficiency of the ponies and their rifles. The Equestrians were stubborn in the defense, always picking the best ground to whittle away at our advancing formations, always standing firm, yet always giving way to the inevitable progress of our legions. I took a quick glance at my watch then smirked as I waved my saber forward.

It was simple mathematics; each pony with her rifle could fire fifteen rounds a minute. Sustained fire by a company-sized unit of ponies could break my cohort in three minutes, although the intensity of flashes in front of me suggested that the company positioned in the pears was severely understrength. I estimated that the distance between us was 200 lengths, which with a good execution of walk-trot-canter evolutions my centuria could cover in just under two minutes. 

I opened my mouth to issue the next order in the evolution, but my voice was drowned out by the screeching of a shell that exploded to my left. The shrapnel shredded two of my legionnaires and tossed an additional five in a shower of dirt. The cohort’s advance stalled as zebras around me buried themselves in the ground to shelter from the sudden barrage along our line.

“Shit,” Thito swore as she hit the dirt next to me. “Damn ponies are going to get away again.” Through the haze of dirt and smoke I could see the small bursts of color and khaki as ponies rushed deeper into the shadows of the pears. There must have been a pegasus hiding in the clouds, and his efforts now allowed the Equestrians to retreat further north and fight again another day.

“Maybe the 2nd cohort,” I flinched as a shell burst ten lengths to our right, “can make it to the road and cut them off.” I ducked again as another high whine sounded overhead, the shell coming down to carve a long furrow behind Thito. I started to get up to avoid the explosion but Thito pushed me back down.

“If the ponies used a proximity enchantment instead of manual fuses, they wouldn’t have that problem,” Thito said, chuckling back at the faulty shell. “Not that I’m complaining. These guns are close, though - that trajectory was almost perfectly flat.” Screams of pain sounded behind us, another shell finding victims among my legionnaires.

“On second thought, maybe getting wet doesn’t sound so bad after all.” Thito rewarded my joke with an obscene gesture.

“Look, there’s our battery, just on the edge of the pear grove,” Thito pointed to where I could see the muzzle flashes of the guns, the bursts of light holding the darkening evening sky back with each shot. I estimated the distance to be 300 lengths. The guns were close. “What do you want to do, sir?”

I gulped, but I knew what I had to do. “Our orders are to close with the enemy at every opportunity,” I said. “We’re going to do our duty. Sergeant Thito, get the centuria lined up.” I hopped up as my tesserarius shouted in her monstrous voice to stir my legionnaires. Adjusting my helmet and equipment, I turned my head back briefly and smiled.

“Let’s go get us some guns.” Shells exploded around me, showering my zebras with dirt, but through the murk I could see them return my smile. I took a deep breath. “Charge bayonets! Advance at the canter, FORWARD!”

My heart pounded in rhythm with my hooves and those of the hundred and fifty or so legionnaires cantering behind me. Within twenty strides most of my centuria was clear of the shelling. I leapt over the ditch that was now empty save for spent brass casings and discarded equipment. As I landed, I changed leads to swing onto one of the lanes between trees. Through the branches I could see the battery still firing steadily towards my cohort. Ponies, all of them pegasi I noted, dashed between the guns and caissons arranged on a small hill. The battery’s exposed position was hastily chosen and, if it were not for the extra mobility the wings of the pegasi provided, would make an easy target for our own artillery. I only hoped my legionnaires were quick enough to catch them.

“Here’s the final stretch, let’s kick ‘em back to the Stars. For the Caesar!” I shouted as we cleared the grove with nothing but open fields between us and the battery, which was now frantically limbering its pieces. I felt the glory of the moment rip through my muscles as they stretched with each stride. This was my duty, and I was proud to do it.

“Cavalry on the left!” Thito shouted beside me.

“Shit!” I turned to see a squadron of pegasi flying towards my centuria’s open flank, their line bristling with lances as they wheeled out of a stand of oaks. The guns would have to wait.

“HALT!” I skidded my hooves into the dirt. “Centuria will wheel on-line, to the LEFT!” A ragged line formed next to me. The mathematics were against me this time; I tried not to focus on the figures.

“FIRE!” The line erupted in sporadic crackling as my legionnaires fumbled with their rifles. It took ten seconds for the firing to become steady, and another ten seconds before the first pegasi started to crumple down into the field. That only left ten seconds to break the charge before the lances were upon us. It wasn’t enough time.

“Charge bayonets! Brace yourselves,” I ducked as a lance attempted to spear through my helmet. The legionnaires dug their bayonets into the chests of the leading line of lancers. The second line of cavalry was smarter, flying above the reach of bayonets to plunge their long lances into the rear ranks of my centuria. Most of the zebras discarded their rifles, relying on their martial skills to maneuver on their hooves and tussle with the scattering lancers.

A pegasus charged at me with her lance, clipping the sleeve of my tunic and burying in my pouch before I slapped the lance away with my saber. The mare pulled back to recover. I threw my saber down then twisted onto my forehand before throwing my weight into my hindquarters. The kick caught the mare squarely in the jaw. 

I picked up my saber and returned it to its scabbard. Thito flicked her hoof to stun a red pegasus that was charging at me while I was bent over. “Thanks,” I said.

“I never understood your attachment to that pony weapon,” Thito said in reply. I chuckled then spun around to assess the battle. An Equestrian bugle sounded just as I started. The lancers turned their heads towards the sound, then flew up to disengage. I felt a bit of relief wash over me, then scowled as I realized why the cavalry was called off. My eyes just caught the last specks of the battery as the pegasi tugged the guns further into the stormy evening sky. I swore. Another failed opportunity to fulfil my duty.





     
“I would say you did your duty admirably, Lieutenant Klemenza,” Major Praeclarus said. I soaked up the praise of my cohort’s Primus Pilus as I walked beside him and the rest of the regrouped legion along the road into the village.

“The guns still got away, sir,” I said, a tinge of bitterness escaping into my voice.

“But he took the initiative, and gave those lancers a good thrashing, too, that he did, sir,” Thito offered her own praise to Praeclarus. He chuckled.

“You did good, kid. I wish I had more officers like you, the kind that I know I can trust to do their duty.”

“Thank you, sir,” I said. I grinned warmly in acceptance of the praise, which meant the world to me. The tall, handsome figure of Praeclarus, as well as his good-natured leadership, reminded me of my father. I liked to imagine, as I walked down the road between lengthening shadows, that the spirit of my father moved beside me in the orange light of evening just as Praeclarus did now. He would be proud of me; I was doing my duty.

“Do you still carry around that clay thingy?” Praeclarus asked, the tone in his voice suggesting he was in the mood for teasing.

“Of course, sir,” I replied. “It served my dad well until it became mine, and well, the Stars decided it was his time.” 

“You still believe that Stars hocus pocus,” Praeclarus huffed. I pulled a mock look of shock over my face, then laughed along-side my commander.

“Don’t say that too loud, you might run into an inquisitor when you least expect,” I joked.

“Confess! Confess!” Thito joined in on the fun.

“Whoa, what have we here?” Praeclarus said, his face becoming serious as our column entered the village. I saw why. The scene before us was one of utter chaos. 

A swarm of refugees clogged the only road out of the town, ponies rushing madly to push their carts away, each one heavily laden with a potpourri of personal items. A broken down wagon, its axle snapped in half, was the source of the traffic jam. Most of the ponies working to clear it abandoned their efforts as soon as they saw our column enter the village, looks of fear flashing across their colorful faces before they clambered around the wagon and away from us. Those who chose to stay huddled in their houses, some looking at us with tears welling in their eyes while others simply glared as they slammed shutters closed. Even though I had seen the same scene countless times ever since we had crossed the border, the plight of the ponies caught in the midst of the war always pulled my spirits down. It was simply pitiful.

There was, however, a notable difference between this village and the ones I had been in before. A large contingent of khaki-clad ponies filled the tiny square of the village. Many of the ponies leaned against buildings, their tunics unkempt and opened to reveal matted fur as they nursed bleeding soles on their hooves. 

A cherry red unicorn, an officer by the style of her tunic, was hobbling in the center of the square in an attempt to restore order to the stragglers. Despite the deformation of her foreleg, the mare seemed to get around well, bouncing with a bubbly grin in a losing battle to get the ponies to listen. Her grin remained fixed, albeit with less bounce, as we halted the column then approached her. Despite her being my enemy, my heart felt for the Equestrian officer and her plight.

“Major Praeclarus, Primus Pilus, 3rd Cohort, XX Legion. Of my orders I demand your adhesion,” Praeclarus introduced himself in Ponish to the officer. 

“Lieutenant Klemenza of the 3rd Cohort. My expectation is of the same sort,” I struggled to follow my commander’s lead while also finding the right words in Ponish.

“Ok then, since we’re doing full titles,” the officer’s grin persisted, “I’m Major Cherry Bounce, 8th Brigade staff and previously of Their Majesties’ 2nd Battalion, North Equus Regiment of Hoof.” Praeclarus noticeably winced. “Most of the ponies here belong to that battalion and are in pretty bad shape. Do you have additional medical supplies? We need to get them some care.”

“Excuse me? What do you mean by we?” The shift in Praeclarus’s tone caught me off guard. I looked up to him and saw that a firm malice had overtaken his previously temperate scowl. The pony noticed it too, her eyes retreating behind the same cheerful grin.

“Well,” she began, “I’m assuming we are now your prisoners. I don’t want any trouble, Major Praeclarus, just what’s best for my ponies.”

“Sergeant Thito,” Praeclarus spoke in our language, “fall the cohort out, starting with your centuria. Tell them to enjoy the spoils.” Thito looked at me, her ears tilted in a confused expression at the order.

“Sir, what do you mean …” I started to ask, confused as well 

“Do it, sergeant.” I had never heard Praeclarus speak so sharply.

“Yes, sir.” Thito gave me one last look before marching off to dismiss the legionnaires from formation. Cherry Bounce took a sip of something from a tin flask as she listened to our exchange.

“Our legionnaires fought hard, lieutenant. Let them have their spoils of war. I’m sure there’s even a good mare for you here.” Praeclarus raised an eyebrow and smirked. I opened my mouth to question further as legionnaires ran past me into the village, but my commander switched into Ponish to continue addressing Cherry Bounce.

“Major Cherry Bounce, I am afraid we are not taking prisoners from the North Equus tonight. But I can assure you, your ponies will be quite alright.” The sleight of tone caused my stomach to twist. 

“But sir,” I protested, “is it not our duty to capture and safeguard all Equestrian prisoners we encounter?” I watched as zebras started pounding on shuttered doors, breaking windows and anything that was deemed too big or worthless to fit in their packs. A few ponies in khaki struggled to defend against the zebras but were shoved aside. The lack of discipline appalled me, yet I understood it. 

“Our duty is to win this war, Klemenza, for the Empire. You can’t do that by making friends with ponies. I learned that the hard way.” Praeclarus patted his hoof on my withers and smiled warmly. “You’ve still got a lot to learn kid. Go have some fun. Maybe even start with this red mare – she’s a looker.” 

My eyes drifted toward Cherry Bounce’s haunches as the mare, her eyes widening at the flood of legionnaires pillaging the village, turned her backside to hobble towards her ponies. A brief spurt of desire warmed through me, but it was pushed aside by the growing turmoil in my mind. I turned to my commander, my mouth aghast. I trusted him. He was like my father. But something tugged at me, a prick at my heart that fueled more unease to pump through me. 

“Sir, I don’t … my duty …” I stammered. 

“Still on about that duty?” Praeclarus shrugged. “Very well, since you want to keep working. Round up some legionnaires and prepare torches to set fire to the village. Once you are done, take Bounce and her ponies into the grove and … take care of them.”

“Sir, I can’t … that’s…” I could barely think of the words to say. I wanted to understand.

“You want to do your duty, don’t you, lieutenant?” Praeclarus’s eyes were cold and hollow as he stared into mine. “I can trust you to do your duty, right, lieutenant?” I sighed.

“Yes, sir.”

“Good.” Praeclarus walked off, leaving me standing in the middle of the square. The first screams of violated ponies rang through my ears, but I filtered them out just as I wiped the tear from my eyes. I had my duty to do.

“Thito!”

“Yes, sir,” Thito ran up to my side. “You know what’s gotten into the major? I’ve never seen him unhinged like that. What did that unicorn officer say to him?”

“I forgot you don’t speak Ponish, Thito. To be honest, I’m not sure. But we have some duties to do. Round up some legionnaires.” Thito returned within a minute with 30 zebras. Her efficiency always impressed me. 
    
A busted cart of linens provided the necessary tools for our duty. I instructed my zebras to rip away the spokes and boards then wrap them with cloth. I then ordered them to split open several rifle cartridges to cover the makeshift torches in the flammable powder. 

“Hold your torches out; I’ll light them,” I said. I reached back into my pouch and dug around to find my lighting tool. My muzzle bumped up against something smooth, the clay figurine, which I pushed aside to retrieve the lighter. The twin gems of the tool had recently been reenchanted, so it was short work to ignite the torches. “Sergeant Thito, you may begin.”

I stood still as the legionnaires moved past me, their torches held aloft. Systematically they entered each building, tossing the incendiaries through broken glass into dark rooms. It was simple mathematics; within two minutes, the flames were licking at the wooden frames of the windows, working their way rapidly to the corners in search of more fuel. In less than five minutes, the percentage of oxygen becoming too low inside, the fire moved upwards and outwards until the roofs blazed brightly against the dark sky. By eight minutes the weight of the floors and rafters exceeded what the weakened wood could bear. Ponies dashed about for their lives as the structures collapsed, the beams toppling into other buildings in a chain of destruction. The screams rose to a new, frenzied pitch proportional to the intensity of the heat.

But amid the cacophony, a clear sound carried through to my ears. It was singing, a single melody finding a way to lift itself out of the roaring inferno. I looked around, trying to pinpoint the source, and found the singer to be the red unicorn officer. Cherry Bounce’s lips moved gracefully, still pointed upward at the corners in her carefree smile. I could see the strain in her face, the smoke reddening the edges of her eyes, yet she still hobbled around, leading ponies away from the fire. Her spirit infected the ponies around her as their mouths moved with the same motions as hers.

My heart sank lower than I had ever felt it before. But I forced my way past it; I still had my duty to do.

I took a step towards Cherry Bounce and the Equestrian soldiers. My hoof caught the edge of something as I raised it. I looked down.

My father’s clay figurine had fallen through a hole in my pouch and lay at my hooves. The flames reflected off its polished surface, reddish light licking on the back of the zebra, its body wrapped tightly against the heat as it sheltered the little, star-marked filly. I froze where I stood, my eyes fixated on the miniature scene, then back to where Cherry Bounce stood between her ponies and the village my legionnaires had razed. 

In that moment, I understood what was meant by my father’s duty, my duty, that wherever we saw the pure light of the Star’s blessing, the rare gift of the Star’s providence, it was our duty to protect and nourish that. I placed my figurine back into my pouch and secured it snuggly.

“We’ve completed the task, sir. What are your next orders?” Thito panted as she stood behind me. I could see the sweat and ash dripping in long streaks of black that mixed with the stripes on her face. I felt the same paths of damp ash on my face, except standing this far from the blaze I knew they weren’t formed from sweat.

“We need to round up the ponies and take them to the pear grove. There we will take care of them,” I said, still looking at Cherry Bounce.

“Sir?”

“Trust me, Thito.”

“Yes, sir,” Thito sounded resigned. I trotted over the ponies while Thito shouted to regroup the legionnaires. Cherry Bounce kept singing but turned her head to look at as I approached. She stopped singing to sigh; I felt as if all the joy in the world had been evaporated away by the fire that bleed through my tunic and burned into my fur.

“I suppose this is how zebras make friends,” she said. I winced at the remark.

“Major Cherry Bounce, if you please. It is time for your ponies to leave.” I stumbled in Ponish. Thito formed my legionnaires around the group of ponies, their bayonets fixed and pointed towards the ragged soldiers in khaki. “Let’s go,” I started to walk towards the pears.

“Come on you ponies, get moving,” Thito barked behind.

“Sergeant, they only speak Ponish.” I corrected Thito.  

“Everypony, follow me,” Cherry Bounce said. Her tone was firm yet gentle, a surprising quality, but I was more surprised that she understood the intent of Thito’s order. The surprises continued as she walked up next to me and spoke, not in Ponish, but my own tongue.

“Klemenza, wasn’t it? You don’t have to do this, you know,” Cherry Bounce said, her accent heavy but oddly soothing.

“Um, yes. How do you know what I’m about to do?”

“It’s obvious, ever since your major introduced himself. You’ve already set fire to the village. And I am pretty sure what your next duty is,” Cherry Bounce said. “I’ve been trying to keep the spirits of my ponies up; they deserve that before they die.”

“You know Major Praeclarus?” I asked, ignoring the last half of her statement.

“Not personally, but one of my former lieutenants met him many years ago. He was a different zebra then, but from what she told me something changed in him after their encounter. Or perhaps it was always there and just came to the surface like my mention of my regiment did tonight.”

“He’s like a father to me,” I sighed, “But after tonight I don’t know if I really know him.”

“Did you know your father?” Cherry Bounce asked. The intimacy of her question took me aback, but also mellowed my heart.

“Yes, but he died shortly after I became an officer. I’ve dedicated myself to my duty ever since then. The Stars can be cruel, but that is the fact of life.”

“Then there’s no question of you doing your duty tonight, eh? I am assuming the pear groves are the place?” Somehow Cherry managed to keep a smile through her bleak statement. I tensed at her words.

“Yes,” I said, taking a breath before letting her know the truth of my duty. She interrupted before I could speak again.

“You know, your duty is more than what somepony, err, zebra, says. Or some oath you took, or some flag you march behind.” Cherry Bounce looked around at her ponies. “It is much more than that; you have to find it within yourself. For me, my duty is to spread the spirit I feel to those around me, to feed and foster that spark until it grows into a blaze, burning for joy. It’s why I became an officer, but it took somepony else to make me realize that.”

“Cherry Bounce …”

“Can I sing a song? For the ponies?”

“Yes, but I …” I closed my mouth as she started singing. Her voice was simple and some of the pitches wavered out of tune, yet there was a boldness and fullness in the way she traveled her scale, each note, each word, placed not with care but with spirit. It was the song of a mare who knew she was going to die but chose to live despite it. I wanted to interrupt her, to tell her my choice and that I knew what she meant. But I simply listened as we walked further into the cool shadows of the pears. She was a light in a dark place, a mare touched by the Stars themselves. And I knew my duty.

“Halt,” I commanded the mixed column. Cherry Bounce echoed my word in Ponish. She calmly arranged her ponies in formation as I did my zebras opposite them, then took her place at the front of the line. She drew her saber with her magic and presented it in a salute to me. I could see the tears glisten in her eyes. Even though I knew, it still broke my heart.

“Detachment will load, ARMS!” I commanded. My legionnaires loaded fresh charger clips into their rifles. “Make ready!” The ponies flinched at the snappy motions as the rifle’s actions clicked shut, except for Cherry Bounce. She held firm, still smiling behind her saber.

“I am glad to have met you, Lieutenant Klemenza. May the Stars be with you,” Cherry Bounce said. Her last words were chosen so well; I felt tears stream down my face.

“At 45 degrees, present!” The rifles angled into the night sky. “FIRE!” The volley was loud, it’s crackle echoing through the rows of pears. The sound still rang in my ears as I pulled my saber out and returned Cherry Bounce’s salute as the officer looked at me, her face aghast.

“And I am glad to have met you, Major Cherry Bounce. Avoid the road until you reach the next village. Until we meet again.” I held my salute until the pony major dropped hers. She gave me one last smile, then led her ponies into the night. I watched them as they cantered off through the hayfield, disappearing into the horizon where flashes of lightning and the guns of a distant artillery battle danced between the gathering storms. 

The first drops of rain fell as Thito walked up beside me. Neither of us said anything as the downpour increased in intensity, soaking through our uniforms and into our fur.

“Why did you do that, sir?” Thito finally asked me.

“Because,” I said, turning my gaze to the glimmering specks of starlight that filtered through gaps in the storms. “It was my duty.”
> Changeling: Green light by Salted Pingas
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

A unicorn and a pegasus trotted casually across the barren wastes where nothing grew. 

Both were dressed in business casualwear, the unicorn sporting a conservative dark dress and a sapphire pendant while the pegasus wore a gray vest with a collared shirt and tie. The very distinct jingle jangle of equestrian bits could be heard within the pegasus’ heavy saddlebags as he trotted along.

“Think they see us yet?” the unicorn’s azure eyes remained focused on the jagged spires rising from the wastes before them. Some of her worry leaked out in her tone, though she did her best to hide it behind the indifferent look on her face.

“If I were them I’d have disguised scouts deployed all around the perimeter,” the pegasus replied, taking a moment to adjust his heavy saddlebags with a goldish-gray wing, “Who knows if they’re really that smart, though? I’d bet against it any day.”

A flash of green light was followed by a sneering hiss as a scraggly brush flashed into a  scraggly changeling drone off to their right, “You’d lose that bet, pony!”

The unicorn jumped with a startled whinny, holding a hoof to her breast as she struggled to recover from the scare. But the pegasus stopped and turned to face the drone with a thin smile, his posture relaxed as he replied.

“Well worth it to make you reveal yourself and prove my theory right,” the pegasus’ smile split into a grin as the drone’s ocelli shot wide, then narrowed as the creature let out a soft hiss, “I wouldn’t have known for sure otherwise, so thank you.”

“Damnit, Pincer!” there was another flash of changeling magic from behind the ponies as a rock was revealed to be another drone. This one, however, sported the darker coloration and crimson highlights of an elite drone as it stalked up to the ponies, “Report back to the hive at once!”

“But, sir!” Pincer whined.

“The only butt’s going to be yours on a platter if you don’t do as you’re told!” the elite drone hissed back, not taking his eyes off the equines, “Hive! Now!”

“Yes, sir,” Pincer pouted, departing on a buzz of wings.

“What are you doing here?!” the elite drone’s violet eyes glared at the equines, his stance low and ready for a fight.

“Good afternoon to you too,” the pegasus countered with a thin smile, starting to step forwards, “I’m—”

The changeling spat, a green glob stopping the pegasus in his tracks as it stuck his forelegs to the ground. The unicorn let out another startled whinny, a look of surprise splashing across the pegasus’ face as he caught himself.

“What. Are. You. Doing. Here!?” the changeling hissed out, his sharp horn glowing in warning and his wings cocked and ready, “Last chance before you become pony chow.”

“Please excuse my brother,” the unicorn stepped quickly in front of the pegasus where she gave a stately bow, “My name is Pumpkin Cake, we’re here to bring peace between Equestria and your hive,” Pumpkin raised herself back up to face the changeling, “Perhaps you could escort us to your queen so we might make our case?”

The changeling’s ocelli remained narrowed, hiding whatever emotions lurked beneath the creature’s features. The violet orbs darted from one pony to the other for a careful moment before the warning light of his horn faded and he stood up straight.

“What’s in the saddlebags?” the Changeling asked, dropping the hostility in his tone down a notch.

“Payday,” the pegasus smiled.

The unicorn shot a scowl back over her withers before addressing the changeling, “Equestria’s offer of peace comes with a bonus of one million bits,” Pumpkin paused as if expecting the Changeling to react in some way. When he didn’t, she continued, “We’ve brought a goodwill fee today, five thousand bits all freshly minted.” She gave her brother’s saddlebags a quick pat for emphasis, “It’s the most we could easily carry in one trip. The full million would weigh well over a ton.”

The changeling chewed over her words for a silent moment.

“Stand over there,” the changeling ordered, a hole-filled hoof jabbing off to the pegasus’ side, “Turn away from me and your brother.”

“We come in peace!” Pumpkin looked suddenly uncertain, “You’re not going to hurt us, are you?”

“Don’t make me repeat myself!” the changeling scowled until Pumpkin replied with a nervous gulp and complied.

The changeling trotted around to the pegasus’ side, keeping Pumpkin in his line of sight as he pulled open one of the saddlebags. True to their word, the bag was brimming with golden coins.

“You’re Pharynx, right?” the pegasus’ words earned a startled look from the changeling, the first crack in his otherwise stalwart demeanor. Pharynx recovered quickly enough, hoofing only briefly through the bits before closing up the bag, “Head of hive security if I’m not mistaken.” 

“And you’re Pound Cake,” Pharynx countered, though if Pound Cake was surprised by the changeling’s knowledge, he hid it well. “Primary liaison between the Ministry of Awesome and the Ministry of Morale.”

“I guess we’d both ace our pop quizzes on a who's who of who's,” Pound Cake replied as Pharynx checked his other saddlebag, rifling quickly through the coins, “Though maybe after this I can data dump everything I know about you and put my focus back where it belongs on the Zebras. I expect you’ll be able to do the same.”

Pharynx made a sound that was a cross between a hissing chuckle and a noncommittal grunt. With a flash of Pharynx’s horn, the goop holding Pound’s forelegs in place liquified, letting him pull his hooves free.

“Start walking. No funny business,” Pharynx gestured with a hoof for the ponies to lead.


 * * * * *


A pungent, earthy scent like a mixture of mildew and wet moss assailed the twins’ nostrils as an orifice of a door irised open in the hive’s otherwise solid face. Their ears twitched at the low buzzing sound emanating from somewhere deep in the heart of the hive, the darkness within watching them.

“Keep moving,” Pharynx spoke up from behind them, his voice low but even.

“I was going to say ‘After you,’” Pound smiled as he trotted in, earning a sharp look from his sister. The apologetic look she threw back at Pharynx was deflected by his emotionless mask.

More and more changelings appeared in the shifting hallways and corridors, always watching with softs hisses or with silent and unreadable expressions. They made way for the small procession, guided aside by silent glares from Pharynx.

Pharynx guided the ponies with curt orders of “Left” and “Right” and “Up” and “Down” until they were certain he was deliberately taking them in circles.

“That’s the third time I’ve seen that stalactite,” Pound said with a grin as they passed through a wide chamber, “or is it a stalagmite?” he queried, pausing for a moment, “I hope you’re not lost in your own hive, Pharynx.”

“You got someplace else you need to be?” the changeling grumbled back, then ordered: “Right.”

“I had a spa day planned in Ponyville, actually, go see how the old folks are doing and all that. War doesn’t leave much time to visit,” Pound replied, sending his grin back over his withers, “You’re welcome to tag along with me when we’re done here. You could get your holes done, my treat of course.”

Pharynx let out a low hiss that could’ve been anything from a sound of mirth to a sound of disgust, his ocelli and firm jawline giving nothing away. He only guided the ponies in circles for a few more minutes before a final doorway opened up into the grand throne room.

The interior was rather dark, only a few glowing pods shedding a dull light on the wicked throne of the changeling queen. Of the queen herself, there was no sign...until a pair of glowing, green eyes snapped open against the dark rock of the throne. The eyes narrowed as the slitted pupils dilated in the darkness, snapping from one equine to the next as the queen of the changelings stepped forth into the soft glow of light emanating from above. A wicked smile displayed a set of glistening fangs and a serpentine tongue that flicked out to taste the damp air. 

“Oh,” Chrysalis cooed as her hole-filled limbs carried her forwards to where the ponies and Pharynx were waiting, “You’ve brought me something nice for lunch, Pharynx. So very thoughtful of you.”

“A-a-actually, we’re here on a diplomatic mission from Equestria!” Pumpkin struggled to get her words out, backing up into Pharynx’s suddenly raised forehoof. Even Pound’s carefree demeanor flickered into the spectrum of fear as the queen towered over them, her head dropping low to appraise them like a mare reading the label of a fine wine, “We’d like to sue for peace!”

“Sharp ammonia and chlorine, the scents of terror...” Chrysalis didn’t seem to hear the mare’s words, though her sharp face lifted away from them and her dark lips pressed into a thin smile, “It is good to know that the ponies of Equestria still fear me so.” She turned her dark haunches to the ponies as she stepped slowly back to her throne, “Speak!” she called without turning. 

Pharynx ushered the ponies forwards as Chrysalis ascended her throne. Pumpkin had to struggle with her words a moment before she managed to wrangle them away from the clutches of her fear.

“My brother and I were born just a year before the war broke out,” a flat expression spilled across Chrysalis’ face, annoyance raising one lip in a silent snarl, “it’s practically all we’ve ever known. But you-you’ve known this world for well over a century, the everlasting peace in the years before. Those years were good for you as well, were they not?”

“Those were hungry years,” Chrysalis spoke in a low voice.

“Doesn’t look like you’re doing much better, now.” Pound managed to grin, a hoof pointed upwards to the scattering of pony-filled pods far above. A mixture of worry and terror spilled across Pumpkin’s face at her brother’s words, but Chrysalis allowed a wry grin that showed off her fangs, a mirthless chuckle emanating from within her throat.

“What is your offer?” she addressed the buck, eyes moving languidly over his saddlebags.

“One million bits,” Pound answered, a sharp clack sounding as he undid a strap around his belly. He loosened the saddlebags before dropping them to the ground, “These are for you.”

Chrysalis lit up her jagged horn and the saddlebags floated over to her. A strap popped open and Pumpkin tensed as Chrysalis peered inside before setting them down beside her. Her wry grin melded back into a firm, but contemplative line.

“A little light to be one million,” Chrysalis remarked, her serpentine eyes settling back on the pegasus, “You’re certain you didn’t forget a few dozen ponies somewhere outside?”

“That right there’s only five thousand, the most we could carry easily on the scenic hike over here,” Pound waved a hoof to the bags, “Consider it a goodwill check. The rest will come after we’ve left, provided we reach an accord that satisfies both parties.”

“And what is it that dearest Luna and her precious Ministry Mares want from me?” Chrysalis’ words dripped with sarcastic venom, “A letter to all of Equestria about how I’m oh so sorry that they’re our one guarenteed food source? Or perhaps a heartfelt little apology and some flowers to Twilight about her brother?”

“Hay, I was gonna settle for a back rub but if you promise to do all that—oof!” the wind went out of him as Chrysalis made a quick gesture with one wing, Pharynx driving the pony to the cold ground. The elite drone’s tongue tickled softly again Pound’s ear as he let out a warning hiss.

“Pound!” Pumpkin released a frightened whinny, trotting a few quick steps back as her eyes darted from Pound Cake to Chrysalis, “No! Please! He didn’t mean that!” Chrysalis ignored the mare’s pleading words as her narrowed eyes bored into the pegasus.

“Do not overstep,” Chrysalis intoned, another quick gesture freeing Pound Cake.

“My apologies, your highness,” Pound smiled as he took a quick moment to brush himself off, “What we would like from you is simple: nothing,” Chrysalis’ lip raised warningly, “For you to do nothing in this war,” Pound added with a hint of haste, “Ignore whatever offer the Zebras gave you back on the third and cancel your invasion plans this coming week,” Pound’s lips pulled back in a thin smile at the startled flinch that elicited from Chrysalis, “If I may be so bold: you were better off giving the third attempt another shot. The strawberry angle certainly needed some work and replacing those media hounds could have gone more smoothly if you’d just waited...but I digress.

“Stay out of this war, your highness,” Pound Cake continued, “We won’t ask that you pull back your feeders or even give back the ponies in your larder,” he sent another gesture towards the pods hanging from the ceiling, “All we ask is that you stand back and let us win this war so we can all go back to business as usual as quickly as possible.”

Chrysalis let out a thoughtful, “Hmm,” as she regarded the ponies cooly.

“And then what?” Pharynx surprised Pound as he spoke up from behind.

“Pardon?” Pound recovered from his surprise quickly enough, half turning to face the elite drone.

“After the war, then what?” Pharynx asked evenly.

Pound turned to Chrysalis as if expecting her to strike him down for speaking out of turn, but the queen’s thoughtful expression remained unchanged. If anything, she had perked up at Pharynx’s words, the thoughts swirling beneath her skull shifting towards a less savory spectrum for the ponies.

“Well, as I said: business as usual,” Pound turned back to Pharynx, hoping that would settle the matter, “We go about our lives, you go about yours.”

“Somehow I find that hard to believe,” Pharynx gave a slight shake of his head, “You can’t truly believe that anything will go back to ‘normal’ after this war is over.” Pharynx took a moment to think before he continued. “Let’s say you beat the Zebras. Equestria will have proven itself to be the world’s greatest superpower, unmatched by any other across the globe. Your people won’t go back to farming and wearing silly, golden armor. You’re already past that all now.” He waved a chitin hoof at the siblings as if their mere presence proved a point. “No, my bet’s on you all coming back down here with further terms in mind. This time you came with a pitiful excuse of a gift...I mean come on, really? What use do we have for equestrian currency?”

“Trickle it into the pockets of your feeders so they can—” Pound began to offer.

“Be quiet!” Pharynx cut in, with a sharp hiss. “My point is this: ponies don’t like being afraid of things. What you fear you try to change and when that fails you try to destroy. Once the Zebras are no longer a threat, where do we fit in on that spectrum and what are you going to do about it? Turn your megaspells on us? Take a Zebra balefire launcher and point it at our hive? Tongue the trigger when we refuse to surrender because surrender means starvation and death!?”

“I don’t see why we can’t come to some sort of arrangement wherein—” Pumpkin started to speak up.

“So change us it is, then?” Pharynx cut her off with a glare, “No. No, I think the Zebras that came here put it far more succinctly than I ever could. They said that, from our perspective: ‘the enemy of my food is my friend.’”

“If all it took to persuade you to join them was some simple wordplay then I’m afraid we’ve greatly overestimated your intelligence,” Pound said with a sudden scowl.

“Oh no, they offered us quite the opportunity!” Pharynx bore his fangs with a vicious smile. “They want Luna’s head to roll. Not my first choice, but who am I to judge?” His wings buzzed in the equivalent to a shrug, “But Celestia, the Ministry Mares, and their families? Any number of high ranking officials and members of the royalty who don’t bow to Caesar after his forces march through Canterlot? Let’s just say they know it would be a waste to put all those ponies to death when we can...repurpose them.”

“Sweet Celestia…” Pumpkin took a step back, looking a little green.

“Sweet Celestia indeed,” Chrysalis let out a quick chuckle from her throne, forehooves tapping together lightly, “She will be quite the little treat. An immortal well of love energy, a feast for all eternity...if we don’t decide to just drain her outright and discard the husk.”

“Ah,” Pound smiled grimly, looking back at the changeling queen, “So you’ve already made up your minds, then.”

“My Pharynx does make a good point, does he not?” Chrysalis smiled back.

“Pound…” Pumpkin shot a glance towards the queen, taking a careful step back towards the room’s entryway.

“I know, Pumpkin,” Pound didn’t move, turning from Pharynx to Chrysalis, “I suppose we’ll be taking our leave, then?”

“We came here under a flag of truce!” Pumpkin added, looking between the changelings, “According to the poneva conventions—”

“Your brother here knows quite a bit about our operations,” Pharynx cut her off, “I’m sure he knows quite a bit more about Equestria’s operations. The Zebras would certainly appreciate it if we turned him—”

A sharp buck from Pound Cake caught the changeling square in the jaw, sending him sprawling with a wince onto the hard floor. Chrysalis raised a singular brow as the pony put the changeling into a headlock before he could recover, dragging his stunned form back towards the door.

“Really?” Chrysalis didn’t budge, “You honestly expect to make your way out of here just like that?”

“Get behind me, Pumpkin!” Pound Cake ordered, his sister letting out another whinny as she hopped to it. Within his grasp, Pharynx was starting to recover from the stars swirling across his vision, a sharp scowl taking his features.

“You really didn’t think this through, did you?” Pharynx growled.

“Quite the con—” Pound was cut short as the Changeling’s horn flashed, his form erupting upwards and knocking Pound back as he transformed. Pumpkin cantered back with a yelp, staring up in horror at the massive, multi-limbed creature Pharynx had become. Pound Cake shook himself off, stepping back as Pharynx kept pace.

“What do you think happens if we don’t walk out of here?” Pound flared his wings in an unconscious attempt to look bigger, “If you think—”

“Oh, you’ll walk out of here…” Pharynx’s new form lended him a deeper baritone that rumbled through the air, powerful enough to be felt reverberating within the ponies chests, “You might be a little late to your spa date, but I think we’ll manage to find a pair of drones to replace you.” Pharynx grinned, his more massive form making the gesture all the more terrifying, “Perhaps I’ll be the one to do it.”

“W-well, if you do, just be sure to keep the little plant on my desk watered,” Pound shot back with forced bravado, “I’d hate to see it…” he trailed off as he bumped into Pumpkin, taking his eyes off the hulking behemoth in front of him to see that their way out of the throne room was shut tight behind him.

“Changeling hive, remember?” Pharynx taunted, globs of drool dripping from his maw onto the floor, “Time to say goodbye to your sister, Pound Cake.”

Pound Cake grinned, “Time to say goodbye to your mother, love-sucker!”

Pharynx let out a rumbling chuckle, “What?”

The timed satchel charges in Pound Cake’s saddlebags answered with a resounding BOOM! that turned five thousand freshly minted bits into five thousand pieces of golden shrapnel. 

Pharynx let out an ear-splitting shriek, his massive form shielding the ponies from the fragmentation. The blast wave from the explosion, contained in such a small space, still made them wince back as it washed over them. All three crumpled to the ground, clutching at their ears as a dull ringing stole away all sound.

Pound Cake was the first to get up, shaking off the wobbliness in his head as he peered past Pharynx’s slumped form. He stared just long enough to see that the throne had been reduced to rubble and the queen of the Changelings reduced to an unrecognisable carcass, then turned to Pumpkin.

“Pumpkin! Pumpkin!” he called against the tinnitus, helping her up and lifting the now-glowing sapphire of the necklace to her eyes, “Magic’s back! Time to go!”

Her woozy look solidified as her eyes beheld the necklace, nodding as she lit up her horn with a wince. “We weren’t supposed to be this close…” she grimaced, her voice a hundred miles away.

“Mother!” Pound Cake whirled about at the screech, watching as Pharynx dragged his battered body across the floor, leaving a trail of blood. He let out a sharp, miserable scream, his horn flaring as his form collapsed a little, a few pieces of golden shrapnel popping out of his wounds.

“Ah, shit,” Pound turned back to Pumpkin, watching her glowing horn and pained expression. A sudden, sharp screech dragged both of them screaming to their knees, Pound Cake whirling back around to see an almost normal-sized Pharynx cradling Chrysalis’ remains.

A replying screech reverberated throughout the changeling hive, sifting dust down from the ceiling as an almighty buzz began to rush through a number of holes opening in the walls of the throne room.

With another pulse of changeling magic, Pharynx was back in his natural form, a final set of golden coins popping out of his wounds...wounds that were now little more than pinpricks in his chitinous hide.

“I hate changeling magic,” Pound Cake grumbled, turning to Pumpkin, “Just get us close!” he called over the buzz, watching as she lit her horn again and concentrated on her spell. He turned back to Pharynx as the livid drone picked himself back up, turning to them with a burning look in his violet ocelli, his black lips pulled back in a mixture of hatred and anguish, “Hurry!”

“You’re going to die slow,” Pharynx intoned, wincing in pain as his horn lit up and his collision barrier flared to life in front of him. His wings buzzed as he let out a furious cry, flying straight at the ponies with nothing short of murder on his mind.

Pound Cake braced himself, the changeling striking him in the same instant that Pumpkin’s horn flashed. 

All three creatures vanished...


* * * * *


...then reappeared with another bright flash on the outskirts of the wasteland around the changeling hive.

Pharynx’s momentum carried with him, sending Pound Cake sprawling in the dirt, wincing as he felt a rib crack.

“Pound!” Pumpkin yelped as Pharynx continued past the pegasus, narrowly missing her as he scrubbed at his face with a chitinous hoof, dazed from the flash of magic. Her horn lit up as she turned to him—

“No! Go!” Pound winced, rolling onto his hooves and cementing himself, “I’ll take care of our little bug problem.”

Pharynx turned with a snarl, spittle flying from his fanged maw as Pumpkin disappeared in another flash of magic. His manic eyes feasted on Pound Cake, another shriek of anguish and hatred heralding his next attack run.

Pound Cake leapt up over Pharynx as he rocketed into the dirt where the pegasus had been, gouging a hole in the earth. The pegasus landed on unsteady hooves, wincing as he touched a wingtip to his side.

Pharynx dislodged himself with a snarl, coming at the pegasus with his hard hooves and sharp fangs, little more than a rabid animal. Pound Cake put up a stalwart defense, taking more blows and bites that he gave until the changeling over-extended and a swift strike to the changeling’s jaw sent him sprawling. 

Pound followed up quickly with a set of lightning-fast strikes to the head, battering the changeling down until a swift kick caught him in the gut. The changeling shot up as he reeled and gagged, his jaws clamping shut on Pound’s shoulder and his fangs injecting thrall venom into Pound’s pumping bloodstream.

The pegasus managed to shove the changeling off of him before stumbling back, a growing sense of tranquility trying to steal away his mind as the venom did its work. Pharynx pulled back, breathing hard and grinning cruelly as blood continued to trickle from his shrapnel wounds.

Pound Cake stumbled forwards, swinging a hoof that was easily dodged. He just needed to focus, fight off the venom for a little bit longer, keep the adrenaline flowing. Pharynx just stepped away from his weakening strikes, smiling knowingly as he let the venom run its course. One of his chitinous hooves finally lifted to catch a final strike from Pound’s, holding it as if they were about to dance.

“Kneel,” Pharynx spat. 

Pound tried to fight off the command, biting down on his lip and trying to lock out his joints, but a cool bliss had seeped into his mind and his legs were oh, so tired...he crumpled to his knees.

“Good,” Pharynx almost cooed, “I’m going to drain you now, and then I’m going to find your sister, and then your family,” he leaned in close and whispered like a lover, “They’re going to die slow.”

“I’ll tell Chrysalis you said hi, love-sucker!” Pound managed to choke out, but he could only watch and squirm as Pharynx’s jaws snapped open, the soft light of his love-energy flowing into the creature’s waiting jaws. A hole began to burn in his chest, his heart fluttering as the changeling fed, the little holes in his hide closing up as the love energy healed him.

Then they reopened to the sound of machine gun fire, the changeling crumpling with a shriek.

“Over here!” a gruff, tinny voice called out, the heavy sounds of hooves plodding over the dirt heralding the arrival of a pair of steel rangers, one of them wearing a pair of light machine guns in his armor’s battle saddle. This ranger stopped to cover Pharynx’s still form, watching as his black sides rose and fell with shallow, wheezing breaths. The other came to a stop beside Pound Cake, “Sir! Are you all right?”

“Pound!” Pumpkin nearly collapsed into the dirt in front of him, pulling herself up as she caught her breath, “I...I came...fast as—”

“Ven...nom!” Pound forced out, the wing attached to his bitten shoulder twitching.

Pumpkin nodded, pulling out an autoinjector from the second Ranger’s medical supply box and jabbing it into Pound’s neck. The antivenom worked surprisingly fast, clearing the miasma from Pound’s mind and letting him think freely once more. He took an offered healing potion and gulped it down as Pumpkin finished catching her breath, throwing her hooves around him after he’d finished.

“Came as fast as we could!” she pulled back, looking him over, “Thought you were a goner when I saw him draining you!”

“Pinkie Pie?” Pound queried carefully, an eyebrow raised.

“Flour sack,” he breathed easier as Pumpkin said the words.

“Changeling’s still moving!” the first Ranger called, drawing everypony’s attention to Pharynx as he began to crawl back towards the distant hive.

“He won’t be for much longer,” Pound waved the Steel Ranger back, stepping up and pinning the changeling in place with a hoof. Pharynx let out a mixture of a warble and a gurgle, slumping under Pound’s hoof.

“You don’t want to go there,” he chided, waving the Steel Ranger over and gesturing to his radio, “we’re about to do some renovating now that our magical weapons and armor work here. After all, I can’t possibly leave those ponies in your larder behind and you yourself have shown why I can’t just let your hive live out the rest of the war in peace.”

“Please…” Pharynx wheezed, but Pound turned to the Steel Ranger.

“Your orders, sir?” the Steel Ranger asked as he passed Pound the hoofset for the radio.

“All callsigns, this is Mother Bird,” Pound called over the radio, “you may proceed, I say again: you have green light to proceed. Happy hunting. Out.”

“Don’t…” Pharynx let out a wet cough, blood splattering in the dirt before him.

“You were right, Pharynx,” Pound Cake stepped back from the changeling, lifting a wing to cover his eyes as a Raptor rumbled into view, a swarm of skytanks and vertibucks all around it. In answer, a large, black swarm was billowing up out of the changeling hive, “We are past all that now.”

The Raptor and its swarm opened fire.
> The day the bombs fell: Miners by Fallingsnow
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Lapis Lazuli had been awake for two straight days. As deep as she and her crew were, though, it was easy to lose track of time. The quota numbers floating in her head made it even easier to forget what day it even was. She had lost a lot of sleep lately, but she just pushed through it with a combination of coffee and occasional face slaps. 

She spent too little time around other ponies. Running a mining crew of diamond dogs for the last few years had been a bit of an alienating experience for the unicorn mare. “Ugh… I really need a vacation. Someplace nice, with lots of sun and drinks, and if Luna is kind, no diamond dogs.”

“What was that, Chief?” Rosie poked her head out of a tunnel, caked in dirt. 

“Nothing Rosie, I’m just running the numbers again.” Technically, she was. The clipboard floating in front of her and the pencil sticking out of her mouth supported the image.

“ We’ve almost got this vein carved out. A whole mess of gemstones. Then we get a break, right?” Rosie had one ear perked up, as ever. She always looked so excited and inquisitive at the same time, it always made Lapis feel a little better. Her crew were good at their jobs, and she enjoyed their presence, but she needed a break.

Lapis smiled lightly and nodded, shifting the pencil to the other side of her mouth as she did so. Break time. The perfect time to put in for a vacation somewhere outside of the Manehattan area. She even had a bit of cake stashed away for an early celebration. They couldn’t say no, not with the numbers her crew put out. There was even rumor of her getting an assignment above ground somewhere. Maybe then she would give in to her mother’s badgering and actually look into getting married.

The war couldn’t go on forever, could it? She had to start thinking about life in a war free Equestria before too long. The Ministry of Morale maintained that the end was just around the corner, and it wasn’t like the Ministry Mare, the Element of Laughter of all ponies, was going to lie. The very idea was laughable.

“Done!” Rosie’s voice echoed from the tunnel she’d just ducked back into, and the rest of the crew let out their customary three barks for a job well . 

The four diamond dogs filed into the central tunnel pushing carts loaded to the brim with gems, directing them onto the primary tracks around Lapis. Ace, the alpha of their little pack stood closest to the chief. Rosie fell in place just behind him, alongside Buster and Lola. All four were coated head to tail in dirt, and Lapis smiled up at them. They were all wagging and panting, happy with their work.

Diamond Dogs rarely complained about digging. It made managing them in the mines relatively easy. All she had to do was detect gems, and point her crew in the right direction and stand back. She was so lucky to have them this far away from the main gem mines near Ponyville. She’d heard stories about how unruly the dogs in those mines could get, and was glad that hers were so mild tempered.

Running her magic over the minecarts, she took a final tally of what the haul of the day was. With those they’d already filled, they had a train of eight carts all loaded and ready to be pushed to the surface. Writing down the numbers on her clipboard, she signed her name to the paper and slid it into the small bag at her side and tucked the pencil behind her ear. 

To Tartarus with the break, they’d already made the day’s quota. 

“Okay crew, I changed my mind. No time for a break.” All four of them drooped, ears falling and tails ceasing to wag.

“Because I’m calling the day early! I think you’ve all earned treats, so let’s head back up.” She had to wave them down, because the excited yipping that came from the quartet, especially Lola who seemed to be having spasms of excitement, quickly filled the tunnel with an echoing racket. She was laughing as she got them to quiet back down, and directed them to their places to push the carts back to the entrance.

With all four prepped, Lapis made a chopping motion and shouted out “Let’s go!”

She had taken a single step when the lights cut out. There were only a few seconds of darkness before the five of them turned on their lights. Power outages were not uncommon this far down, but normally the lights would flicker a bit before cutting out.

“Everyone okay?” Lapis turned to look at her crew out of habit, but paused as she saw the looks on their faces. Their ears were all straight up, twitching at a sound that she couldn’t hear. Lapis heard nothing other than their breathing in the dark tunnel.

“What’s wrong?” They were worrying her.

“Something happened.” Ace spoke in his deep, gravelly voice. “There’s a… roar.”

Lapis noticed her mane start to drift past her face away from where they’d been heading, and turned to confront the breeze. They were way too far underground for natural wind, and she couldn’t fathom where it was coming from.

Then, the rumbling began. It was growing louder by the second, following the wind. Hearing the whimpering of her crew, Lapis began backing towards them.

“Run.” She whispered, not believing what was coming at them. Her light, magical in nature, was penetrating much farther into the darkness than their helmet mounted bulbs, and she saw a wall coming straight at them.

The tunnel was collapsing, and a wall of dust and debris rocketed straight towards them. 

“Run!” She didn’t even know where too, but she didn’t know what else to say. Her hooves were failing to move, and she stood frozen in the face of being buried alive.

She felt a pair of giant clawed hands grab her from behind as the darkness hit and everything went black.





She awoke to a light sobbing sound and someone shaking her by the shoulder. Her eyes burned with grit, but she still recognized the form of Ace above her, shaking her lightly. “Chief, are you with us? C’mon Chief, wake up.”

Lapis coughed, trying to clear her throat. Looking around, she could make out dirt walls in every direction. She saw Rosie and Buster near the closest wall, hunched over around something. Rosie was the one crying, judging from the twitching of her shoulders.

“What… what happened?” Lapis asked, knowing it was a mine collapse, but not knowing why. Diamond dogs were good at digging, and their tunnels didn’t just collapse with no reason.

“We’re in a side tunnel. The main tunnel has totally collapsed… and…” He glanced back at the two behind him.

Lapis pulled herself up, not feeling any injuries other than a few bruises. She pushed lightly past Ace and came up next to Rosie. Tears immediately sprung to her eyes and she gasped, holding a hoof to her mouth.

Lola, always energetic and twitchy with excitement, had been the last inside. A collapsing buttress timber had landed on her neck, and only her head and one arm reached into their shelter. Her eyes stared up at them, glassy and unfocussed. Blood was beginning to seep out from beneath her, and Lapis looked away. 

Ace stepped forward to close Lola’s eyes, and the four survivors stood there in silence. The loss of a pack member was rare, but Lapis knew how hard it hit. Diamond dogs formed strong bonds, not easily broken.

“We need to dig ourselves out.” Ace muttered quietly, as if afraid to break the silence. “We don’t know how bad the collapse is, and there might be others down here with us.”

Both remaining members of his pack nodded, and then all three looked to Lapis. She was still their crew chief, and they were all sticklers for the chain of command. Crying had at least cleared the grit out of her eyes, and she wiped away the tears as she tried composing herself.

“Okay… okay.” She sniffled and coughed, trying to compose herself. She reached for her pencil with her magic unconsciously, but her magic fumbled blindly around her ear as she found that it wasn’t there. 

“Okay. Ace, Rosie, Buster… we need to get back to the surface.” Repeating the goal helped to focus her a bit. She did some quick math in her head, knowing how far they were beneath the ground. It would have been easier if she’d had her pencil.

“A 40 degree incline with switchbacks every thirty lengths.” Pointing to one wall, she indicated where they should begin. “That should get us back up to one of the higher tunnels quickly, or the surface if we miss. We need to work fast, or we’ll run out of air down here.”

Her crew nodded at her sadly, but sharply. They were still the best diggers around, and there were few creatures more handy in a cave-in. They would all be fine. They would go for help, and then come back for survivors. They would have a funeral for Lola. Her crew would be given bereavement leave, and she would go on a much sadder but still all too needed vacation. 

She felt guilty that the management part of her brain had ordered it like that.

The diamond dogs began digging, burrowing easily into the earth of one wall. They moved quickly, carving out great handfuls with each swipe of their powerful arms. They would be out in no time. Lapis trudged slowly uphill, occasionally losing her footing on the loose earth left behind the burrowing dogs. 


-----


Three times during their ascent they popped through a wall into an empty section of mine. The air had been turning foul, and each new section they opened up bought them a little more time with a rush of cleaner air.

The fourth time they emerged into a tunnel, it was into a charnel house. It looked like the ponies trapped inside had tried blasting their way out with dynamite, but there hadn’t been nearly enough room in the small chamber. Amazingly it hadn’t collapsed, but it was hard to tell how many had actually died in the blast unless Lapis felt like counting pieces. 

Without a word, they had just kept on moving. 

Finally, they emerged into an open space. They had dug back into a primary tunnel, and in the distance could be heard the sounds of pickaxes and shovels. Clean air filled their lungs, and tears sprung into Lapis’ eyes. They were going to be okay.

Ace, Rosie, and Buster needed a minute to catch their breath though, each one panting heavily and leaning against another. Lapis let them have that. Rescue was only a short ways away. 

As they approached the excavation sounds, Lapis could see several lights bobbing in the distance. She called out to them, her voice echoing down the tunnel and bouncing back on itself so many times she wasn’t even sure what she’d said. 

It didn’t matter though, as one of the lights split off and began bouncing towards them in the darkness. Once it got close enough, Lapis saw that it was Bagger, one of the crew chiefs from the higher levels.

“Lapis! Oh thank the Princess you’re still alive! You were so far down, I didn’t think you’d made it” He was carrying a pickaxe with him, and from the look of his sweat drenched sides he’d been digging for a while. His face lit up as he got close enough to see that she still had part of her crew with her. 

Lapis couldn’t fight the urge and hugged the earth pony, who blushed heavily as she pulled back. “Bagger... What happened? Why did the mine collapse?”

Shaking his head, he could only shrug, causing a small avalanche of dirt off of his shoulders and back.. “No idea. We’ve lost all contact with the surface.”

He looked past her to the three hounds. “You’re the second team my crew has run across. The only Diamond Dog crew so far. We’re trying to dig back to the surface, and now that you’re here it will go much faster.”

Lapis looked back at the panting trio, and nodded. “Okay… but just give them a minute to rest.”

“Of course. I’m amazed you made it up here that quickly.” He took off his helmet and wiped some of the dirt and sweat from his face. 

Lapis gave a dismissive wave and the practiced response she always gave when complimented about her team. “My team is the best.”

He smiled at that, and turned to lead the group back to the other survivors. Lapis felt a pain in her chest as she looked upon the ponies working on digging through the debris that had blocked them off from the mine entrance. 

Pony teams tended to be larger in number than diamond dog teams, simply due to the difference in digging power. Both groups were halved, at least. Five ponies were busy digging with picks and shovels, and Bagger went back to work with them. The digging ponies looked back and gave half-hearted cheers when they saw the diamond dogs approaching from behind them.

Lapis turned around in front of her crew, gesturing vaguely towards one wall. “Okay, the three of you take a short breather. It’s only a short dig from here, and then we’ll get back to the surface.” 

Ace nodded and sat down on the spot. Buster, always a quiet one, hadn’t said a single word since Lola had died and just curled up on the ground to cry. Rosie knelt next to him, stroking his head and whispering softly to him.

Lapis looked around, feeling guilty that she hadn’t done anything other than boss her crew around during their escape tunneling. She peered around the tunnel and recognized that it was indeed one near the surface. A patch of ruptured wall was adorned with an L1 in white paint.

In the center of the tunnel sat a single mining cart on the track, which she saw was filled with tools. Approaching it, she pulled out a shovel with her magic and went to step around the cart to begin helping with the digging. Her hoof caught on something and she tripped, landing on a lumpy tarp.

She pulled herself up quickly, but the tarp came with her, snagged in the strap of her bag. Three ponies lay beneath the covering, bloodied and broken. Her breath caught in her throat, and she reeled backwards dropping the shovel in the dirt.

Lapis had never seen a dead pony before except in the news. Now she’d seen far more bodies than she ever wanted to again. Shaking, she lifted the edge of the tarp and covered the corpses back up. She picked up the shovel and turned around, forcing herself to stop shaking and willing the tears to stop. 

It didn’t work.

The next best thing was to get her mind off of it with some work. Trying to keep her composure as best she could, she approached the wall where the ponies were digging. 

“Gonna help?” Bagger glanced back at her briefly before swinging his pickaxe again. “Help out Juniper with moving the dirt.” 

A green earth pony was loading the dirt as it piled up into a wheelbarrow and depositing it off to one side. Without a word, Lapis began shoveling.





After five minutes of shoveling, her crew had rejoined them. The three diamond dogs took over the digging, and began making it look like the ponies had not actually accomplished anything. They tore into the new tunnel, moving quickly and efficiently. The ponies all began clearing the cleared dirt and debris.

Diamond Dogs didn’t need to use buttresses as much as ponies did while digging. Lapis had never figured it out, but they knew just how to dig and not have everything collapse in on top of them. They’d been doing it as a species forever.

Lapis had never been more proud of her crew.

They all worked in silence, conserving what air they could while still exerting themselves. Lapis kept imagining that any minute now they’d run into the rescue team tunneling in from the outside. There were protocols for mine collapses, and her muddied sense of time wasn’t so broken that she didn’t know it had been about a third of a day since the collapse. 

The first voice to break the relative silence came from Rosie. “I’m… not feeling too great.”

Buster let out one word. “Itchy.”

Ace just kept on digging. “We’re almost outside. I can smell it.” He couldn’t hide the grimace, and the wrinkled muzzle. Whatever he smelled, it didn’t seem to be pleasant.

Lapis was starting to feel something too. A slight burning sensation on her skin. All of them were, judging by the fidgeting the miners were starting to exhibit. Trying her best to ignore it, she just kept shoveling to keep the tunnel clear. 

Suddenly, green light filled the tunnel. Ace had broken through, and the three of them cleared out the rest of the tunnel opening, giving them access to fresh air and safety. Lapis was expecting the excited victory barking to start in, but the three Diamond Dogs stood shoulder to shoulder in the exit to freedom.

“What’s wrong?” Bagger’s voice came from behind her, and she just shook her head.

Pushing forward, she came to her crew, and lightly pushed on Ace’s back. He looked back at her with a look she’d never seen on his face. It looked like fear. Pushing harder, she got him to give way and walked out into the open for the first time in what felt like days. 

Everything was burning. The Manehattan skyline in the near distance was fractured, with great pyres of green flame lighting everything for miles around. The industrial land between the mine and the city was scattered with plumes of smoke which blackened the sky to the point that she had no idea if it was day or night.

The green light was the most horrific thing she had ever seen. Everything about it felt wrong. Even where it touched her felt wrong. The burning sensation had spread and intensified. She could feel it in her chest and her head. 

She fell to her knees in shock. There were dead ponies scattered around the mining camp, discolored and bleeding from every orifice. A sky carriage had crashed into a storage warehouse nearby and gems were scattered all across the camp. Each one sparkled brightly in the green hellfire dominating the land.

The shocked gasps and cries from the other ponies filing out into what she was sure was actually a horrific nightmare and not reality just flowed past her. She was going to go on vacation as soon as all of this was over. A long, long vacation to somewhere far, far away.

A dirt caked claw grasped her by the shoulder and she looked up into Ace’s face. There was blood running from his nose and eyes, and she saw that every other creature around her was starting to suffer the same. 

“The fucking zebras finally did it. They killed us.” Bagger sat down heavily next to her, staring at the burning city. Blood ran from his ears and eyes, and Lapis touched her own face to confirm her fears. Her hoof came back soaked in blood.

She was feeling weak, as though her strength was actively draining out of her by the second. All of the other ponies were on the ground now, suffering the same as Lapis. Bagger’s crews were moaning from the pain, too overwhelmed by whatever invisible force was killing them. Buster and Rosie had gone back inside the tunnel, but Ace still stood over Lapis. He was shaking. They were all shaking. 

Blood spattered the ground as Lapis coughed up a mouthful of it and collapsed. Ace tried helping her up, but fell to one knee as he tried. She looked up at the diamond dog, and weakly managed to put her blood soaked hoof to his cheek.

A bloody hoofprint was left behind as her strength gave out and her leg dropped with a thud. Her body wasn’t reacting to anything she willed it to do, and she watched the pool of blood flowing from her face slowly trickle downhill towards the city.

It was getting hard to keep her eyes open.

Ace was still there next to her, struggling to stand. She could hear him whining with the effort. Slowly, he shakily pulled himself up to his feet using a shovel as a crutch. He looked down at her, sadness and fear visible through the rivulets of blood. 

He practically crawled away from her, back into the tunnel to rejoin the pack, and she watched out of the corner of her eye as the diamond dogs collapsed it behind them. She couldn’t blame them for wanting to be back underground.

She just wanted to go on vacation.
> Zebras and the Last Day: Failure is not an Option by Trooper
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Bar Code, hey Bar Code” I hear my name being called from behind me in the crowded street. I turn and I see the familiar, yellow earth pony mare with green eyes and matching mane and tail trotting up beside me.

“Oh, Hey Persimmon Flower, how are you today?”

She smiles and tells me, “I am doing better today. But I am really worried about the news lately and I wanted to talk to you about it.”

I nod my head, then I look at my watch and see it is only 9 am. I have some extra time before I need to be at work so I ask, “Would you like to discuss it over some coffee?”

I see her hesitate at first. She then looks around and then says, “Yeah, ok, coffee sounds good.”

While I am glad she has agreed to coffee, I also understand her discomfort and nervousness at accepting my invitation. After all the war against my family’s homeland has been going on for almost 20 years now. That and ponies never were welcoming to us zebras. My family even tried to assimilate by giving me a pony sounding name rather than a true zebrican name.  But this is Persimmon, I have known her since I was a colt in school. I know she is different from most ponies.

So, I lead her to the town's Pony Joe’s and buy us both coffees and baklava. After our order is up, we take a seat by the window and begin to talk.

She sips hers then takes a nibble of her baklava. I have always found her attractive, but I know that because of my stripes she would never date me.

“So, what do you want to talk about Persimmon?” I ask her then I take a sip of the scalding hot coffee.

As she takes a deep breath, I see her eyes scan the room. I take a quick look around, just like I did when in No Mare’s land, my eye stopping briefly when I see the poster hanging on the wall of the Ministry Mare Pinky Pie staring back with the legend, “I am watching you, Forever!” on it.

Finally, Persimmon says, “Johnny I am really worried that things are going to get really bad soon.”

“What do you mean?” I ask then I look around again to make sure no one is paying any attention to us as I sip my coffee.

She sighs and says, “My dad has made several deliveries out to New Gallop. He says the town store there is really buying up a lot of supplies and he is positive that they are hoarding them. I just don’t know why they would do such a thing.”

I nod my head and watch her first blow on the cup and then take another drink. Then I ask, “So why are you asking me about it?”

She says, “Because I trust you Bar and I know you do not think like most of the others around here.”

I feel irritated when she says this and asks cooly, “Do you think my being a zebra makes me think differently, is that it?”

She looks stunned at first then hurt as she says, “No Bar Code, that is not it at all. It is because you are a veteran. I mean, look at what all you have been through.”

I am embarrassed at my assumption, but my experiences have made me look at things differently. Then I realize she has mentioned New Gallop and she has my attention again. New Gallop used to be a quiet farming community about fifteen miles from here. Nothing to notice there, with its largest buildings being the set of grain silos that were built ten years ago.

However, that all changed a couple of years ago when the Equestrian military secretly built a megaspell launch complex under it, using one of the grain silos for a launcher. The mega spell is reported to be targeted for the city of Savanna. A metropolis of over 300,000 beings that I have been told by my parents is spread out on the plains of Zebraca.  The residents of Targhee for the most part have no idea of what is going on there.

To buy myself time and to hide my embarrassment I take a bite of my baklava and drink some more of my coffee as it begins to cool. Finally, I ask her, “What are they getting and why do you think they are hoarding them?”

She looks out the window and tells me, “Mostly food stocks. But some other items such as ammunition, a couple of cases of hunting rifles and even several water talismans as well as filters for sewage systems. I mean, sure they have a sewage treatment plant, but how many years’ worth of filters do they really need?”

I nod my head as I take all this in. Then I hear three loud tones that switch to a long continuous tone come from the radio and I hear the announcer state, this has been a test of the Equestrian Emergency Broadcast system, this was only a test. If this had been a real emergency… I miss the rest of it as I shift my focus back onto Persimmon.

Persimmon and I begin to talk for a bit after this. Finally, I notice I need to get going so I can be ready for work at the factory for my shift. As I excuse myself, she tells me, “Bar, it has been so good to sit and talk with you again. It has been too long since we have done this.”

I smile and I think why not, I might as well take a chance, if things blow over, maybe, just maybe I can have a future. So, I ask her, “Persimmon, would you like to go out for a date next week? Maybe for dinner and a show on Tuesday?”

She smiles at me with her ears forward and tells me, “Yes, I have waited for you to ask me out for so long. I can’t wait.” She then hugs me and gives me a kiss on the cheek where I am missing my eye and am scared from the shell that fell short and killed two of my squadmates and wounded me, effectively ending my military career and sending me home.

I then lift her chin with my hoof and gently kiss her on her muzzle. Then I tell her, “I will see you then, if not sooner Persimmon.” Then we both head our separate ways, me toward my apartment on the south side of town and her to her job at the hospital as a nurse.

As I am approaching my apartment near the edge of town, I do my usual look at the small metal sided warehouse across the street. I see there is a yellow can of paint set on the window ledge of the office. It is the signal I have both waited for and dreaded.

I get ready to call into work, but I now know it will not matter. So, I head to the west side of town and to the safehouse we use there. I knock on the door and I am met by a zony mare who I have only known by the name Zilla. As far as I know that is not her real name as she has a cutie mark and not a glyphmark like myself or the other members of the teams. She looks at me and tells me, “It is about time, you are the last to arrive. We have been waiting for you and were just about to write you off.”

I say nothing but only nod my head in understanding.

As she leads me to the basement, I notice that while the house is furnished, it is not lived in. I shake my head at this as I hear the music playing on the radio.

Once we are in the basement, she moves a lever and a secret door is revealed. She opens the door and tells me to follow her into the tunnel behind it.

As we enter, I see the other members of my strike team as well as seeing the members of the backup team that I have known about, but never met before.

When she sees me our team leader Xandra nods her head and tells me, “About damn time. I thought when you became a soldier you were taught to always be early.”

I feel slight resentment at being reminded I was once a soldier. I hate the fact I was once forced into that role and I am only here to try and prevent an even larger slaughter of innocents. But I answer her neutrally with, “I am sorry Captain. I was detained by an acquaintance of mine. She was concerned about what her father told her about the happenings on our target.”

I see her eyebrow raise and she asks, “Anything we can use?”

I shake my head, “Not much other than they are stockpiling supplies, including hunting rifles and ammo for them. Mainly just food stocks.”

She and the others nod. Then she looks at the map on the wall. We all gather around her as she tells us, “We have received the message from Roam, we are to destroy or disable the megaspell facility at New Gallop before they can launch.”

Xandra then begins to inform us of our planned method of attack as well as our egress route and where our rendezvous point is, in case we get separated. 

She then tells us, “Zeke, you and I will provide the support for our team's Balefire Egg launcher set. She looks at me and tells me, Bar Code, you will be the loader and will carry six of the balefire eggs. Zachary, you will be the gunner and carry the launcher itself,” She pauses and looks at the second team, “Xhoses, your team will be set up the same as mine, you determine who is where. OK, lets move. The weapons and kits are already in the vehicles in the garages for both houses we entered through. Team one, on me. Team two, good luck and I will see you at the target.”

As we get up to leave, we all say a brief prayer for guidance and success in our mission. I additionally add a prayer for Persimmon and now regret not having taken the chance to ask her out much sooner.

As we are coming out of the basement, I notice the music show on the radio and smile. It seems they are not expecting anything yet.

As our team gets into the van. Zeke and I both climb into the back and gear up. We have the equipment ready for the others so that once we arrive, they can quickly kit up. As we pass the driveway for the other safehouse I see them begin to pull out of the garage as well. Both vans are marked as Equestrian Telegraph and Telephone service vehicle to reduce suspicions of the two vehicles with crews being out in a rural area in case we are stopped.

As we are driving, we get a flat tire and I get out along with Zeke to fix it. We are both wearing the Brown coveralls of the ET&T service techs. I wipe the dirt and grease off my hoofs onto my coveralls when we are done, and we are on our way again.

Moving down the two-lane highway, I begin to hear sirens from the surrounding communities. Then I hear over the vans radio, three deep tones followed by a high pitched one followed by, This is the Equestria Emergency Alert System, The Equestrian Air Defense Command has detected the launch of another twenty balefire missiles as well as multiple Megaspells targeted at the Equestrian mainland. This is an attack warning, repeat this is an attack warning. This means an actual attack has been detected and that protective action should be taken immediately. The following cities have been targeted Cloudsdale, Fillydelphia, Manehatten, Seaddle, Baltimare, Hoofington, Canterlot. and Dise. All those who are in 100 miles of a targeted area need to report to their stable. If a stable is not available, take shelter in a basement or the lowest level of a sturdy building. Stay away from windows, doorways, and outside walls. Take a magically powered radio with you to your shelter to listen for further updates. Stay inside your stable or shelter until the all-clear is given. If you do not do so you may be exposed to magical radiation fallout. Fallout is a byproduct of balefire explosions and megaspells. Prolonged exposure to fallout may lead to sickness or death. Stay tuned to local media for further updates.

We are getting close to the town when I see that team two's van has broken down and we stop.

Xandra face hoofs and tells them, “Grab your gear and get in, we need to hurry. The attack is already inbound, that means they will be rushing to launch, we have to stop it, lives are depending on us.”

Zach and I help pull the others and their gear into the back with us. It is crowded, but we know we will not be in here long, so we tolerate it.

We are just at the crossroads north of New Gallop when we stop alongside the road again. We quickly get out of the van and grab our gear. We form our teams on the move with our team moving in from the north while the second strike team approaches from the east.

We advance using the lush fields as cover. Then we are near the town and we can see the chain link fence that has been erected around most of it. We can also see what looks like a guard post. I also notice several remote gun turrets along the perimeter. One on each corner and as well as one near the gates into the town.

From my blind side I hear three silenced shots from Xandra’s rifle, and I see the guards go down. We are once again advancing toward the town and we begin to take fire from the remote turrets and are forced to find cover.

We are trying to crawl forward again in the hopes of reaching the guard shake and shutting down the turrets when I see the first of the Security Bots come rolling towards us. We begin to fire and Then I hear gun fire from team two as they try to engage them from the side.

Finally, Zeke yells, “Captain, permission to use a Balefire Egg on those damned bots?”

Still shooting she yells, “Yes, but save some for the target.”

I hear this and dig out a balefire egg and load it while Zeke determines where he wants to aim. Then he stands up, exposing himself and launches it. I hear the thunk of the launcher, I close my eye to keep from being blinded by the flash of its going off. But when I reopen my eye, I see two security bots are destroyed. The other two are temporarily stunned as their spell matrixes reset.

I prepare to dig out a second egg when I am momentarily blinded by a bright flash and a strange loud sound. I am still seeing stars when I look up and I see the mega-spell making its way into the sky, beginning its trajectory towards its target.

We, we have failed in our mission. The lives of all those beings were in our hooves and we failed. Hundreds of thousands will soon be gone; and it is all our fault. We were too late.

I see Xandra pound her fore hoof into the ground and then hear over the radio headsets we each are wearing, “Recall, meet at the rendezvous.”

We all grab our weapons and slowly fall back to the van with our heads hanging low and shame in our hearts.

On the way back to the truck I begin to see lights flaring brightly in the distance around us. From the east I know when Fillydelphia is hit. Then when Manehatten dies. This is followed by the destruction of Cloudsdale to the west and the almost continuous flashes coming from the direction of Canterlot. If not for the shaded goggles, we are all wearing we would have been blinded.

Once we are in the vehicle, we begin to talk about what to do now. Then we hear the now familiar tones on the radio as the now crying broadcaster announces, This is a civil danger warning, the following message is being transmitted at the request of the Equestrian government. The Equestrian Air Defense has detected the launch of several hundred more Zebrican Balefire missiles and megaspells. This is an attack warning, repeat this is an attack warning. An attack warning means an actual attack has been launched and immediate action must be taken. Due to the high number of launches, it is not possible to determine exact targets. Therefore, all residents of Equestria are strongly advised to find a Stable now. If no such shelter exists in your area take what shelter you can in an inside room or basement with no windows. Then there is silence briefly on the radio and the announcer’s voice cracks as he says, May the Goddesses bless us all. May Celestia protect and Luna Defend all of you, Goodbye and Goddesses speed.

Then we hear a loud screeching over the radio, and the broadcast ends with nothing but static.

I hear several of my comrades crying as we drive back to the safehouse in Targhee. We pull into the garage and the door is closed behind us.

As we get out of the van, we see Zilla behind us and she says, “Back into the hideout, now, we don’t have much time, the fallout from the bombs is already getting too high.”

As the others begin to head that way, I tell Xandra, “I need to check a few things for our report back to Roam.”

She nods her head and I make my way to the backyard of the house. As I hear the increasing speed of the clicks from the magical radiation, I note which way the winds are blowing and judge about what speed they are. Then I look up at the sky and I begin to see clouds beginning to rapidly cover the sky. I am stunned as I realize this means that the Pegasus have begun to close the sky. As I watch I see several of the pegasus that live in Targhee begin to fly higher and higher away in their attempt to escape the fate of the rest of us.

I sit there in a chair as I watch this and I realize I have my flask in my saddle back, I take a Radway and then I take a sip from my flask at first. I decide after the sip, what the Tartarus, no use in saving it, so I finish the rest. Then I think of what I have just lost. I am seeing my homeland die, not my parents homeland, but mine. Equestria that I love and was raised in. I helped the zebra nation because I wanted to save lives, and I have failed. I wanted to date a sweet and beautiful mare and now I will not get the chance. I sit here for a while more mourning, and then I head inside and make my report.

As I enter the main room in the tunnels, I see most of them sitting there in shock. A couple of the are tending wounds I had not noticed earlier. It is then that I hear Xevera the mare from team two ask Xandra, “Why did you stop? We could have destroyed that base and killed more ponies.”

I watch and listen as Xandra takes a deep breath and tells her, “Lieutenant, what good would that have done? They had already launched their megaspell. You know as well as I do, that this facility can not reload it, so why should we have continued.”

Xevera responds with, “but we could have punished them for what they did. We could have made them pay.”

Xandra tiredly responds, “But at what cost? Is the cost of your soul worth the price of vengeance?” She looks down and shakes her head, “I am sorry. To save others I would have paid with all of our lives,” she looks back up and continues, “But I will not waste or take lives unnecessarily. Our mission failed, but we, as Zebras, we have not failed entirely, not as long as we maintain some of our equinity.”

I see Xevera has tears in her eyes as she sits down by the others and waits for the end. I then give my report to the Captain. She smiles and tells me, “Thank you, I will send this off to Roam. You did good soldier. Thank you for all you have done and tried to do.”

I nod my head, “Thank you ma’am. I appreciate it.” I look down and I tell her, “The sad thing for me ma’am, is I finally asked the pony mare I have had feelings for since school to go for a date and she said yes this morning. Now this.”

She nods her head and tells me, “You know you do not have to stay here with the rest of us. Go, go find her and spend what time you can with her.”

I feel the tears in my eyes as I tell her, “Thank you Captain. I will never forget you.”

She smiles sadly and tells me, “I will see you on the other side. May the spirits not interfere with you.”

I then notice that some of my comrades are completely despondent as I leave and give a last farewell wave to them. I know I will never see them alive again. Then I close the door. Take a Rad way and a Rad Ex to buy me some more time and begin to head for the hospital.

As I walk, I know I am still picking up more rads and I begin to worry how long I can take this. I come around a corner and I begin to see groups of ponies making their way towards the hospital. I have my carbine that I have not yet fired from the mission still strapped to my back, but I am not willing to give it up yet.

When I catch up with the first group of ponies, I see several of them have bandages over their eyes. Others just stare vacantly ahead as they are led down the streets. From the direction of Canterlot we are still able to hear the blast of the balefire missiles as they strike the city’s shields. This is accompanied by what sounds like thunder a short time after every blast. As far away as we are, I can only imagine how big those blasts must be.

I see one pony walking blindly by themselves and I approach them, asking, “Do you want me to help get you to the hospital?”

The older mare looks around for the source of my voice and tells me, “Please, I was walking with my husband, but we got separated. My name is Fantasy Fudge, what is yours?”

I know her name but with the cover of dust on her coat, I had not realized it was her. “Hi Misses Fudge, it’s me, Bar Code.”

I see her think briefly and she says, “Oh Bar Code, I remember you, you and your sister used to come into my shop all the time.”

I smile at the memory and think of how the loss of my sister in no mares’ land has led me to this point. I then tell her, “That was us. Thank you so much for all the kindness you showed us.”

As we continue to walk, she asks, “How come I never see her anymore?”

I sigh and I feel a tear start to blur my eye as my voice breaks when I tell her, “She was killed five years ago. Her unit got overrun.”

“I am so sorry to hear that. Please forgive me for not knowing and causing you pain by having to talk about it.”

“It’s ok, Misses Fudge, thank you for caring enough to ask about her. Most don’t”

Soon we are at the door of the hospital and I find that it is blocked off with guards there. I also see that they have some of the staff outside and they are triaging the wounded as they come in. There I see Persimmon and I approach her.

When she sees me, she gives me a hug and asks, “Are you ok?”

I nod my head, “So far, but we need to get out of the radiation.”

She nods her head, “The staff has been rotating so we can limit exposure. So far most of those patients we have received have only been blinded or received injuries as the results of falling when they were blinded.”

I am worried about her and asks, “Do you have anyplace safe to go? She looks around and tells me, “Inside the hospital, we have a private stable that was built. If things get too bad, we are going inside and closing the doors.”

I nod my head and tell her, “Persimmon, I think you are going to want to do that before too long. I have a feeling we are going to see a lot of radiation fallout soon.”

She nods her head and tells me, “I know, and who knows what all that is doing to our bodies.”

She is facing south, and I am facing east. My missing eye is pointing north when we see a bright flash from north of us. Persimmon says, “Goddesses that one was bright, it must have been fairly close, where do you think it was.”

I consider it briefly and tell her, “I think that was Manesville, you know with the carriage plant.”

I see her nod her head. Then she says, “I saw a megaspell launch come out of the area by New Gallop. How long before they try and hit that place do you think.”

I grimly tell her, “I don’t think you have to worry about it. Not with the spell gone.”

As we are talking I see more ponies still approaching. Again, most are just flash blind victims. I watch as she helps triage them. Then I hear one of them yell, “Why are you keeping us out here? Let us into the hospital.”

One of the doctors out here calmly tells them. We are limiting the number of ponies in the hospital right now. We will be needing to ration out the amount of care we can give. We can no longer expect the normal delivery of supplies like we are used to.”

I see some of the crowd start to surge forward. I unsling my weapon and fire it into the air. This not only gets them to back off, but it brings out several members of security to support us.

After this, things begin to quiet down for a while. I end up helping the staff of the hospital, in part by assisting with first aid that I learned in the army. I also assist in providing security so the medicos can work safely. We are far enough away from the blast that we are not getting overwhelmed with wounded and burned. Instead we only get those blinded.

As the day goes on and night begins to come, I see one of the guards come out and talk to the main doctor. He then looks at the small amount of injured left and walks to all the staff members telling them to slowly work their way inside.

The few patients still being worked on are turned over to their family members or brought inside. Once no one is really left we go inside the hospital. We all are led to the morgue and it is there that I see a stable door. There is no number on it like the ones from Stable-tec, instead it simply has a letter T painted on it. As we are brought inside, we are made to remove any articles we are still wearing and then taken to a decontamination station.

As I have had military training, I am taken to the security station. Once there the chief tells me, “Welcome onboard, we are short on security as it is and you meet our needs. I saw how you handled yourself out there and it is the only reason I let you in.”

I nod my head and ask, “What is it you need me for?”

He sighs and tells me, “Hopefully not much. But we just closed the door and will not be opening it again until radiation levels are at an acceptable level. We have some cameras set up inside the stable as well as outside that we will be monitoring.”

He points toward the bank of screens and as we look at them, I see a crowd of ponies begin to pillage the Super Duper Mart two blocks away. I soon see another group coming toward the hospital but they are quickly driven off by the machinegun turrets on corners of the hospital. I wish I could help them, but even now I see that they are out of control and it would be dangerous to set hoof into that mob.

I sit there for several more hours with the chief and finally he tells me, “Oh, go on over to the Personnel office. They should be able to assign you a stall and set you up. Tell them that I sent you.”

After I am done there and have a stall assigned, I find my way to the cafeteria for the first meal I have had since breakfast. After I get my tray filled and a cup of coffee I begin to decide where I will sit. It is then that I notice Persimmon laying down on a booth seat at one of the tables. I go over and sit across from her and begin to eat.

I am almost done with my meal when she wakes up and asks groggily, “Why didn’t you wake me?”

I smile at her and tell her, “Well I figured you needed the sleep.”

She gets up and stretches. Then she tells me, “I will be right back, I need some coffee.”

While she is gone I silently contemplate what all has happened since I got up this morning. I can not help but shake my head.

She returns shortly and as I am taking a drink of coffee she tells me, “Well, should we consider this our first date then?”

I cannot help but chuckle at that. Then I tell her, “I was so afraid today that I would never see you again. I had to find you.”

I see her smile brightly at me as she slips her forehoof across the table and she tells me, “Well mission accomplished Bar, and to tell the truth, I am really glad you did not fail in your mission.”
> The day the bombs fell: All-consuming by Jamin P Rose
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

All-consuming. That was my first thought when I oversaw the first test of offensive megaspells. All-consuming—earth scorching—destruction. We'd past the point of no return, and were barreling down the tracks at full speed ahead, we just didn't know it. We marveled at the power we now possessed, and we believed we could win. What fun it was to learn that the zebras now had megaspell technology and were building their own superweapons. Some scoffed and said they would never match ours, they're probably ash now or will be soon.

Watching green necromantic fire of a balefire bomb rushing at you is all-consuming. The worst part is the sound of the explosion, the eldritch scream as it activates, like a daemon ripping into the world from Tartarus. That may very well be what's happening for all I know, zebra shamanism is weird and hard to make sense of.

The scorching wave of death sweeping across the land consumes the city I call home. I have no doubt that when those in the stables immerge, they will find the broken husks of our civilization. I pray that my sister has made it into her stable, a bright mind like hers deserves to survive and help guide the generations that will shape our future. I know I won't live to see that future, but I'm fine with that. The roar of the necromantic fire is getting louder as it sweeps towards the hill I'm standing on. What a day to take a walk in the park at the edge of town.

My only regret is that I don't get to say goodby to the rest of my family. My dad, a smart stallio and genius when it came to studying zebra drugs. My wife, the most beautiful mare I've ever seen and the best singer in the city. My daughter, just starting first grade and already great at math. We had our places in a stable, and I made sure they were ready to go in case the worst happened. I hope they made it, but…

I exhale as the fire sweeps over me, and I feel the end coming. Darkness takes me and I accept my fate. The world's gone, hope's gone, war is all-consuming. Darkness is my new reality, and I am plagued by horrers, fears, nightmares. In time that too fades and I am surrounded by my family, happy and safe even in the pitchblack. Time rolls on, and even that fades until I'm alone in the darkness, but I rebuff it. I don't let this darkness be all-consuming. I light my horn and fight back against the Tartarus I find myself in and my eyes crack open.

The sky is dark and cloudy above me, like a rainstorm blew in off of the Luna Ocean. I stare up at it for what feels like an eternity as my mind reels. I'm alive, but how? What happened to my family? Did anypony survive this? What about the city? All these questions and more burn in my mind until I quiet them and make a plan. I look around at the scorched world around me, my eyes sweeping over the ruined husk of the park. I roll over onto my hooves, stand, and see the truth. The city is but a husk of its former self. Scorched and broken buildings litter the land, some suffered less than others, but everything was damaged.

Looking around me, hammers it home. The world was consumed in fire, and all that remains is a blasted hellscape. War truly is all-consuming.
> The days the bombs fell: L is For Legacy of the Leviathan By Kaipony
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Personal Log, Commander Stormy Seas. Royal Equestrian Navy, Western Fleet. Vanhoover Naval Station. September 4, 1023, Anno Lunaris." 

The tired voice of a stallion spoke into the still air while a gently humming terminal dutifully recorded every word to a tape disk. "This is my first official entry as Commanding Officer of the HMRS Leviathan following her armament refit. I also have to admit that I've never been good at this sort of dictation stuff." A brief round of dry, scratchy coughing interrupted Stormy. The fit subsided, and he cleared his throat loudly before continuing. "I have my doubts that anypony will listen to these logs unless I screw up, but the shrinks working for MoM keep telling me I need to get my thoughts out in the open. It's supposed to help with the stress. Maybe they're right, but I'll be damned if it isn't tedious." Stormy paused thoughtfully. "Maybe the beginning, but not quite the very beginning is good enough."  

Stormy shifted uncomfortably in his metal chair, desperate to find a more desirable position to support his fatigued body without the benefit of a seat cushion. The worn springs of the chair offered a shrill creak in reply. "There was a time when even the worst problems imaginable between ponies could be solved in a day," he mused. "Even seemingly unstoppable villains could be handled with a short speech and a burst of rainbow-colored magic. But that was before it all happened. The war changed everything." Sliding the microphone closer, Stormy licked his dry lips. "I wish I could explain exactly how hooves that used to plow fields are now crafting the activation talismans for spells of mass destruction. If I really knew what happened, if any of us knew, maybe we could warn future generations to steer clear of the same mistakes. But at this point, I don't know it really matters. I want to believe there's still time, but..." 

The chair creaked again as Stormy exhaled deeply. "The War has been going on for too many years, and if there was ever a peaceful end to be found, I never could see one. We build better armor, and the Stripes counter with an armor-piercing weapon. We create megaspells, and they make balefire bombs. We're all just circling the drain as the whole world gets flushed with the rest of the filth. Maybe it was always meant to happen this way. Otherwise, what sense does any of this make?"

The tape disk diligently recorded the gurgle of coffee being poured into a mug, and Stormy enjoyed several quiet sips before his voice returned with a growl. "Whatever world comes after all this would be better off without those damned Stripes in it, too. They're the problem. They've always been scheming, soul-sucking savages." Three more loud gulps made it into the recording. "Too many striped-types are still hanging around Equestria. Spies and saboteurs, the lot of them. They're all the same. Better wiped than striped."

Another weary sigh elicited another brief round of coughing. A deep breath steadied Stormy once more. "But they're the reason I'm even here, aren't they? They're the reason I have her." He turned in his chair and cast a proud look out his office window at what lay on the other side. "My ship." He chuckled with genuine levity. "Compared to vessels like the Celestia, she doesn't get much time in the spotlight, but it's what you don't see that makes her special. She's a submersible, after all, and not being seen is the point."

The office fell silent, save for the soft hum of the terminal, as Stormy continued to stare out the window, his eyes fixated on the name that was painted on the ship's hull. "The Leviathan." The levity in his voice faded, becoming cold and distant. His vision lost focus, as though his thoughts were drifting into an unpleasant memory. "There used to be another ship with that name. An old armored cruiser that sank just before the war started. Sailors say it's bad luck to use the name of a vessel that was lost at sea. Especially when all hooves but three were lost." 

Stormy turned back and leaned closer to the microphone as though he were sharing a secret with a co-conspirator. "I was there, you know. On the first Leviathan. So was my best friend, as well as the mare who I later married." The weariness in Stormy's voice suddenly kindled into startling ire. "I've been a part of it all from the beginning. This whole blasted war! From the first shots the Stripes fired to this day, it's been nothing but fighting for two decades. If the bureaucrats in Canterlot had done something before the shooting started, it might never have come to this." He let out a shuddering sigh and leaned back, the anger in his voice draining into resignation. "But, talking about lost opportunities or how we should have handled those striped savages from the start isn't going to bring the dead back to life. Or erase the memories. The only thing that matters now is the mission. The rockets are almost finished being loaded. Tomorrow, we can finally do what should have been done years ago."

Three sharp knocks on the office door broke Stormy out of his musing, and he turned to glare upon the unwelcome interruption. "Come in!" he yelled. The door opened, and a soupy racket of shouts, metallic groans, and growling roars abruptly filled the office. In the doorway stood a honeydew green earth pony stallion dressed in formal naval officer attire. The stallion did not say a word but instead gave Stormy a pointed stare and sharply tapped the timepiece strapped to his foreleg. 

"Yes, I know," Stormy said dismissively, turning back to face his terminal, still dutifully recording every word and sound. "Don't get your tail in a tangle, Bowsprit. I'll be there on time." Before the other stallion could leave, Stormy offered a final glance back at the pony. "But thank you for the reminder," he added apologetically. Frowning, Bowsprit silently shook his head and retreated, shutting the door behind him. With the background din once again muted, Stormy resumed speaking.

"I'm going to have to remember to thank whoever thought to install sound-dampening talismans in this office." He waved a hoof at the door. "That was my executive officer. Bowsprit is a good pony and a good officer, but too tightly wound sometimes." Stormy glanced at a sheet of paper nearby and slid it over to himself. "The ceremony to officially launch the Levithan's refit and read our orders starts in an hour." He looked over the list on the paper. "And by the names on the guest list, every politician with their hooves in funding or design was invited. Why can't they just give me the damn boat and let me do my job? Maybe we should strap all the bureaucrats to the rockets we're launching. That would get rid of both of our problems." Stormy chuckled darkly. "The Ministries can fire me for saying that after I get back. End log."

A few taps on the keyboard saved the log entry to the disk, and Stormy cleared the monitor. The face that looked back from the blank screen's reflection frowned deeply before snorting and pushing away from the desk. Stormy Seas then stood and strode purposefully to a full-length mirror propped up in the corner of his office. 

He looked his reflection up and down while tugging at his haze grey jacket until it was taut against his own dark blue coat. The gold bands around his fetlock cuffs received a cursory brushing, and he straightened one of his shoulder epaulets that had somehow become slightly skewed. Stormy ran a hoof through his unruly slate mane and picked at the silver strands that had crept into his cerulean highlighted tips. With one final tug, the stallion stepped back, reviewing his reflection. The uniform, the posture, and stature were satisfyingly fitting for a Commander in the Royal Equestrian Navy. He stood still and locked his gaze with that of his reflected doppelganger as if to silently ask for a second opinion. Cold, steely eyes, void of emotion, stared back, fixated upon the flesh and blood pony that had doggedly served his country as it learned to reforge Harmony itself into a fierce weapon.

Stormy shook his head as if to offer resistance to some imaginary spell. He blinked, shutting his eyes to ward off the imagery. When he opened them, in the mirror stood not an equine warrior but a weary, middle-aged earth pony. Creases from years of frowns were worn into the skin around his muzzle, and tired lines stretched across eyelids that sagged over ceylon green eyes. It was not the face of a grizzled leader that looked back, but that of a ragged soul upon whose shoulders rested a great many years of constant, weighty responsibility. Despite the array of ribbons that spoke of years of meritorious services and praise, the reflection that looked back faltered like it had just drawn potato peeling duty for the remainder of his career. 

Stormy's right eye twitched, and he hissed through his teeth, bringing a hoof up to massage his temple and breaking the reflection's hold over him. On the nearby desk, next to the terminal, sat a steaming carafe and his nearly empty mug of darkly roasted coffee. He returned to his desk and reached for the cup, draining the reminder in a single bitter gulp before turning back to the mirror, muttering coarsely about headaches. 

"Twenty-four years, Stormy," he said to his reflection. "Not exactly the 'poster stallion' you saw on the recruiting billboards. You should be retired by now and working at some desk job or driving tugs in and out the harbor instead of volunteering for another combat cruise." He glanced out of the office door window at the sleek, curving wall of bluish metal and let a wistful smirk pull up one corner of his lips. "But, lucky for me, they can't pluck just anypony off a duty roster and drop them into a command chair." A quick glance at the wall clock revealed that there was still over thirty minutes till the top of the hour. A pitcher of water stood on a small filing cabinet near his desk, and Stormy used it to splash a little of the cool liquid over his eyes, soothing some of the fatigued strain that afflicted them, before grabbing his officer's cap and opening his office door. 

Although the sound-dampening talismans' nestled within the door and walls had muted the noise outside to a great degree, it now rolled over Stormy in waves of discordant sound. The low purr of generators and rumbling growls of engines. Clanks of metal on metal. Ponies shouting over the noise of machinery and each other. A dissonant choir that rose and fell like waves beating against a shoreline inside of an artificial cavern. 

Stormy followed the wall of his office to the nearest corner of the immense enclosure and scaled a narrow set of spiraling metal stairs that led to a network of catwalks spanning the entire area's length and breadth. The whole of the cavernous space was awash with feeble light from ceiling fixtures, each pitifully straining in an attempt to extend their glow to far further than they were designed to reach. And yet, they offered enough illumination to each of the four flooded, murky berths to keep workers from stumbling into the dark, foreboding waters that lapped unabated against the quay walls of each berth. 

The entire structure was an almost solid dome of concrete except for the catwalks, support beams, and suspended lighting. Atop the walkways, the racket that had assaulted Stormy down below now lost some of its deafening power. He cleared his mind of the noise as best he could and surveyed the activity below. Everywhere he looked, he could see ponies scrambling and hustling to finish their tasks. Containers passed from hoof to hoof, cranes squealed up and down, and shouts beneath hardhats barked with authority. The four spacious pens, three of which were empty, could have each fit a pair of large vessels end-to-end. Yet everything seemed to melt into the background when he looked down and beheld the entirety of his ship. 

The Levithan's presence, nestled alone in its own berth, was enough to dominate the entirety of the pen. The vessel was wrapped in a dull blue-ish metal from bow to stern, faintly aglow in muted swaths of weak light from the fixtures far above. As the water in her pen gently played off the stark hull, undulating patterns of faint reflections flowed over the submersible's surface, giving life to an otherwise lifeless object. It was as if the ship was already below the surface of the sea. And unlike her surface-bound sisters, Levithan's skin was unblemished, all the rivets and panel lines having been polished down flush to the outer hull. 

Curling back from either side of the wedge-shaped nose were manta-like wings that extended several meters horizontally. Rising from the forward third of the ship's spine was a short, sleek tower crowned by an open-air conning and lookout station nestled over a hatch that led into the interior. A pair of sweeping, V-shaped fins rose out of the water at the stern, and an identical, horizontal fin could be glimpsed just below the surface to the port and starboard of the aft section. The entire vessel appeared like some amalgamation of a predatory whale and a colossal squid with its maneuvering surfaces and flowing hull.

Stormy allowed his eyes to wander over every inch of the vessel. A small smile spread across his face until the ship's name, boldly stenciled on the side of the conning tower in white paint, grabbed ahold of his gaze and refused to let go. It read: LEVIATHAN 103. 

The stallion's mane quivered as a shiver crept up his spine. Somewhere within the subterranean pen, a poorly maintained gear screeched and squealed like the scream of a dying animal. The pungent stench of lubricant oil and hot metal hung in the air. As Stormy massaged the pain of his tension headache away, he breathed in the labors and machinations of the naval service. His eyelids drooped and focused on memories far, far away in the past.

Distracted by his reverie, Stormy barely noticed the catwalk beneath him tremble as somepony strode across its length. Wrenched away from the sights, sounds, and smells emanating from below, Stormy suddenly clutched at the railing as he doubled over, seconds before a fit of ragged coughing racked his body. Through gasping breaths, he glanced up to see a young unicorn mare quickly trotting to his side.

She was dressed in a similar uniform, her straw-colored coat and thistle mane sharply contrasting the darker fabrics. A simple motif of three pink butterflies was sewn into her left sleeve. Putting her shoulder against his, she held Stormy steady on his hooves until the fit had passed and his breathing returned to normal. Stormy relaxed, and he nodded his thanks, hooking both forelegs over the railing. His legs were trembling. 

"Are you alright, Captain Seas?" the mare asked worriedly.

Stormy nodded and spat. "It's just the usual headaches and some old complaints acting up. I blame all that crystalline powder from the old deck cannon designs back in the day. This kind of thing happens when you get older. You'll find out. And you can call me uncle when we're away from the rest of the crew, Adelia." 

"Noted, sir," Adelia replied, stepping away from him and sitting at a respectful distance. "And may I remind you that as your medical officer, it's my job to make sure the crew, and especially the captain, are healthy and fit for duty."

Stormy grunted and ran a hoof through his mane. He shifted his gaze to a crane as it roared to life and hoisted a long, pale white cylindrical object from the back of a trailer bed and positioned it over the ship just aft of the tower. Beneath the hoisted cylinder, two hunched, ovoid blisters ran parallel to one another down half of the ship's dorsal length. The starboard blister was open, revealing a pair of end-to-end, retracting rails with a single rail elevated to allow it to be loaded.

"Tired of mingling with the bigwigs?" Stormy asked Adelia nonchalantly. "A young officer could use friends in high places if she wants to make it to admiral one day."

Adelia flipped a stray lock of her mane from my eyes and shrugged. "Too much paperwork, sir. And I've got about as much stomach for politicians as you and my dad have yourselves." 

"It's true that my brother's disdain for playing political games within the aerial corps is almost legendary within the family," Stormy chuckled. His countenance briefly became stern. "But watch who you openly snub. I'd trade that whole bickering lot of civvies in the Ministries for a handful of stout griffin squads in a heartbeat, but ignoring the politicians is a quick way to ensure you have enemies on both sides of this war." 

"And you should be careful you don't say that within earshot of a sprite-bot," Adelia cautioned. "You could get in a lot of trouble for saying anything perceived as anti-war rhetoric."

Stormy openly grinned for the first time that day, his eyes taking on an almost predatory sheen, and pointed at the tall cylinder that was being lowered onto the awaiting rail that rose out of the starboard blister. "Just so long as they don't dismiss me from the service before we have a chance to deliver our gifts to the zebras." Stormy's eyes never drifted from the operation below him as he beckoned Adelia closer. "Come, take a look." 

The walk shuddered slightly as Adelia obeyed and joined her uncle at his side, her eyes playing over the weapon. It was two meters wide and almost fifteen meters long. An identical one already lay snug on the other rail. Each was painted a pale metallic eggshell except for colored bands marking various seams, and the Equestrian flag was proudly plastered to the side of the nose. Crude epitaphs and slogans were scrawled across the weapons, but Adelia's eye was quickly drawn to the glowing tip of the nose cones. They shimmered with a dull inner fire, flickering with bright orange and purple whirls.

Adelia glanced at her uncle questioningly, and he answered with a touch of reverence, "Tactical megaspell rockets. Four of them."

Adelia gasped. "I heard they were being considered, but I didn't know that's what we were taking on board." The pair observed the waiting launch rail together as the crane finished lowering the rocket into place. "Do the ceremony guests know about this?"

Stormy shook his head. "Their existence isn't widely known. For all our guests know, these rockets are purely conventional. And we can all thank the Stripes for this little innovation." Adelia frowned at her uncle's use of the slang term. Stormy shrugged, and a breeze of recycled air from ventilation ducts overhead ruffled his mane. "Think whatever you want about my opinions, but we both know how this war can only end with one winner."

He chuckled dryly. "What those savages lack in manners, they more than make up for in madness." The newly loaded launch rail retracted with a hiss as technicians scurried across the hull and checked on the rocket. He pulled a crumpled piece of newspaper out of a pocket and gave it to his niece. "Read this."

She took the clipped article and quickly scanned an editorial titled "Zebra Fanatics Threaten Disaster." Stormy watched Adelia read the article, mumbling to her herself as so did. She paled and looked up to her uncle after reaching the halfway point. He nodded in confirmation. The mare shook her head and quickly finished the remainder of the page.

"I didn't realize things had gotten so desperate," Adelia replied quietly, giving the crumpled article back to her uncle.

"The Ministries won't use megaspells because Roam will retaliate with a hailstorm of balefire missiles," Stormy said. "And Roam can't attack us outright because we'll do the same with megaspells." He casually waved a hoof at the weapons below them as the final checks were conducted. 

"Did you know those delivery frames were reverse-engineered from captured plans for balefire missiles? And the integrated targeting talismans gets rid of the need for shoes on the ground to mark the casting site." He leaned over the railing to peer down at the work surrounding the final inspection. "It's poetic justice. Pony and zebra technology in one package. With these weapons, we can wipe out military facilities, industrial infrastructure, and entire armies with a preemptive strike, and they'd never know from where the attack originated. You outfit a single squadron of ships with these weapons, and we could get rid of them all without giving the Stripes any warning whatsoever."

Adelia took a step away from her uncle. "But that also means we have to be the ones that pull the trigger first. I'm not convinced that's a good thing. Don't you think the threat alone of weapons like these will be enough to convince the zebras to commit to peace talks without having to contemplate genocide?"

"These weapons are not a threat," Stormy growled. Something in his eyes sparkled, and his earlier scowl returned. "They're the key to ending the war." The barest hint of a tight smile crossed his face before it was swallowed up by the frown. "This isn't another part of the mutually-assured destruction gambit that the analysts like to quote. One complete strike from off the Zebrican coast, and we send Roam and most of Zebrica back to using rocks for tools. Even just one ship would be enough to wipe out half of their reported stocks of missiles one salvo. The stalemate would be broken, and we would be the ones holding an ace."

"The megaspell chambers," Adelia deduced. She sat down gingerly, shaking her head. "You think we should reverse the parity of both sides having doomsday weapons by making sure Equestria is the only one holding enough of them to annihilate the other side." 

Stormy continued without looking up at his niece. "Peace talks could resume in earnest. Roam would have to surrender." His body seemed to deflate with a haggard sigh. "Then we can all go home and try to justify the cost of this war and if we actually gained anything." 

Adelia risked sidling a bit closer to her uncle. "You're still not sleeping enough, are you?" Stormy refused to respond. "Okay, forget that kind of talk for now. What about Aunt Twinkle? I haven't seen her in a while. Will she be here for the ceremony? Or that counselor you're friends with...Light Shine, I think was. You haven't seen him in a long time."

The tired stallion shook his head. "Light Shine retired from the bureaucracy after the megaspells were revealed and joined his family in Barnstable. He couldn't condone that kind of power being used for war. As for Twinkle...I don't know. We had another fight a couple of nights ago. I haven't been home since." He pulled himself away from the railing and gave his niece a waning smile. "How's your dad?" he redirected. "Windshear and I don't get to talk as much as we used to with homeland patrols from Cloudsdale getting called up more often."

"He's home with Mom on leave for a couple of weeks. She pulled out his old vegetable smoker for the homecoming." Adelia chuckled. "The house probably reeks of smoked peppers by now." Stormy smiled, and his nostrils flared as though he were inhaling the deliciously acrid string of peppers mingling with the scent of aromatic woods. Adelia noticed the look in his eye and nudged his shoulder. "You should go visit."

"Maybe after this cruise is over." Out of the corner of his eye, Stormy saw Adelia glance at the assembly of ponies congregating near the small dias that had been set up close to his office. Several rows of folding chairs had been set up in a half-moon crescent facing a short wooden stage and podium that had been erected for the event. The whole affair had been wedged into the space available between Stormy's office, several stacks of supply crates, and a sizable self-propelled crane and trailer that lay silently in the backdrop. 

"I think the ceremony is about to start, sir."

Another small smile shone through the stallion's fatigue and cynicism as he laid a gentle hoof on his niece's shoulder. "How many times must I tell you that I'm only a 'sir' in public. Otherwise, just plain old Uncle Stormy will suffice." He doffed his captain's cap and ensured it was affixed snugly to his head. "We'd better get down there then, Lieutenant. We wouldn't want us to miss the MWT representative's speech."


~~*~~


"Today, in the ongoing presence of a world crisis, my mind goes back many years to a fateful night amid another plight. It was another time when darkness threatened Equestrian peace and prosperity. A day when the whole of our nation stood frozen in fear of Nightmare Moon's return. And just like that apparition of evil, the zebra masters of Roam have made it clear that they intend not only to dominate all life and thought in their own country but also…"

Stormy sighed inwardly and, from his chair in the front row of the audience, unsuccessfully tried to use his peripheral vision to read the wall clock visible through his office window without success. An itch began to work its way along the back of his neck, and his mane twitched in sympathy. On the podium, the bespeckled pony from the Ministry of Wartime Technology paused and glanced at a timepiece produced from a suit pocket. Hope and anticipation built in the air around the ceremony attendees. 

"It appears I'm running a tad over my allotted time," he said flippantly.

"A tad?" an unidentifiable voice from within the mass of crewmembers muttered in response. A muffled chuckle ran through them, and more than a few of the guests in attendance.

The speaker grumbled to himself and put his watch away, stowing his speech papers in another pocket. "Well then, in the spirit of timeliness, which I know our military services prize, allow me then to introduce the commanding officer of the HMRS Leviathan: Commander Stormy Seas."

The speaker grinned in a self-satisfactory manner and bowed once to the gathered attendees as healthy applause broke out. He motioned for Stormy to take his place and stepped down from the podium. The applause began to die down as Stormy stood and strode up the short set of stairs to the stage, glancing back at his crew in time to catch a wink and a smile from his niece. 

Settling in, Stormy cleared his throat. The built-in voice amplification talisman squealed harshly for a moment, a slight bit of magical feedback causing the audience to wince. It died down, and Stormy let his eyes wander across the assembled ponies. His gaze flicked toward the Levithan when movement at the far end of the western catwalk, near to the giant sea gate that led to a tunnel that opened into the ocean, caught his eye. A worker in a hooded hardhat and long jacket, mostly concealed by the shadows created from a malfunctioning lighting segment, cantered across the catwalk with surprising speed and urgency.

"The loading is finished," he muttered, the talisman making his voice easily audible to all of the attendees. "No one should be up there." Most of the attendees turned to follow Stormy's gaze. Pointing to the worker in question, who suddenly picked up his pace, Stormy glanced at his executive officer. "Bowsprit, find a supervisor and have somepony..."

The rest of Stormy's order died in his throat when the sound of a wailing siren rose and fell in a steady, mournful warning. Everypony in the submarine pen froze. A loudspeaker situated near the center of the berths crackled to life and added its own buzzing klaxon. As one, the vessel's crew surged to their hooves while the civilian attendees, their faces pale with fear, looked to their uniformed compatriots for instruction.

"Emergency sortie!" Stormy shouted, the fatigue on his face instantly hardening as he moved to the stage stairs. "Everypony to your—" 

Then, in a flash of blinding light and scorching heat that catapulted Stormy off his hooves, sending a spray of fire and shrapnel shredding into the crowd, the dais exploded.

Stormy's world shrank into an unfathomable void that held him in its grip. He saw, felt, and heard nothing except the beating of his own heart. In that void, he floated, without sense or sensation, until garbled words reached for him through the throbbing darkness. He pushed against an intangible current that grew hotter as he strove against its force. Harder and harder he pushed, and more and more the heat built until it burned inside his very bones. Through a muddled wash of expanding shadows and distant flashes of color, Stormy strained until he could clearly make out two words in a familiar voice. 

"Wake up!"

Flailing against a torrent that threatened to drag him back down into the depths, Stormy swam back into the conscious world. His eyes fluttered open and immediately slammed tightly shut as a pained hiss escaped his dry, cracked lips. 

"Thank the Princesses," said the same voice that he had heard in the void.

Stormy cracked open his eyes and found himself sprawled out on his back with Adelia kneeling over him. Puzzled, Stormy attempted to rise to his hooves, but a potent combination of dizzying pain that clouded his vision, tremendous pressure on his rear legs, and Adelia's insistent hoof kept him prone.

"What...happened?"

A dull thudding boom from somewhere outside the pen shook the floor in response. "Zebras," Adelia answered tersely. "They're attacking the city, and they got inside the base somehow. We didn't see many there were, and we don't know—" 

Gunfire burst from somewhere near one of the further berths, and Adelia threw her body over Stormy, covering his exposed head and chest with her own body. Return fire answered from somewhere much closer, barking out with crackling shots in bursts of three. Glancing behind her, Adelia pulled herself up and shoved a length of lumber from the stage off of her uncle's stomach. She sucked in a breath through her teeth at what she saw.

"The ship?" Stormy asked through gritted teeth, ignoring his niece's frightened stare. "The crew?"

Adelia shook her head and refocused. "At least a dozen died in the explosion," she replied, her horn glowing with soothing, emerald magic. "Probably more. I stopped counting once the shooting started. The ship is fine." Stormy's body relaxed as she waved a diffused glow over the lower half of his body. His body relaxed slightly, and the anguish upon his face softened.

Steeling himself, Stormy hazarded a look at what had given Adelia a fright. The explosion had thrown him clear of the stage and over the top of the crane's cab. Stormy could not see what remained of the ceremony seating area because the explosion had also toppled the crane over on its side. He swallowed hard when he saw that his rear legs disappeared beneath the bulk of the cab's upper portion and part of the main boom. 

Worse still, a twisted spear of metal had pierced the meaty portion of his left haunch and had punched out the other side. He grimaced as Adelia deftly packed the edges of the wound with strips of cloth and secured them in place with the belt from her uniform. Stormy could not help but stare at the pool of blood that had collected around his flanks and mixed with oil and fuel from the wrecked vehicle. 

"How long ago?" he asked, coughing and blinking away some of the fumes from the spilled fluids.

"Not long. Now hold still, sir," Adelia said. She braced her shoulder against the cab and, straining with muscle and magic, tried to lever the machine far enough for Stormy to scoot free. The emerald glow from her horn quickly faltered, and sweat broke out across her brow. Panting from the effort, she tried again, but the crane refused to budge.

"Get aboard," Stormy said as Adelia glanced around frantically.

Ignoring him, Adelia clambered around the cab and waved to somepony. "I need help! The captain is pinned, and he's injured!" 

Stormy heard several voices shouting something, and he lifted himself up as much as he could manage. Through the boom's lattice of steel frames, he saw two of his crew come galloping at Adelia's behest. Beyond them, he could see the Leviathan's bow and the open sea gate that led to the ocean. It was still clear. More crew were scrabbling over the vessel's hull, casting off lines that held the ship fast to the shore. 

A small smile crept onto his face at the sight of his crew. Then, two thunderous retorts from an unseen rifle wiped the smile from his face in an instant. Adelia dove back behind the cab, and Stormy saw the pair of crewponies that had been galloping to his aid drop from view. They did not rise.

Visibly fighting back tears, Adelia desperately resumed her attempt to free her uncle, but, again, her magic faltered, and her hooves slipped over and over in the puddles of oil and fuel.

Another burst of gunfire rattled off the concrete walls, and Stormy waved off his niece's attempts. Painfully tilting his neck far enough to reach his collar, he bit down on the shreds of what was left of his lapel. A brass apple blossom insignia was still tenuously pinned to the fabric, deep scratches marring its surface. The scrap of uniform quickly submitted to Stormy's teeth, and he ripped it free with the pin still attached. Stormy paused long enough to wipe the pin on his uniform before he dropped it into his hoof and admired the sheen that was still evident despite the damage. 

Stormy pulled Adelia in close. He pressed the pin into her hoof. She stared at it wide-eyed, as though it were a grenade, before glancing back up to meet her uncle's eyes.

"Give that to Bowsprit. Get the Leviathan to sea," Stormy ordered with a grimace. "Keep the crew safe, but finish the mission." He pressed the pin into her hoof harder. "You have to finish the mission."

"We can't leave you here, Uncle. You're the captain. If the captain goes down, it has to be with his ship."

Stormy shook his head. "The Stripes attacked because they didn't want us to leave. They must know about the weapons. You have to go. That's an order, Lieutenant." His grimace softened. "Get to safety, Adelia. You need to be safe, so you can come back when the mission is over. Help your family rebuild."

She looked at Stormy, tears welling up in her eyes. "Yes, sir." Blinking away the moisture, she held up the badge of rank. It gleamed golden in the light. "I promise," Adelia swore, chest heaving to control her barely suppressed sobs. Then, she was sprinting as fast as her hooves could manage under the cover of rifle fire to the Leviathan as it began to slowly creep forward, dragging the still attached pier brow as it moved. 

"Everypony, get below! Diving stations!" the voice of Bowsprit yelled through the sounds of gunfire and distant explosions. 

Stormy lifted himself again to watch through the lattice with satisfaction as his niece scrambled up the rapidly accelerating brow, the small bridge squealing its protest at still being attached to a moving vessel. She leaped just as the ropes tying the brow to the ship snapped, sending it tumbling into the murky waters. With a sigh of relief, Stormy let himself drop to the floor.

Another detonation, this one far louder than the previous one, resonated through the subterranean pen. A spiderweb of cracks raced across a section of the concrete dome overhead, and Stormy weakly followed their advance through half-lidded eyes. Where the myriad of cracks met, they widened, and gray dust rained down across the trapped stallion. Stormy covered his face to keep the worst of the dust at bay, but the assault on his throat and lungs sent another tremor of weak coughing through his body. 

"Hautatoroka."

The strange word sent a shiver down Stormy's spine, and his body went rigid. He turned as much as his pinned leg would allow to find a zebra standing only a couple of meters away. It was wearing the same long jacket and hooded hardhat as the figure that Stormy had spotted on the catwalk just before the explosion. 

The zebra was standing on its hind legs in their unusual combat style. It cradled a rifle in its hooves. The stripes along its exposed legs and fetlocks had been enhanced with sweeping whirls and cryptic patterns. Its face mainly remained obscured by the hooded flaps, but Stormy's own hard, green eyes locked with cold, blue irises when they glanced in his direction.

"Wewe ni mwingine," the zebra said in a cool baritone to the trapped stallion, swinging the rifle's folding stock extender into place, and reached into his jacket. From an interior pocket, the zebra pulled out a small egg-shaped item attached to a thin cylinder. A glyph mark was carved into the egg, and it shone with a very faint orange hue. Smoothly, the zebra slid the cylinder into the muzzle of the rifle barrel. 

Stormy followed the zebra's steady gaze as the barrel with its deadly attachment was leveled at the Leviathan, whose bow had only just entered the tunnel that would lead to safety. As Stormy heard the zebra muttering something unintelligible under its breath, a quiet chant of sorts, the stallion's hooves scrabbled against the wreck of the crane truck. One hoof connected with something hard and loose. Stormy curled his hoof around the object and hurled it with all the strength he could muster without looking.

The broken work light somersaulted through the air and clanged against the zebra's rifle as the intruder squeezed the trigger. The zebra recoiled as the egg whooshed from the barrel and flew off towards the ceiling.

Dropping his rifle, the zebra dove for cover at the same time Stormy turned his face away and covered his ears. Blistering light exploded across the ceiling, and a deafening pressure wave drove the air from Stormy's lungs. Curling flames crawled across the domed ceiling, blackening everything their grasping fingers touched. Stormy opened his mouth to scream, but nothing could be heard over the detonation.

The carnage lasted only an instant. Dust rained down from every pore in the concrete ceiling, and the sight of the egg's explosion was obscured in a sticky, brown smoke, but the writhing flames dissipated quickly. When his vision cleared and his ears stopped ringing, Stormy levered himself partially upright with a pained grunt and was rewarded with the sight of the sweeping tail fins of the Leviathan disappearing into the dark waters and gloom of the tunnel, escaping to the freedom and safety of the sea. 

Clearing his dry throat, Stormy spat out a thick wad of dust and saliva. Then he heard a sudden snap followed by a grating noise almost directly above him. Blinking dust from his eyes, Stormy focused on the spot above him where all the cracks had merged earlier. There, outlined by the fissures' dark lines that had been scorched by the flames of the egg's detonation, was a large, irregular piece of concrete slowly sliding away from the dome.

"No, no, no," Stormy grunted, his hooves slipping as they tried to find a better position with which to try and pull himself free, the damage to his legs be damned. He pushed, pulled, and strained till fresh blood flowed from his wounds, but the mass of metal refused to release its captive. With a final, sharp pop, the chunk of concrete separated and plummeted. With a terrific crash, the piece of dome slammed into the truck, and a single cry was all Stormy had the chance to utter before he was drowned out by the tortured squeals of bent metal.

The wreck, now tilted at a severe angle beneath the concrete block's weight, settled, and the submarine pen was momentarily quiet. Stormy slowly opened his eyes, and he blinked in amazement. The dome ceiling section that had ruptured and fallen had smashed into the machine's lower cab and front wheels, narrowly having missed landing directly atop his legs. The portion of the cab and crane mechanism trapping him had been lifted and was held in place by the concrete's weight.

The stallion gingerly tried to move his rear legs. Through a burst of fresh pain that caught his breath in his throat, Stormy felt his right leg gently kick. The other did not even so much as twitch. Chancing a glance down at his legs, Stormy immediately looked back away, groaning at the sight. The right rear leg was intact, but his left was a mess. Keeping his eyes from drifting to the punctured muscles, Stormy took several short, gasping breaths. He grabbed his useless leg, braced the other leg against the floor, and pushed. 

"Gah!" he screamed briefly before clamping a hoof over his mouth. Muffled cries escaped his tightly sealed lips as he scooted, inch by inch, out from under the twisted wreckage of the truck. Once clear, he lay sprawled out on the ground, taking slow, ragged breaths. He was free.

"Thank Luna and the stars," he said gratefully. 

"The stars of Nightmare Moon?!" 

Stormy rolled away from the voice just as a striped hoof slammed into the concrete where his head had been. He bit back a yelp of pain as another hoof kicked him in his side. The stallion flopped over onto his back and tried to roll again to get his hooves under him just as a hefty weight bodily pinned him to the ground.

"That pepo mchafu!" The zebra had ditched his jacket and hardhat, and the rifle was nowhere to be seen. Though less stout than his earth pony opponent, hard cords of muscle bulged across the zebra's body as the two wrestled. Stormy's furious counter-blows managed to land a few strikes on his attacker, but the two were not evenly matched, and the zebra had the advantage of leverage.

From a narrow sheath that Stormy had not noticed, the zebra drew a stiletto and plunged it down towards the pony's heart. Stormy grabbed the zebra's wrists and halted the blade's deadly descent with inches to spare, but the zebra leaned in and pressed down with his full weight.

"The last days are upon you, mzushi," the zebra taunted. The thin blade crept closer to Stormy's chest. A corner of the zebra's mouth pulled up into a smug smirk when Stormy's muscles trembled, and the tip closed the gap another quarter of an inch. "But you will not be alive to see them."

Stormy's eyes were glued to the knife. His breaths came into short, pained gasps as he resisted the weight pressing down above him, but the tremors in his legs announced their inevitable failure. 

Hastily glancing at his impaled leg, Stormy's eyes briefly locked onto the sharply tipped spear of metal that protruded from his haunch. His face contorted into a grimace at a thought, and he grunted some unintelligible curse under his breath. Baring his teeth, Stormy eased his resistance to the zebra's weight a fraction. The attacker, sensing the change, leaned further into the thrust. 

"You will be consumed by the stars of your dark princess," the zebra mocked when his face was close enough for Stormy to smell the unusual mixture of herbs from his attacker's last meal. "And your soul will rot in the place you call Tartarus."

Stormy snorted and gave the zebra a toothy, lopsided grin. "I look forward to seeing you there." 

The zebra's constant pressure faltered at the retort, and Stormy jerked the zebra's wrist to the right. The blade slid into Stormy's right shoulder, and he growled through clenched teeth. The zebra froze and blinked, surprise clearly plastered across his face. He did not see Stormy's free left hoof grasp the base of the metal shard that stuck out of his leg and yank it out with a sickening squelch.  

The spear-like tip plunged into the zebra's throat, all the way to Stormy's hoof, and the earth pony twisted the shard. The look of surprise on the zebra's face turned into pained shock and alarm, even as he tried to pull his knife free of Stormy's shoulder, but Stormy kept a firm grasp on his enemy.

The zebra's life spilled out across Stormy's chest and neck, splashing his face as the invader's efforts to continue fighting faded with every passing second. Finally, the light in the zebra's eyes dimmed to gray dullness, and his lifeless body slumped atop Stormy's chest. 

Gulping down air, Stormy lay on the hard floor with the dead body sprawled across him for several long moments. When he had his breathing under control, Stormy rolled the corpse off of him and wiped the blood from his face with a sleeve. He shivered and pressed his lips together, fighting against the jerking spasms his gut was making. 

Swallowing hard, Stormy reached down and stuffed all but one of the makeshift bandages Adelia had wrapped around his leg further into the puncture, staunching the fresh flow of blood. Taking the leftover strip, he tied them down around the wound and repositioned the belt to just above the ragged hole. Taking several deep breaths, he pursed his lips and bore down on the belt, tightening it into a tourniquet. His cry echoed without restraint.

With the bleeding in his leg stopped, he moved to the knife in his shoulder. Stormy yanked the blade out and muttered his thanks when the thin wound oozed rather than gushed. He discarded his jacket and used a piece of his sleeve to stop the flow. Then, he lay still and rested. 

A slight tremor ran through his spine, and his right ear twitched. Stormy hissed and shook his head. He made to rub his temples with a hoof but stopped short when he saw both were covered in blood. Stormy's breath quickened. His ear twitched again, his eyes unfocused, and his gaze grew distant. Shaking his head again, Stormy shut his eyes, and he hugged his still working legs to his chest. 

"I'm not there," Stormy whispered to himself, his breath coming in short gasps. "This isn't that Leviathan." A low, throaty sound, barely audible, rasped past his lips. It rose and fell slowly, then returned with slightly greater volume. Stormy hummed a few simple notes to himself. "That song," he muttered to himself. "The one she sang the first night after we met." And then, he began to quietly sing to himself.

"As I walked by the dockside, one evening so fair,
To view the saltwater, and take the sea air.
I heard an old fisherpony, singing a song.
Won't you take me away, colts, my time is not long."

Stormy's breathing slowed. He opened his eyes and softly continued.

"Wrap me up in my old coat,
No more on the docks I'll be seen.
Just tell my old shipmates, I'm taking a trip,
And I'll see them someday in that pasture, Evergreen."

He unfolded his legs and took several deep breaths, taking care to keep his eyes from wandering to the dead body that lay next to him. After a few more moments, his muscles relaxed, and the twitch in his right ear ceased.

Another detonation, somewhere in the world above, sent more sheets of dust raining down from the concrete overhead. Sharp cracks pierced the air from somewhere in the distant gloom. Stormy eyed the section of concrete that had already broken free from the ceiling with unease. He rolled over onto his stomach to face the gaping gash in his office wall that had been opened up by the explosion during the ceremony. 

"My terminal," he grunted. "Maybe it's still connected to the network." He hauled himself to his hooves and gave the body of the slain zebra a final glare. After pulling himself upright, his hobbling hoofsteps were accompanied by the sound of his useless leg scraping across the ground. The distance was not great, but injury and fatigue slowed Stormy's progress. 

Rounding the wreck of the crane, Stormy passed through the wreckage of the stage. The floor was charred and cracked where the bomb had gone off, and only splinters remained of the dias and podium. When he reached the remains of the seating area, Stormy paused long enough to let his gaze sweep across the victims of the explosion. The bodies of the civilian attendees lay strewn and heaped atop one another. Mixed in among them were the darker uniforms of his own crew. He spared only a brief moment to allow himself to mutter his thanks to them.

As he finished, Stormy's eyes lingered on a uniformed body that was lying directly in his path. He was a young stallion, probably only a year or so out of the Academy. Despite the carnage around the body, his face was unblemished save for dust and the blood from his wounds. His face even looked peaceful. Many of the others whose bodies lay quietly on the floor were not as recognizable. Stormy stepped around him and gingerly picked through the minefield of lifelessness. He hummed to himself some more, the volume rising and falling each time his eyes found a familiar face. Blinking away a bit of moisture, the stallion approached his office door.

Keeping his gaze level, Stormy trod towards his office, every window shattered from the explosion. The door had been violently ripped from its hinged and hurled into the room. Many of the fragments had smashed through cabinets and pictures. Scattered piles of the wood, drywall, and plaster that made up the wall's interior lay everywhere. Shards of glass littered the ground everywhere. Stormy limped forward, avoiding the worst of the glass, and crossed the debris-strewn room to his mostly intact desk. 

The lone living pony dropped heavily into his desk chair, which was missing the upper portion of its backrest, and winced with the impact. He jabbed the power button on his terminal, and the ruggedly-built machine whined and ticked. Within seconds, the smudged screen hummed to life. It was still functional, if dinged, scratched, and slightly askew. Blinking a few times to clear his head, Stormy keyed in a request to connect to the central command bunker's terminal. 

As the terminal waited for a reply to its request, Stormy pulled open the bottom drawer of his desk and, muttering a sigh of thanks, retrieved a small tin box emblazoned with a trio of butterflies across the lid. Inside was a gauze roll, bandages, tape, a small potion flask, and two full syringes. Stormy reached for the potion, broke the seal, and gulped it down. He then grabbed the two needles and quickly jabbed them into his leg just above the tourniquet.

Relief flooded Stormy's face, and he let the first aid kit fall from his grasp. Then, his computer terminal beeped twice. The connection request had timed out. Stormy keyed in a command to try the connection to the auxiliary command center. That, too, was denied. Slamming his hooves down upon the keyboard, Stormy cursed at the machine.

In response, the terminal chimed. A message had been received, but not from headquarters. The timestamp showed it had arrived just before the ceremony had started.

His shallow breath caught in his throat when he saw from whom it had come. Stormy numbly tapped a key to display the text. There was also an audio file attached to the text. He pressed another button, and the voice of a mare crackled to life over the tiny speakers.

"Stormy, right now, you're probably being bored to tears by some speech, so I hope hearing this helps out once you get it. You have an important part to play today: accepting your first mission on the Leviathan. And as much as I wish you were here with me instead of in that cramped base, I want you."

"Twinkle," Stormy whispered, a sad smile on his lips. He slumped in his chair, and the spring protested its abuse once more with an irritated squeak. "My star." The stallion closed his eyes and let the voice of his wife fill his ears. 

"What I can't be, however, is there with you right now. I'm sorry, but it's still hard to sleep without seeing and hearing everything that happened to us on the last ship that carried that name. I-I don't even want to think about what might happen to me if I had to even see that name again. It's... there's something wrong with the world, Stormy, and it's more than just the war. It's all this...hatred that's been growing and festering for so many years. It started on that ship all those years ago. I'm sure of it. You never used to call the zebras by that horrible slang word until after that mission."

His smile faltered, and it stretched into a frown. "It's hard not to hate a Stripe when they've been trying to kill us for this long," Stormy retorted, another explosion outside echoing his sentiment.

"All I want is for you, for us, to be safe and happy. I should never have let you leave the other night after the argument, but I got scared. The possibility of not being able to live up to the image you built up around me was too much. I panicked, and I lashed out. That's not an excuse, but I'm sorry, and I hope you can forgive me. And since you plan on retiring after this tour, I...I can start making plans. Real plans. For us."

Stormy's eyes flew open. The frown vanished, and he grunted, leaning forward in his chair with a sparkle of desperate hope in his eyes.

"This will be a chance to start over. Once you get back, everything will change. I'll see you soon, Stormy. Oh, and before I go, there's something else that I shouldn't have left unsaid last week. It's a little dramatic to wait like this till the end, but let a mare have her moment. I knew the answer to your question right after you asked that night. I really did! But I didn't have the courage to say it until now." 

Stormy's breath quickened, and he swallowed hard.

"I know you said to forget about it when you left the house, but I couldn't do that. I want what you want, dearest: a real family. So, if you still want to, the answer is yes! I do want to have a—"

The screen and audio abruptly jittered, hissed with static, and froze as somewhere outside, a sharp crack followed a quaking boom, bringing down more of the ceiling outside his office. Bracing for another attack, Stormy waited. And waited. The abrupt, eerie silence was deafening. Puzzled and wary, Stormy pushed back from his desk.

He was suddenly thrown to the floor by a force that struck the submarine pen with the strength of an earthquake. The air suddenly grew warm, rapidly heating up with every passing moment. Then, Stormy saw it: a sickeningly green glow filtering in through the cracks in the overhead concrete. An emerald haze began to coalesce in the air with the dust and smoke. 

"Balefire bombs," he croaked, coughing up a wad of phlegm and blood. "They actually did it. They've blown it all up." Sweat beaded up on Stormy's face and body as the heat rose to a sweltering temperature. The hairs on his coat and mane tingled with strange, foul magics. His stomach twisted and writhed with building nausea. Stormy pulled himself back into his chair, leaving a bloody smear on the wood and panting from the exertion. He turned back to the screen and reread the last paragraph, burning the words into his memory just as megaspells and balefire seared the world above. 

"I'm sorry, Twinkle. I'm sorry I couldn't make the world safe for you." He reached over and put a trembling hoof to the terminal screen, not even trying to staunch the flow of tears that streamed down his face. Clutching his stomach and wounds, Stormy tried hissing the words he needed to say through clenched teeth. "You would have been the best mother. I lo­ve—" 

The world abruptly shook though it was a toy tossed about by a dog, and Stormy was again hurled to the floor. A great roaring scream, like that of a thousand ponies crying out in terror and anguish, drowned out the rest of the world. A sickly green light that matched the sun for intensity pierced through the damage in the ceiling. An identical glow emanated from the waters of the sea gate that led to the open ocean. 

The heat came again, and Stormy found that he could barely form words in his throat as he felt his life being burned away in the angry magicks of balefire that writhed overhead like a crazed serpent.

"Wrap me up in my old coat."

As Stormy picked up the song again, the words growing steadily more difficult to vocalize with each passing moment, an eerie hush like that of a tomb fell over the pen. He coughed, and bright blood sputtered past his lips. 

"No more on the docks I'll be seen.
Just tell my old shipmates, I'm taking a trip."

A final, savage explosion thundered overhead, and this time the wretched green blaze came pouring into the sub pen through fissures and openings in the concrete dome. Stormy watched the flames, hungry for another victim to consume, lick down towards his body. The world roared—lurid, green light and stifling heat reached for his limp body like a ravenous scavenger. And as the necrofire and radiation raced down his throat and over his flesh, Stormy, weeping yet defiant, finishing the final verse.

"And I'll see you someday in that pasture, Evergreen."
> Alicorn: B is for Blessed: The story of Nightseer by starwars90001
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

They say we were blessed with the gift of life, that the fact we exist at all is a miracle in itself. That life is about living to its fullest to not waste such a beautiful gift. I agree with this but not in the way many view it. Many were raised to see family and friends as the true blessing in life, I was raised to see value in conquest!

“The meaning of life is conquest! To kill your enemies, the conquer of their mares, to enslave their children, to take their bones as your trophies! For we are blessed by Balefire!” This was the motto of my tribe, this was the principal I was raised on since birth. And it was with these ideals that my tribe was the deadliest force in the ruins of Fillydelphia!

For nearly a century we fought any who dared challenge our tribe. We raided the area surrounding the city like a wind of death! We were the fear and envy of many tribes, many tried to dethrone us but all fell beneath our hooves! For we were the Balefire Herd!

It was this tribe I was born into as Rad Light. Daughter to the tribe’s unicorn priestess Singing Light, from an earlier age I was tasked with learning the history of our herd, to magically sing it for future generations of our greatness. Spending my formative years listening to nothing but our great songs, Iron spear the Talon slayer, Rad Filly the eater of mutants, the list come go on. But I was not just invested in the tales I wish to go create my own.

My mother forbids it, saying “The role of Priestess is not to create stories but to tell them.” But I was blessed with a father who wanted his daughter to become a great hunter like him. It was with this idea that I took on many of his hunts in secret, oh how I made him proud with my kills but my greatest hunt ever was one of those Steel Rangers.

I’d heard of them from our stories. A tribe of Steel clad armor ponies who fought with a zealot of knights of old, with weapons that could kill whole warbands. We had fought them before, one of their temples sat on the outskirts of our city, always conducting raids into the ruins for treasures of the old world.

I saw them as the perfect prey to get my name song into our stories. And I spawn tales of hidden treasures in the ruins, letting my lies spread to other tribes, knowing full well they’d leave it alone in fear the Steel Rangers would take it. And like ghouls to the radiation they did.

They came in a pack to the old hospital I made my hunting ground, their overconfidence showed in the fact they all split off from each other, a big mistake. The first victim fell into a sinkhole I created, his steel armor being his downfall as he fell into a flooded room. The second fool trotted right into boom plates I had set up around the building, her armor protected her from their fire and smoke but one unleashed a torrent of energy that made her armor fall dead. A knife between her armor undid her. The last was waiting for me, he became aware of his fallen brethren’s and had sealed himself in a ward hoping I would attack. What he didn’t expect was for me to use my magic to tear the very floor from under him. I could hear the bones in his body breaking from within his armor, I jumped on him like a radrat on a corpse, and with magical knives, I tore into him. 

I returned to my tribe a conquering hero, their bones my trophies wore on me like fine armor. All praise me, even my mother couldn’t find disappointment in my victory. They named me Rad Light the Steel Ranger Hunter and engraved my victory into the tribe’s legend.

So great was my fame that I rose to become both leader and priestess of my tribe. I led hunts and song tales to our foals. I rose our tribe to greater highs than before, even Steel Rangers knew to fear us. I brought the blessing of power upon my tribe, a glory we’d never known before!

However, all that changed with the arrival of one pony, one singular stallion turned my world upside down. Red Eye. He came to our city seeking the richest of the old world, hoping to restore it to its former glory. 

He came to the tribes promising a new future where they lived in a beautiful metropolis that rivaled anything from before the balefire burned the world.  Our tribe shunned him, we of the Bale Herd embraced the wasteland and all its bountiful beauty, we saw no need to end it. But other tribes fell for his words like a listener to a story.

His influence spread throughout the city like poison, tribe after tribe joining him. He brought Griffin mercs, gangers, and technology we'd never seen into our world. But notably, he brought Alicorns with him.

They spoke of unity through their goddess, how salvation in the wastes could only be found in them. 

I read the writing on the wall, they would take our city by force if they couldn’t have it by words. I gathered my tribe and all tribes that didn’t listen to the stallion’s lies then wage war on them. We fought them hard, we fought them smart, fought for our future. But nothing we could do stood against those Alicorns.

They were beings more touched by Balefire than we were, they did not simply live in the radiation of the wasteland but grew stronger from it. Even when we did slay one they came back smarter than before, no tactic we tried worked more than once.

They defeated us, burned our homes, took our foals, and enslaved us to their whim. Red Eye and the Alicorns brought the ruins of Fillydelphia to heel.

We were the first stepping stone to rebuilding the great city. They broke us little by little, everyday my tribe suffered either in their newly acquired factories or in the cater of Fillydelphia, the resting place of Balefire. I watched as my tribe slowly faded into the dark stacks of the city, becoming no different than any other slave they brought in.

I was made to fight in their pit, turned into entertainment from the days of grinding work. I slayed many opponents with the reward of being recruited into Red Eye’s army. I had long given up, being nothing more than a puppet for my masters. Stripped of my priesthood, my tribe’s song forgotten. I suffered indignities and fell into despair!

In my defeat, I slowly realize errors of my ways, reasons my tribe was defeated simply because we were not blessed by the kiss of Balefire. No, that was the power was in the hooves of creatures like the Alicorns, they were born to inherit this wasteland. And all others were meant to bow to them.

So when promises of salvation through Unity came I took it as my chance to escape this hellish city and find new life. I surrender myself to the alicorns, I let them take me to their Goddess, I wanted to come face to face with the ruler of the wastes.

In a valley in the west, I came across true power. The Goddess was a being who I could never in my life imagine existing.  Every word she said commanded respect, every motion caused power to radiate from her, even my own thoughts were controlled by her. She was a true god, not those fake Goddesses that so many wastelanders worship.

All I had to do to become one of her flock was surrender my mind, body, and soul to her. So I did,  fell into her grand haze consumed by her loving embrace. They cease to exist as my mind was ripped away from me. It was like dying but then being reborn, it was an enlightening experience.

I awoke to my mind being one of many in a sea of minds, we were like puppets that the Goddess commanded. I could feel the emotions of hundreds of us and them me, we were all one being as if the existence of self was just a concept. Whatever the Goddess did we did, whatever she thought we thought, there was no I only we. It was heaven in the truest sense, the idea of being self again was a hell we hated. 

The Wasteland was ours for the taking, we deserve it as we were the superior being. Even if our bodies were killed we lived forever in Unity, no enemy could fell us no matter how many times they tried. Only one thing stood in our way toward greatness, our physical bodies could only be female, our great race can not last long without males.

Only the tribute of Unicorn followers kept our race going. But our supplier Red Eye hasn’t sent us tribute in months, he denies us, he demands our kind serve in his ranks. He plots to kill us, to destroy our heaven and make us his slaves. We could destroy him but he and the empire he was building served its purposes.

He told us that he would help us. All we had to do was clear the sky for him. But we needed the corpse of a dead princess first, so it was with gritted teeth I was sent on a quest for the future of our kind.

I traveled to the heart of the Wasteland, Canterlot, to find the dead remains of our former princesses. There in the ruins of the kingdom, I found only a screaming pain, a pink mist had taken the heart of the land, its power magical and horrible.  It, it cut me off from the heaven of Unity, I was myself again. I was alone in the city of the dead, I wasn’t the only one, I came across many of my sisters who became lost to the mist.

But I was determined, I would complete my quest and bring about a great future for the superior Balefire race. I fought through the ruins, killing machines and mutants alike until I came upon the throne room of the former princesses.

As if by cosmic luck, there at the foot of the throne itself sat the perfect preserved skeleton of a princess. I was just to collect the skull but a part of me buried by the will of the Goddess came crawling to the surface. I dawned the bones as armor, it felt like I was returning home. Memories came flooding back to me, I remembered who I was, the ways of my tribe. I wore the bones like a trophy as a reward for my conquest of this dead city.

Our next task was simple: Enter the towers controlled by the pegasi then use the corpse princess to remove the cloud covers giving the Wasteland it’s first sunlight in two centuries. It was an easy task for an Alicorn slipping past their defenses. These fools prided themselves on the idea that they were untouchable up here but we would rip that disillusion from right under their muzzles. 

Or so we thought. When we arrived at the shield that protected the tower we learned an annoying truth. We could not enter, try as we might the shield forbid us from freeing skies There was something off about that shield, it was like it actively refused our entry as if it hated us.

Our objective failed, we fled from the skies, and the future of our being put into question. Would Red Eye keep denying us tribute? How would we secure the future of our race?

Then the answer came like a blessing from the heavens. The Black Book, an ancient tome of eldritch magic that would rip apart a pony’s very soul. Its power had to be ours, with it creating new Alicorns would be a cakewalk and so much more.

And so the Goddess sent me to Canterlot, she released me from Unity knowing full well I was a believer in our cause, that I would succeed where others fell. I took up the quest to save our herd, the those touched by Balefire would conquer this Wasteland whose stood in our way!

I fought my way back into that city, destroying arcane machines that guarded the halls of the old government. The undead mutants that infested this place were no match for one of the Balefire touched. Even the screams of the mist could not stop me.

And finally, I came upon it, it was a thing of beauty. It's jet black cover inverted me to read it, The book was written in archaic zebra glyphs that spoke to me. It whispered in my ears, spoke in my mind. “We can help you.”

Yes, they could, with this the Alicorns would rise to become unbeatable. We would be gods with this power, no living being would dare challenge us with this. 

“No living creature will challenge you.”

And then it showed me the truth, showed who I used to be, how everything was stolen from me by Red Eye and the Goddess. How I became nothing more than a servant to the wills of others, how my story was sung in the legend of my tribe only to be destroyed by others.

“We can give you back what you lost.”

Then it opened my eyes to the future. A future where I rose up from my conquerors, where I led the Alicorns to victory. I would become the Wasteland’s new Goddess and destroy the false one, I would retake the lands of my tribe for my new tribe.

Looking down at the skeleton that became my trophy memories not of my own flooding my mind. I saw images of the night sky, the moon, all of Equestria. Wouldn't just become a princess but a goddess of the night! I will rule the world!

I am Nightseer, Goddess of the night, and Blessed with the power of Balefire!
> Alicorn: Old Stomping Grounds by Trooper
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

My two sisters and I awake to the voice of our mother in our head. ({CHILDREN! FLEE!!!})

My eyes pop open and beside me I see the familiar blue and green alicorns I have worked alongside of for decades. Their eyes have just opened also. We feel the fear and dread in our mothers’ thoughts and the wash of panic that comes through Unity.

({FLY MY CHILDREN!! SAVE YOURSELVES!!})

We look at each other, and I hear Blues Star ({What is happening to our Mother?” What is going on?})

I shake my head and tell her, ({I don’t know, I think something is happening at home.”

Choo Choo is on her hooves first and looking around at the cave we are in, and heads towards its entrance. Blue Star is up behind her and I gather what few supplies we have taken with us for this mission and then run to meet them.

Through Unity I can hear so many of the ponies I have been with, screaming in fear. I keep hearing random thoughts,

 ({Zebra? Here?})

({BOMB})          

({Must run, Mother Orders it!})

But what gets me most is the burst I feel of ({ENCLAVE SCUM IN HOME})

The two I find waiting for me at the cave entrance. I hoof Choo her medic saddlebags and her weapon as well as Blue Star hers.

We place our equipment on quickly and then take off in our normal formation with Choo in her normal center forward position of our inverted V. We are flying as fast as we can when suddenly We see a bright flash of light, and are temporarily blinded. I feel the emotional burst of fear and then nothing come over me.

Unity has been broken.

Our Mother, the Goddess is, is, is dead. I feel my pain, but I notice I no longer feal anymore emotion from the others. For the first time in two centuries, I am alone with my own thoughts. I sense my own self.

 I tell the other two, ({Stop and Hover! Let your eyes adjust}) Which they do immediately and once our eyes readjust, we can see it in the far distance. The slowly rising column of smoke and debris.

I now begin to remember who I once was fully again. I know I was once known as Quick Frost. I remember my home, how I used to call Emerald Grove, my Old Stomping Grounds to my friends in the army. Then it fully hits me, I, I used to be a stallion.  I have not thought about that in over a century.

I look at Blue Star and find my voice and begin to speak, “Are, are you ok?”

She shakes her head and replies, “I, I am not sure.”

Then I hear Choo Choo begin to giggle like a little filly. She looks at us and says, “I have wings? Cool!”

Blue Star then asks me the most important question, “What now?”

I shake my head in uncertainty and then respond by shrugging my shoulders and telling her, “I don’t know, maybe we should go home.”

Both Choo Choo and Blue Star look at each other and then me. Finally Blue Star asks, “Where is home?”

I grin at her and tell her, “Well for me my Old Stomping grounds are Emerald Grove.”

They look at each other and then Choo Choo Asks, “Where is Emerald Grove?”

I wave a hoof dismissively and tell them, “It is by the city of Manesville, and not far from Dairyanne.”

They both look at me and ask, “Where?”

I laugh lightly and tell them, “I am used to that. Everypony in the army asked me that.”

Choo then shyly says, “I don’t know where my home is?”

Then I ask Blue Star and she tells me, “Sorry Quick, but I can’t remember mine either.”

“So shall we all go to mine then?”

Blue Star then says something I had not thought of, “How much do you think it has changed?”

I hesitate as I think about all the differences in the world now from the one back then and I am stunned by how much must have changed. I begin to wonder about my family. My parents, my little sister. I even wonder about the one mare I used to date. I suddenly feel a twinge of pain as I remember her breaking things off with me after I had joined up. I remember her looking at me and saying, “I am sorry Quick, but I am already worrying about my brother in the engineers. I do not want to have to worry about a future husband that way.”

I simply nodded in reply and without realizing it I do the same thing and even say aloud, “Oh, ok, I guess I understand.”

Then I feel a hoof on my shoulder and Blue Star tells me, “We need to get moving again, we do not want to be just hanging in the sky when the sun comes up.”

I nod my head and ask them, “Should we go to Emerald Grove?”

I hear Choo Choo giggle again and she says, “Yeah, it sounds like a real jewel.”

I see Blue Star smile slightly at the childish joke and we both realize that Choo is not quite the mare we had been used to for all these years. She has lost a lot of her memory it seems with the breaking of Unity.

Blue Star then puts a hoof along my cheek and smiles at me as she says, “I think we should. At least it would be a start.”

With that, the decision was made and we begin to fly in the direction of Manesville and Emerald Grove.

 


__0O0__


As we fly toward the Manesville area I began to remember more and more of who I really was. It is rather unsettling to come to the realization that who you thought you were, is not exactly who you are. Having once been a stallion and now a mare was no real news to me as even in Unity, I still felt a bit off and it took me almost a century before I fully felt comfortable with this adjustment.

No, it is the memories of my colthood and my coming of age. I remember tilling the fields and harvesting crops. Sitting on our front porch in the evening watching the sun set on our fields across the road. Exploring the old cave just down the creek from home. I laugh at the memory of me and some of the other colts skipping school to go watch them build the new General Carriages factory in Manesville.

I also remember my high school marefriend, it hurt to have her turn her back on me when I told her I was entering the army. I was too embarrassed to tell her I was drafted and it was not my choice. I remember receiving my draft notice and being sent to the front, once wounded too badly to be a front-line soldier, I was assigned to work light duty jobs, such as escorting military trains.

I remember the sirens going off and helping to shuttle the others inside the buildings at Maripony. Then I remember being told we had to jump into the vats full of chemicals or die. I was terrified and saw those who did not jump in, being thrown in, so I jumped.

 I remember my last thoughts before becoming part of Unity was what will happen to my family?

I now know they must be dead, but I have to make sure that their bodies were taken care of. If they are still in our old farmhouse, I will bury them in the family cemetery. As I remember all this, I do not realize I am thinking out loud and my sister Blue Star asks, ({What if they are now ghouls?})

I shake my head and I tell her, ({NO! I will not even think of them that way. If they have become one of those feral monsters, I will put them to peace. But I will not think of them that way unless I have to.})

From my other side I feel Choo Choo put a hoof on my shoulder as she says verbally, “I understand, but at least you remember your family. I don’t even know if I had one. Much less where they may have ended up.”

I sigh out loud and I think to myself, “What have we become?”

Soon Choo Choo sees a fire burning in the center of what looks like a campsite. I tell the others, “Perhaps we should be careful approaching it.”

Choo Choo nods her head and tells me, “Ok, I will go in first.”

I watch as she disappears and enters the camp.

I do not see her so much as I notice things in the area she is in moving. Soon I notice one of them pointing in her vicinity. I feel myself begin to tense up. Then I hear one yell, “Hays, thays something over there.”

I hear one of them call back, “Yous just drunk again. Go back to sleep.”

“Nos, really I saw something Black Rose.”

“Just like last time, right?” the other replies.

Suddenly Choo Choo appears right next to him and while I cannot hear her thoughts from this far since Unity ended, I hear her say, “Hi!”

Both of them plus several others turn towards her and I hear one of them scream, “ALICORN!” as they open fire with a shotgun. Others either shoot at her also, or they begin to try and run away.

Choo Choo is shot once, but she quickly throws up her shield and begins to fall back on her old training. Within minutes it is all done. We let those who ran away do so. Then I notice something cooking that smells really good. While we don’t really need to eat, I decide to try some as I want to just enjoy the flavor. As I get ready to levitate a ladle of the chunky soup to my mouth, I feel Blue Star put a hoof on me and she says, ({Sister, stop!})

({But Blue Star, it smells so good and I bet it will taste so good.})

She shakes her head and points towards a pile of bones nearby and I now know I do not want to eat it. ({Thank you, sister.}) I quickly tell her.

She smiles at me and tells me, ({No Thanks necessary, I would have wanted you to stop me also.})

Then we hear Choo say out loud, “Could one of you help me. I, I can’t remember how to wrap a bandage on this wound.”

Blue Star and I both look at her, then each other. I see the worry on Blue Star’s face as I feel it too. Choo Choo was our combat medic as well as our team leader. What all has she lost?

I go over to help her and as I look down at the ponies that we killed I notice that they are not dressed like most. Some have spikes mounted on leather armor. Some carry guns, while others only spears or clubs. I also notice that they all have knives though. As I look at them in fascination, I remember one of Red Eye’s minions had called ponies such as these, Raiders. I decide to try and say the word out loud and cautiously and slowly I pronounce it out loud.

Choo Choo looks at me and asks, “What’s a raider Quick Frost?”

I point at the bodies and tell her, “These are. Look at how rough they are dressed and all the weapons are not really well cared for or they are homemade. I heard that ponies like these are prone to violence. Mother always had us kill the ones like these we met.”

Blue Star nods her head, “Yes, I remember that. But she only had us do that if they got in our way. She did not want us wasting time hunting them down.”

I nod my head and I use my TK to take the soup kettle from over the fire and I gently set it next to the pile of bones. Then we begin to search to see if they had anything we could use.

As we search, I notice Choo Choo has found a stuffed pony. I smile as I watch her briefly hug it and put it in her saddle bag.

Soon after this I tell the others, “It is not safe here, we need to find a place to rest for an hour or two.”

We walk away from the now empty campsite and once far enough away we take flight. As we fly, I keep an eye on the ground for a good place to rest. Finally, I see an old barn and we decide to chance it. I go inside first and when I find it is safe, I wave the others in.

We go up into the now empty hay mow. The roof is still fairly intact over this area and it is heavily shadowed so others will not notice us if they chance by. Eventually we all lay in a group. I put my wings up and over both of them and once they are asleep. I too do so, taking comfort in the close proximity of my sisters and knowing I am on my way home. Whatever it may be like there now.


__0O0__


We rest for a couple of more hours than we truly normally need to. However, I notice that myself as well as my two sisters both feel lethargic and have lost interest in most things. What keeps us going is our goal of reaching my old home.

As we fly later that day Blue Star asks me, “Quick Frost, I can no longer feel or hear our other sisters, do you think we are the only survivors?”

“No, I am sure we are not. Like us there were other teams out on missions. But I think what ever happened to Mother and Home made it where we cannot feel them, or even hear them normally. Blue, I noticed I have to be fairly close to hear your thoughts now, and I bet you two are going through the same thing.”

I watch as both of them nod their heads in agreement. Choo Choo then asks, “How much further?”

I shrug my shoulders as I tell her, “Honestly Choo, I am not sure. The next major set of ruins we see we should stop and maybe I can figure it out.

Later that day we begin to see the ruins of a medium-sized city in the distance. I notice the river flowing by and how that while there are some boats traveling this portion of the river it is strange that most of them have no ponies visible on deck. Once we get close enough, I know why. I can feel the magical radiation as it washes over me and my two sisters.

I feel its effect upon all three of us and I cannot help but enjoy the feeling of strength and healing I feel from it. Finally, we see what looks like the remains of a sign near the edge of the ruins. Once we land, we walk up to it. I knock some of the dust off of the sign and I read, The Forest City.

I turn to the others and tell them, “I know where we are, we have gone too far. Now we need to head that way,” I point with my hoof and continue, “Only a day or two and we should be there.”

Blue Star looks around and says, “Quick, can we rest here? I mean it feels so nice and I don’t think we will have to worry about anypony bothering us.”

I shrug my shoulders and then tell her, “While I would like to, I bet we run into some ghouls here.”

She looks around disgustedly and tells me, “I had forgotten about those things. Why could not the Goddess have destroyed them all.”

Choo Choo laughs lightly and replies to her question, “Maybe she really wasn’t a goddess.”

I watch Blue put a hoof over her muzzle in horror as she says, “Choo, how could you say such a thing.”

I do not mean to, but I answer, ({Well, she has a point. Otherwise, the destroyer would not have been able to do what she did.})

I see Blue Star look down sadly, “You too? I guess I have really been an outsider ever since I replaced your old green.”

While I cannot really feel her emotions, I see her display them enough that I can swear I do. I go forward and tell her, “Blue, we have been working as a team for over sixty years. Sometimes isolated from unity. You are a part of this team. I never even knew you ever felt like you were not. YOU ARE ONE OF MY SISTERS. And I love you.”

I see her brighten up and though she seems to have a tear in her eye, she smiles at me and tells me, “Thank you. I needed to hear that.”

What really surprises me is that when she smiles at me, my heart begins to beat faster. I shake my head to clear it and I tell them, “Ok, we will find a place to hole up and rest. Maybe we can even find someplace interesting.”

I see Choo Choo get excited at this. Her smile widens like a young foal’s and she asks, “Candy store or library?”

I smile back at her innocence and tell her, “Maybe Choo. Let’s see what we can find.”

As we enter the town, we all three look back and forth at the ruins. As we go closer towards the center, I hear Blue Star ask, “I wonder why they used a balefire bomb on this place?”

I nod my head and tell her, “Blue, if I remember right this place made lots of bolts and screws.”

Choo Choo then asks, “Why would they care about them?”

I sigh as I realize how much Choo has lost. Then I ask her, “Choo, do you remember what held your train together?”

I see her think and I see her eyes fly open as she says, “Quick Frost, I remembered. We used bolts and screws to hold them together.”

I nod my head, and then I tell her, “Most of the advanced machines, including those for the war used them. They killed this town to make sure that equipment could never be used again.”

I see her think a bit, then she says, “Quick I thought Fillydelphia made all that stuff.”

I shake my head sadly at this and I tell her, “No, they made more parts and machines than any other city, but this town, made more bolts and screws than they did even.” I think briefly and I have a flash of a memory return to me and I tell her, “In fact that is why they built the carriage plant in Manesville. They could ship the screws and bolts right up the river.”

I see Blue smile as she then says, “So we are not far at all from your old stomping grounds, are we?”

I smile back, “No, not at all, Oh, look, an abandoned Sparkle Cola Plant. Maybe they have some left still.”

I hear Choo Choo giggle and watch as she happily trots off to the old plant.

As we enter, my eyes quickly adapt to the darkness. I smell the decaying scent of ghouls inside. I call out, “Sister, be careful I smell danger.”

She skids to a stop and I see her horn begin to glow and suddenly she disappears. Right after this I hear a growling sound behind me. I look and I see a ghoul wearing a Sparkle Cola shirt and hat behind me. It’s eyes wide and wild looking.

As it begins to charge me, I quickly jump into the air and I blast it using a magic projectile spell. I watch as they tear through it and it still keeps trying to bite at us.

There are only a hooffull of them in here and we make quick work. Finally, we come upon one who is not only cowering in a corner, but I hear him begging us not to destroy him.

I step between Choo Choo and the ghoul. I am not sure why, but I feel…pity for him? I turn to Choo, “Let him go.”

“But Quick Frost, if we do that, he may attack us.” She whines back to me.

I shake my head, “Choo, look at him. He, he is still a pony in there. If he does not attack us, we should let him be.”

I see her think about this and she seems like she is about to argue when I tell her quietly, “Choo, what if he was someone you once knew, or loved. Would you, could you destroy them?”

I see her stop and sit down hard, “I, I don’t know Quick Frost, I had not thought of that.”

Finally, I tell him, “Get up, as long as you do not attack us, you are safe.”

I see the stunned surprise on his face as he asks, “Really, do you really mean it?”

I nod my head and tell him, “Yes, I really mean it. We mean no harm, but only will protect ourselves.”

He nods his head, “Thank you. I have seen little mercy and compassion over the last two hundred years. I never expected it from your sort.”

“Nor had I realized that your sort was sometimes still cognizant. Do you still remember your past?” I ask in curiosity.

I hear a harsh dry laugh and he says under his breath, “Breathers.” Then he looks up at me and tells me, “Of course. Why wouldn’t I if I have not turned feral.”

“I am sorry, but you must understand, my sisters and I, we have all lost some of our memories since Home was destroyed.”

“Home, you mean you three all came from that place that had the big explosion a while back?”

I nod my head, “Yes, we did. We not only lost our homes, but our connection with Unity to the others.”

I see him nod his head. Then he asks, “So where are ya heading to now?”

I sigh and I tell him, “Manesville and Emerald Grove. Those used to be my old stomping grounds when I was a colt.”

I see his jaw drop open and he cautiously asks, “You were once a stallion? Ma’am, how did you change?”

I realize I am becoming much more comfortable talking with him then I ever expected. For once a pony that no longer fears us. It is refreshing so I tell him, “First sir, if I am going to explain this to you, please call me Quick Frost. My two sisters are Choo Choo and Blues Star.”

He looks at them then me and nods his head, “Well ma’am, just call me Soda Bottle. I used to be a mechanic here when it ran.”

I smile slightly, “Do you live here now?”

He laughs that dry laugh, “No, not really. I tend to stay in a place called Dead Quiet. We ghouls trade some with a few of the ponies in the Co-op. Most of them and all of the cattle want nothing to do with me and my kind. But it helps to fill the time.”

“What is the Co-op?” I ask.

He grins and tells me, “Yeah they really did keep it under wraps didn’t they.” Then he explains how it was a series of communities that worked together to reclaim old farms and to survive. Then he tells me, “I bet the Co-op defense force would love to have you join them.”

I shake my head and tell him, “Maybe, but to be honest, I had my share of fighting back in No Mare’s Land as well as under the Goddess. I just want to go home, maybe pick up a plow and begin to grow things again. Bring life back into the world.”

I see him smile, “Well Quick Frost, I am glad to have met you then. I really hope you can find that farm too, just,” he pauses, “Just be careful who you introduce yourselves too. I mean you all seem decent now that I have talked to ya a bit, but many folks just will not take the chance.”

I smile at him, “Now that we have gotten to know each other and understand each other a bit, let me tell you my story.” Then I begin to tell him about my life, both before and after I joined Unity.

When I finish, I hear him laugh again mildly. Then he looks at me and tells me, “I am sorry, I just cannot imagine becoming a mare after being a stallion.”

I nod my head in understanding as I tell him, “Believe me during the times I was isolated by myself from Unity, I felt awkward at first. It took me almost a century to feel comfortable this way. I am sure my old buddies from the army would never have understood this.”

He laughs and tells me, “Yeah, I can understand that, I don’t think my old comrades from the factory would have understood the way I am either. At least you are something nice to look at.”

I feel myself blush as I have never had anyone say such a thing to me. Part of me is offended that he would say such a thing, but part of me actually likes the idea that someone thinks I am pretty. I look at my sisters, and for the first time I realize that they too are both pretty. I find myself particularly attracted to Blue Star and her dark green coat, which goes so well with her emerald green eyes. But I know I could never say such a thing to her.

Eventually he tells me, “Look, I keep a small stockpile of already bottled Sparkle Cola here. I come back and pick some up every so often as I am the only one who knows the combination for the storage room door. But if you mares would be willing to let an old ghoul, get you a drink. I would be pleased to have one with you.”

I see Choo Choo quickly nodding her head and I can see the desire for some in Blue Star’s face. So, I tell him, “Sir, we would be honored. Besides, maybe you can tell us more about the trip to this Co-op and other things we need to know.”

He grins and tells us, “That would be my pleasure.” After a brief pause, he grins and asks, “Hay, would you three be willing to help me carry some extra bottles back to Dead Quiet? I mean I would pay you some and I would really appreciate the company. Especially with some of Red Eye’s slavers and the local raiders between there and here.”

I hear Choo Choo answer, “Sure, can I take my payment in Sparkle Colas?”

He smiles at her as one would a young child and tells her, “I think we can work that out.”

We spend the rest of the night in the old bottling plant and come morning, we begin to escort Soda Bottle back to his home in what he calls the Co-op. As we leave, I feel excitement, but I am also very nervous. What will we find when I return to our old farm? What happened to ma, pa and my little sis? What will I do if the farm has been what Soda calls reclaimed?

We help him fill up two carts as well as his saddlebags. Both Blue Star and I harness ourselves in so we can pull the carts. As I finish helping Blue put on her harness, she looks at me surprised and says, “You did that like you have done it before.”

I smile at her and tell her, “Blue, growing up I wore a harness many times. Most often for pulling a cart into town, but several times a year I would be hitched up to the family plow during planting season and to the harvester when the crops were ready to harvest.”

 I pause as I think about these old memories and I guess I begin to smile then look sad because Blue asks me, “Quick, what are you thinking about?”

I try to smile again as I tell her, “How much I miss those days. I miss working with my hoofs. I miss the bite of the plow into the soil.”

I see her laugh lightly and she says, “You know, you sound like an earthpony.”

I grin and tell her, “Yeah, I guess so, but you have to understand, Pa was an earth pony and Ma was a unicorn. In fact, my little sister was born an earthpony like Pa.”

I see her smile sadly at me. Then she says, “I would have liked to have met them.”

I nod my head, “I wish you could have. I think they would have liked you,” I pause and I look at Choo Choo, and continue, “I think they would have liked Choo also.”

She laughs lightly, then turns briefly serious as she says, “I can barely remember my parents. I really do not remember any siblings though.”

Right after she says this, I hear Soda Bottle ask, “You two about ready?”

We both answer simultaneously “Yes sir.”

This gets his eyes to go wide briefly and then he laughs lightly, “Ok, let’s get going then.”

He has Choo start to lead us out and once we are on the streets, he closes the door and locks it behind us. Then he trots up in front of Choo and tells her, “Ok, I will lead you from here.”

That night we rest for an hour alongside the road just short of a place called Capon. Soda Bottle tells us, “We better keep our distance and set a watch. That town ahead is full of ferals and while they won’t bother me, they will come after you ladies. I heard one of the Co-op patrols even lost a pony or two in there recently.”

I am surprised by this as it means that they may have patrols this far out that could find us when we are not expecting them. “Soda, what happens if the Co-op army finds us?” I ask.

He looks surprised at the thought and tells me, “Well, I had not thought of that. If that happens let me do the talking. Same thing goes when we get to Dead Quiet.”

This makes me rather nervous but instead I simply nod my head and tell him, “Ok, I trust you.”

As we rest, I take the watch as I really don’t need much sleep. As I sit there in the dark, I am still trying to figure out why we have all been so tired and blasé feeling since Unity was broken. I wonder who all survived. There were so many of my sisters that I was always in contact with. Now, I am lucky to have my two sisters. At least they are calmer and less militant than so many of the others.

After a bit of thinking, I catch myself wanting to cry as I think about all that has been lost. I remember having visited Capon a few times as I was growing up. Ma had a brother who worked in the foundry there. I look over at Soda Bottle and think about what he told Choo. I wonder if my uncle and his family became like Soda? Are some of those ferals related to me? If so, what would I do?

So many questions and thoughts pass through my mind. Soon I notice that it is becoming lighter and while I can not see the sun due to the cloud cover, I notice it is not as dark.

Once the others wake up, we continue on. Most of the trip is in silence. One of the few times any of us say anything is when Soda Bottle tells us, “I am taking you in the long way, that way we can avoid checkpoints. Some of them Breathers really hate us ghouls, and I am not sure how they would react to you three.”

We nod our heads and continue on. I notice as it becomes later in the day when we are getting closer to Manesville as I see the old Pegasus port on the southwest side of the town. Then I can see and lightly feel patches of radiation from the crater that is where the old railroad switch yard was.

Eventually, we begin to reach some built up buildings and Soda stops us and tells us, “We wait here until dark. Then I will have you finish pulling to Dead Quiet across the river. We have to cross that bridge over yonder and I don’t think we want to do it in broad daylight.” We all agree and we settle down to wait for dusk.

Finally, that night we carefully cross the bridge. All three of us keeping our wings tucked down. As we cross the river all I can think of is how close to home and where I grew up, we are. Soda has us pull up outside one of the old taverns that, while it is missing part of one wall and a section of roof, is still in fairly good shape. One of the patrons inside comes out and sees Choo Choo. I see their eyes go wide in surprise and they step back and I hear the ghoul say as the begin to kneel, “Princess, forgive me, I had no idea you were here.”

I feel the confusion in Choo Choo’s mind and I send her a mental image of Princess Luna. I then hear her say back, ({Thank you, I remember her now. I had forgotten her.}) Then she looks at the surprised ghoul and says, “It is understandable for you to be surprised. Please, rise and keep my presence quiet for now.”

He nods his head and stands again. “Thank you, Princess. I will do as you command.” And I watch as he quickly walks away.

({That was fun!}) Choo Choo says to me.

I slowly shake my head in amusement and tell her, ({Don’t get used to it Choo.})

Then I turn to Soda Bottle and I tell him, “Sir, if you are done, we should get going so I can get to Emerald Grove while it is still dark.”

He smiles and tells me, “I understand, thank you for the help as well as the company. I guess I should get this stuff inside. Oh, and Choo Choo. Take one of the cases of soda for your pay, ok?”

She grins like a school filly and gushes out, “Thank you so much.” Then she surprises him and us as she gives him a hug.

Finally, he tells us, “I hope to see you three again. And Quick Frost, I hope you find what you are looking for.”

I nod my head and tell him, “Thank you Soda, and I really appreciate your giving us a chance as well. I only hope others will too.”

With that we go our separate ways. The three of us fly away into the dark night sky and once across the river I see the old roads I used to follow to and from Manesville to Emerald Grove. Once we are there, we land in a field about a mile from my family’s farm. We then walk slowly toward it  

In the light through the windows, I see a cow and a bull. The cow is doing dishes and the bull looks like they are drinking coffee. Off to the side in what was once our machine shed, I can see several ponies are living in what has now been turned into a bunk house. I realize that while I am back on my old stomping grounds, I can never truly go home.

I feel a surge of disappointment as I am sure the cattle and ponies here will not understand. I look just to the north of the house; there I see the graves of my ancestors. I wonder if Ma, Pa and my sister are there. But now I am afraid I may never know.

Blue Frost puts a hoof on my shoulder and asks, “What now Quick?”

I sigh and I tell her, “I am not for sure. I know just a way down the creek is an old cave that me and my friends used to play in. Maybe we can find shelter in there.”

I see Choo Choo grin and I hear her say, “Maybe we can make it a house even.”

I smile and try to cheer up as I tell her, “Maybe Choo, maybe. We will have to see.”

They follow me to the cave and as I enter, I notice that after a short distance it seems someone or something is living there. As we get further in, I smell it before I see it and I tell the others, “We need to leave there is a dragon in here.”

I see Choo Choo’s ears go forward; her eyes are wide open as she trots further into the cave. Both of us have to hurry to catch up with her. Just as we do so, she disappears.

I look up and I see a large blue dragon who is wearing glasses that is fully engulfed in reading a book in bed.

She has not noticed us yet and I am just about to tell the others mentally that we need to leave when I see Choo Choo reappear and I hear her ask the dragon, “Whatcha reading?”

I shout out “Choo Choo, be careful Dragons are dangerous!”

The dragon looks at me and I see a slight bit of fear in her eyes as she says, “Excuse me, but who are you? And why are you in my home?”

I sigh at her question as I see Choo Choo climb further up on her bed and begin to look over her shoulder at the book she is reading. Then I hear Choo Choo say, “Oh, I remember this one, I really liked it.”

With that I decide to introduce myself and my sisters and I tell her why we are here, in particular why we ended up in her home. Finally, she says, “Oh. By the way, my name is George and it is good to meet you.”

“It is good to meet you too George. However, I guess we should get going.”

I see her think with a claw under her chin. Then she says, “Ya’ know, it is kind of lonely here for me. If you want, you can become my roommates.”

I smile at her and I tell her, “Thank you George, I think we may take you up on that offer. At least for now.”

“Oh, one more thing, keep your hoofs off of my scrolls and books.” She tells us with a smile and a tilt to her head.

While I am rather nervous about having a dragon for a roommate, it seems that Choo Choo is fully comfortable with it. I am concerned though as she is very enthusiastic about becoming friends with the dragon. That first night is rather strange for me as I lay next to Blue, but I see Choo Choo sleeping on the dragon’s bed with her mouth hanging open. I also notice that while she reads and Choo Choo is asleep the dragon takes a single claw and gently uses it to give scratches to Choo much like one would a dog or other pet.

Finally, come morning I wake up and find George has gone already and I see Choo Choo wandering around the cave exploring it. When she gets home, George tells us about her day and what all has been going on.

We continue this routine for almost a week when one night George comes home and tells us about flying with a couple of pegasi who have shown up in Manesville. At first, I do not think much of it, but then I realize it means the Enclave is here, or some of those they have driven out. I think the word for those ones is Dashites. But I am not sure if I am remembering it correctly. I ask George about it and she smiles at me and tells me, “I really don’t know. I never thought to asks what they called themselves other than their names.”

Over the next two days we see less and less of George, but what she tells us when we last see her does have me worried.

“Quick Frost, I think you three should stay inside the next couple of days. Things could get a bit rough soon.”

“What do you mean?” I ask.

“The Cadet’s said something about a gauntlet being thrown down and a challenge to the Enclave. I really don’t know the details, but all the cattle and ponies are nervous and I have been asked to spend the next couple of nights in the stable.”

I nod my head and once she goes to bed for the night I walk outside the cave and find myself wandering down the old dirt roads and what remains of the paths from when I was a colt. Soon I find myself walking along what were the fields and forest of my family’s farm. I have so many questions for those who live there now, but I am afraid of how they may react. As I walk by the cemetery where so many of my kin are buried, I feel a sigh escape me and I long to just sit there and talk to them, but the land is no longer ours. I continue to walk and see several more of the farms I knew as a colt that have been recovered. I also see several that have fallen into severe disrepair. Finally, I make it back to the cave just before daylight.

As I walk into the cave George passes me on the way out and I tell her, “Be careful George. If there is a battle it is nothing like what we used to see in the movies or read about in books.”

I see her stop and she twists her head, “I understand, I have been in a few fights. I even have seen some major battles as a young one. Please keep hidden for a bit longer. I may be able to introduce you to some ponies I know and get it so you are at least safe here.”

I nod my head. “Thank you, I will.”

Then I watch her fly off. As she is flying away, I see Choo Choo come trotting back from the stream and she is just about ready to take off and follow George when I tell her, “Sister, not now. Soon perhaps, but not yet.”

The next day it happens. I am inside the cave with Blue Star when Choo Choo comes running inside and tells us, “Sisters, they have arrived.”

“Who has?” I ask.

Then I begin to hear the sound of an artillery piece being fired and the familiar sound of a raptor’s return fire. I heard it too many times during the war and I had hoped to never hear it again. The three of us go outside of the cave and climb on top of the hill and begin to watch the battle in the distance. I feel Choo begin to get excited and I hear her say ({Oh, time to play!})

Out loud I say, “No Choo, stay here.”

She turns to me and refuses to speak aloud. Instead, she sends to me both her frustration and asks me, ({Why not?})

I sigh and before I can tell her anything, Blue Star tells her, “Sister, both sides fear us right now, if we go into that fight, they will attack us.”

I feel Choo Choo’s building excitement and aggravation at not being allowed to do anything. Then I see a squad of power armored Enclave troopers heading towards my old family farm. From watching them at a distance I know the family there does not have the weapons or skills to fight off these kinds of troops. Then I see one of them point towards us and the squad splits. One section of them is heading towards us.

Beside me I hear Choo Choo yell “YES!” and she disappears as she heads into the fray. Blue Star is beside me as she and I leap into the air to fight them. As she begins to cast spells, I throw up a shield around us.

I watch as one of the pegasi fliers that is heading towards Emerald Grove and my old farm is suddenly stopped and I see his wings fold as he is hit by something hard and he goes limp. Those near the Enclave trooper stop in mid air and begin to look for the attacker of their comrade. As they do this, I see another one simply vaporize as if being hit by a magical energy weapon.

After two more of them go down the remaining members of the squad turn and begin to fly as fast as they can back towards their ship. With that Choo Choo approaches us close enough that I can hear her thinking. I tell her, “We need to get back into the cave before someone sees us.”

We do this and begin to wait for George to return. It is a couple of days before we hear from anyone. When we do, I first hear the three knocks that George has set up a signal that someone other than her is coming and has her permission to be here. Then I hear a mare’s voice call to us, “Hello, George has sent me.”

As she comes in, I see Choo Choo once again disappear. Once the mare sees us, I can see the shock and fear on her face. Then she says, “Hello, I am Mollygirl. George told me to tell you she is ok, but her glasses are broke so she cannot return home until they are fixed.”

I suddenly see the mare jump as if startled and put a hoof to her mane. Then I see Choo Choo reappear next to her and hear her say, “Made you jump.”

I am exasperated when she does this. This is so not how you make a first impression. Then I tell Choo Choo, “Now is not the time to play sister.”

We then make formal introductions and talk briefly. I tell her about my colthood here then I hear Blue Star tell her, “We have come here to try and find peace. We do not want any trouble.”

The red mare with her yellow and black mane and tail smiles sadly and tells us, “Blue Star, I think you will be able to find peace here. Unfortunately, we just had to fight a large battle to protect the Co-op, so some may not be as friendly as others. But If you would like I can see what we can do to quietly introduce you to the local communities.”

As she is saying this Choo Choo disappears once again and I soon hear a young mare and colt running toward us and the little filly saying, “Whoa, Auntie Mollygirl, are these really alicorns, really?” 

As they are asking this I see Choo Choo reappear behind them and yell out “Boo!”

The results of this, are to say, less then pleasant and as Choo Choo laughs, I hear the mare Mollygirl asks, “Do you have a towel?”

While we are talking this Mollygirl tells us about how we can become members of their so-called Co-op. She quickly tells us, “Things are starting to change here in the Co-op it seems. Normally we have to work in the fields for a year to earn membership than you can make a claim to recover a farm if you are interested.”

I at first only hear her talk about having to work in the fields for others for a year and am angered by it and tell her, “You think I, would be willing to be a slave? How dare you.”

She calms me down after this “Quick Frost, it’s not like that. We do not have surfs or slaves or any of that. We work on the farms to earn what we consider a sweat equity. You can leave anytime you want. It just means you have to leave. The other way is to join the military, but I do not think you are interested in that.”

Once I realize what she has said, I realize that the idea of having my own farm eventually does appeal to me. However, I have no further desire to be a soldier. I then tell her, “No, we are not interested in the military. We have done enough fighting for several lifetimes.”

I see a sad and haunting understanding in her eyes and I watch as her ears slowly droop before she straightens them back up and tells me, “I can understand that. I will talk to some higher ups and see what I can come up with for you.”

Shortly after this they prepare to leave, but not before Choo Choo remembers that she once had foals. But she has no idea what happened to them. This occurs just after I have stopped Choo Choo from taking off for a flight with the foals.

Mollygirl then looks at her right foreleg and notices the time on the PipBuck she is wearing and tells us she needs to go and that the foals need to get home.

I want to talk to her for a few more minutes privately so I tell my sisters, “Blue Star, I want you to help Choo Choo take these two home, please be discrete, and come right back.”

They agree and once they are enroute to their farm I ask her if the foals will keep our secret. I see her think about it and she tells me, ““Yes, for a little while at least.”

That is good enough for me and I have her take a brief message to George for us as well as agree to have her return for a visit with us again sometime.

A couple of days later Choo Choo leaves for a bit and when she returns, she has Mollygirl with her. Mollygirl offers to talk to the cattle at my old family farm for us to see if I can visit the cemetery as well as perhaps find out what happened to my family. Finally, she says, “Ok, let’s do this then. I will approach them and talk to them, if they give permission then I will call you over.”

I nod my head and feel a sense of hope that they will allow me to, but I do fear they may say no. The cattle I used to know always seemed to be a very conservative and cautious lot. So, with the way myself and my sisters are now, I fear the answer.

Once at the farm, my sisters and I hide behind some bushes near the end of the driveway to the farmyard while Mollygirl goes up to the house and knocks on the door. I can not clearly hear what they are saying but I look over to the side and I see Choo Choo is peaking around the bush and waving at them.

I do not know weather to be angry at her or just laugh. Instead, I settle for mild amusement. Then Mollygirl waves us forward and we approach them. I am still nervous about what they might say, but I steel myself and go forward. Once we are close enough, I stop and I say, “Sir, Ma’am, I appreciate your having been willing to at least meet with us, my name is Quick Frost, the blue one is Choo Choo and the green one is Blue Star.”

The bull looks gruffly at us and mumbles something along the lines of “Good to meet you.”

Then he asks, “What can we do for you three?”

I hopefully tell him, “Sir, I would like to visit my family’s cemetery. Also, when you reclaimed the farm, where there any pony remains that you had to clear out, if so, what did you do with them.”

His expression gentles slightly and he tells me “I can understand that, I would feel the same way. Now, when my family started recovering the farm, we found three bodies in the cellar. We figured they were part of the family who owned it before, we buried them up in the little cemetery there,” as he points up the hill.

I let out the breath I had not realized I was holding and I fight back a tear of relief. Then I tell him and his wife, “Thank you, and your family for taking care of mine. If you do not mind, I would like to visit them for a bit.”

I see him relax as he tells me, “No, if they are your kin, then please feel free to visit them any time. Family is very important to us.”

It is then I notice his plow shaped ear tag and I tell him how similar it was to my old cutie mark. We talk a bit more and he offers to me to come help plow some if I want, once I am done visiting my family.

After this my sisters and I follow the once worn path to the cemetery and I find the newest looking graves that only say unknown Stallion, and Mares, from the last day. I know who they are, but this is enough for me. I sit down at their graves and I introduce my sisters. Then I tell them, “I am sorry it took so long to visit, but a lot has happened.” I tell them about how I have changed as well as about my relationship with my sisters and Unity. Finally, I tell them, “Ma, Pa, Sis, I really miss you, but I will visit more often now that I have come back to my Old Stomping Ground.”
> 1000 words: Hello world by Sir Mediocre
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

The day began for the two the same way as the last four: Hot, sunny, and nothing in sight but salt and sparse rocks unto the horizon. To the south, there was salt. To the west, there was more salt, and dirt. To the east was sand, and that left north.

To the north, there was a chance.

The two, carried by three good legs and two empty stomachs, met the day the same way as the last four.

They walked, one lean and scrappy and limping, the other on his back beneath a ragged square of cloth, gangly and scrawny, and barely able to raise his little head. One didn’t talk, for his throat was too parched; one didn’t know how. Dust and blood sullied the coats of both.

One had bled, and one had come from blood.

The two walked, one carried by the other, out of the rocks that had kept them hidden from the baking midday sun, and met the day the same way as the last four. They waited until the fire above had lowered itself in the west, and set out in the cooling dark.

The day began the same as the last four, but the night brought something new.

It brought a rumbling in the earth, and the limping colt thought for a moment that he had felt an earthquake; he thought, for a moment, that he had witnessed something unique.

The rumbling grew, but not in the way the ground might before splitting asunder; it built slowly, and with it came a shape from the dark. Points of light showed great wheels, and claws, and guns.

The colt looked at the metal giant rolling across the parched, moonlit earth and knew terror.

He didn’t run. There was nowhere to go.

The giant came closer, its true enormity revealed. Then, a sun burst to life from out of the rumbling dark, and the giant stopped in the broad tracks it left across the salt.

The colt took a half-step backward in the swath of harsh, white light, and the little life on his back made a whinny of distress.

“Wait!”

A mare called out, her voice made to thunder as if from some unseen mouth on the metal giant. From an opening on the giant’s side, between the wheels, she darted forth and soared toward the colt on wings of midnight blue.

She landed nearby and trotted across the salt, and the colt felt something he had not felt for far too long.

The mare was short, but her wings accompanied a horn, and a long, wavy mane of magenta. “What are you doing out here, kid?” A large bottle floated in a cloud of bright, emerald green magic and opened as it came near the colt.

The colt ignored the bottle for just a moment, opened his cracked lips, and voice dry as the salt under his chipped hooves, said, “Can you nurse?”

“Can I nurse?” The mare trotted closer, and she looked up at the scrappy colt’s desperate eyes, and then at the little figure on his back. “How long since he last had anything?”

The colt shook his head, and the ache of thirst nearly made him fall. “Four days. Mom’s dead. She… she never had the chance to feed him, and I haven’t found anything he could eat… he… he’s my baby brother…”

The mare touched a button on the collar of her barding. “Carbide, prep the Sturnidae with the booster rig. Night, we’re going back to Cliffside. Got a newborn here, extreme dehydration, starvation. Colt’s in bad shape, too.”

The short mare came closer and forcibly pressed the bottle to the colt’s chapped lips, and then levitated a second canteen toward the little life on his back. “I can’t nurse,” said the small mare as the gangly little foal drank the precious water, “Not right away, but we can feed him something else. Don’t worry. Your brother will be fine, and so will you. What’s your name, kid?”

“Tin Snips.”

“And your little bro?”

He knew, then, what he had not known for four days.

The colt began to laugh, and tears left salty tracks down his cheeks. “I guess he needs one, doesn’t he?”




The Sturnidae, Tin Snips found, was a craft that flew low and fast above the salt flats, held aloft by magic and propelled by engines that spat cones of white-hot fire.

But for his little brother, the Sturnidae wasn’t fast enough, said the small mare, and she stood at the rear of the cargo hauler, wearing a tether attached to her horn, and from the device spilled a roaring plume that sent the humble hovercraft speeding across the desert faster than anything the colt knew, while Carbide, the pony made of metal, stood behind the arrow-shaped wind screen, steering the Sturnidae carefully around rocks and ravines of the sparse scrubland.

A grand plateau loomed under the moonlight in the distance, and from its top spilled a glittering waterfall. Tin Snips might have found it a marvel, once.

After four days of salt and merciless sun, he was more grateful for the cool water in the canteen between his hooves, the sheltering wing of the startlingly large indigo mare that rode the Sturnidae with him, and most of all, the bottle of pureed fruit that his baby brother suckled on, where he lay by his sibling’s side, wrapped in a linen blanket.

“Talk about déjà vu,” said the tall mare, easily audible inside the clear bubble that surrounded the Sturnidae and protected them all from the dust and wind.

Tin Snips looked up at the electric blue eyes and solid black mane. “What?”

The alicorn smiled down at the scrappy colt, then back at the small mare. “I met her not too far from here, about the same way we found you. Trying to cross the desert, half-dead… about your age, too.”

Tin Snips looked at the small, blue mare, pouring forth glaring fire behind the craft. “Who is she?”

“She’s my wife.”

“Oh.” Tin Snips nuzzled his baby brother’s back, and the foal looked up from his meal, eyes filled with wonder. “I wonder what we should call you…”

After four days of dying, Tin Snips knew hope.
> 1000 words: Companionship by Kaipony
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

It was purring. The damn thing was sitting there in the half-frozen muck of the downtown Vanhoover wastes, and it was purring at me. 

“Mrraaackk.”

Portions of the cat were shriveled and twisted in a manner in which I was very familiar. Two milky eyes ringed with jaundice peered up at me questioningly over a trio of broken whiskers while its hairless whip of a tail stood proudly erect. Patches of mottled white, brown, and black fur, and calloused sores covered its gaunt skin that split in places as the animal took a careful step forward. 

I slipped my knife back into its sheath—who wouldn’t have drawn a weapon upon hearing something snuffling around in a heap of filth and garbage—and spat the taste of its foul wrapping out of my mouth. I remained still, waiting for the cat to run off, but I must have waited too long for the animal, this ghoulish creature with whom I felt a strange kinship, boldly approached me to sniff at my filthy, cracked hooves and decaying jacket. 

“Um...hey there, little guy,” I croaked. 

“Mrraow?” 

Deciding that I was not a threat, which I wasn’t, with only a knife and half-empty pistol to my name, it rubbed its cold, lumpy body against my leg and purred even louder. It was a sound I barely remembered, let alone expected to ever hear again. I felt my tense muscles relaxing while the ghoulish feline wound its way around my forelegs, rubbing its patchy, rotten fur against my own poor excuse for a hide. I slowly knelt down and the cat gave my nose a sniff and bumped its head against me.

“You’re awfully friendly.” 

The feline gave a tortured approximation of a chirp and sat down in front of me. It looked up at me with expectant eyes, and its tail idly flicked in the muck. Then it leaned back onto its hindquarters and pawed at the air. I chuckled dryly, noticing how the paunchy girth of the cat slid down and provided a hefty base upon which to balance. The lumpy roll of uneven fat was such that I assumed the cat would need to rock itself forward many times to gain the necessary momentum to come back down on all fours.

A memory bubbled up to the surface like a pocket of gas trying to escape the cloying grasp of a swamp. It was difficult to place, with an accompanying sensation like that of pulling a hoof free of sticky mud. I sifted through the feeling, searching for whatever it was that was trying to rise to the surface, but all that coalesced was a faint image.

From the corner of one eye, something gray and shriveled skittered across the rusted lid of a trash bin. Before I could turn, it launched itself at my face. I twitched, but a pudgy blur slammed into the streak of gray with a simultaneous yowl and screech. I lurched to one side and again yanked the knife from my coat. But there was nothing for me to sink the blade. 

Looking down, I felt my heart slow its irregular pounding upon seeing the ghoul-cat’s gnarled teeth clamped down on the quietly struggling body of an emaciated radrodent. The rodent’s oversized incisors gnashed and snapped, but its movements quickly slowed, eventually twitching one last time before it shivered and lay still beneath the growling bulk of the undead feline.

The cat stood and licked its lips. Then, it picked up the carcass in its mouth, marched over to me, tail and head held high, and deposited the rat at my hooves. Stepping back, the mighty hunter looked up at me expectantly.

“For me?” I asked.

“Mrraarckk.” The cat’s tail flicked and waved slowly. “Rakkaww.” 

“I guess you’re right.” I chuckled. “I’m not much of a hunter.” Not wanting to appear ungrateful, I put my knife away, scooped up the carcass, and tucked it into the emptiest of my bags, taking care not to squish into anything valuable. The cat purred again and rubbed itself against my legs; our two decimated hides rasping against one another’s.

“You want to come with me?” I asked, voicing a thought and hope that bubbled up in my mind. It had been a very long time since I had had anyone to talk to or just keep me company. “I had one once,” I continued. “A pet. A very long time ago. Her name was…I—I can’t remember.” As though sensing my difficulty, the cat leaned into my legs and Pawed at my hoof.

“I guess you’re hanging out with me now. What do you say to that, um….” Radiation had malformed almost every part of the cat’s body to the point I could not tell whether it had once been a male or female. A problem with which I was far too able to empathize.

“How about…Fluffers? Mr or Miss, your choice.”

The cat chirped. The noises that rasped up from its chest were more like the sound of somepony grinding gravel in their hooves, but I swear the damn thing tried to smile at me as it did so.

“Fluffers it is, then. Do you want to—oh!” Without prompting, the cat leaped up onto my back and made itself at home just behind my shoulders.

“I think you and I are going to get along just FINE!” Sharp needles of pain prickled along my back as the cat kneaded my roughspun jacket, its claws easily piercing the material and finding my hide. “Less claws there, buddy,” I said, though Fluffers, as expected of a cat, ignored my demand. “How about we head home and find you something better than a mutant rat to eat?”

The cat licked one of my malformed ears and settled in for the ride home. I did not fight the grin that spread across my face. Giving my new pet a quick nuzzle, we turned and marched through the frozen muck of Vanhoover together.
> 1000 words: Synthetic by nyxOs
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

The humid air just outside of town rang with laughter, echoing through the ancient, mossy cyprus trees that towered above. Around a small fire pit sat three ponies, lounging in cheap plastic lawn chairs. Mosquitoes and moths flitted around the edge of the clearing, discouraged by the smoke but tempted by the laughing meals and the light respectively.

Empty beer bottles clinked as another was tossed into the pile, which was collecting next to a rusty old shotgun with the name “Bug Spray” crudely carved into the stock. Shrimp, a skinny unicorn clad in a worn, baggy hoodie, listened as his friend Citrus carried on.

“... And to this day, he’s convinced it was a radgoose!” He guffawed as his joke came to a close, drawing some chuckles from Brook. She sat adjacent to the others, telekinetically stirring the last few dregs of her bottle. Shrimp smiled and stared into the flames. The laughs faded slowly, giving way to amused, wistful sighing. Citrus and Brook exchanged a brief, knowing glance before addressing Shrimp.

“Hey, Shrimp, uh…” Citrus began, hesitantly. “What’s going on with you lately?”

Shrimp turned his attention from the fire up to the two friends across from him, raising an eyebrow. “Huh?”

“Since you came back from Neigh Orleans, you haven’t, well…” Brook interjected, gesturing towards Shrimp. “You haven’t really been acting like yourself.”

“What do you mean?”

“You’re… you’re way too quiet. I haven’t heard a joke out of you since you’ve been back, y’know?”

Citrus added, “Mostly on account of you avoidin’ us most days.”

Taking these statements in, Shrimp pursed his lips and shook his head. “Oh, it’s just… y’know. I’ve been tired lately. Trip was exhausting, didn’t go as smoothly as I‘d hoped it would.”

“That’s a little vague,” Brook muttered.

Shrimp scowled. “Wait, are you actually accusing me of something?”

Citrus swallowed, his jaw taut. “Now, look. We’re not…”

“Shrimp would be straight with us, not this quiet, wishy-washy shit.”

Sitting up, Shrimp squinted and shot back, “The hell does that mean, Brook?”

“Hey!” Citrus shouted over the two. “Settle down. I-- we-- just wanted to ask you a couple questions, Shrimp. That’s it. No need to fight, let’s figure it out here.”

“Questions? Like what, ‘Are you a synth?’ ” Shrimp snorted derisively. When his friends reacted by sharing another sideways look, his voice rose. “Oh, come on!”

“Exactly that!” Brook shouted. “We ain’t forgot about what happened down in Hightide. Folks get snatched on trips and switched out with a robot, then they can murder and spy and whatever else…”

Shrimp cut her off with a laugh, one filled with a bitter note of incredulity. “You’re serious. Wow, Brook, you’ve actually gone that neurotic?”

Brook’s face flushed redder than it already was. Before she could start cursing Shrimp out, Citrus stood and stamped his hoof into the dirt, which could be felt acutely through the flimsy chairs the others still sat in. “I said enough!” He stared down Brook, then turned to Shrimp, eyes stern and piercing. “Where’d you meet us?”

Blinking, Shrimp began to object, “Citrus, you’ve-”

“Answer me.”

Shrimp stopped, then took a deep breath, filling his lungs with the damp swamp air. With another scoff, he replied, “Citrus, I met you the day we moved here. You helped us carry in the bedframe.”

Citrus nodded in response.

“Blue Brook, I met you while working at the bar. Asked me for a stout that day and every visit since. Introduced you two to each other when I learned fishing was everyone’s favorite hobby.

Her eyes still full of suspicion, Brook commented, “You know they can copy memories to the robots too.” While her attention hadn’t strayed from Shrimp, the sentence was clearly directed to Citrus, as if he was the only one listening.

Shrimp shrugged aggressively at her. “Then how on Equus do I prove I’m real?”

“That’s the point, you can’t! You’re a perfect copy!”

“Stop!” Citrus’s voice was straining. “Celestia, you two…” He snatched Brook’s bottle, dumping out the final drops and tossing it away. “You have had enough to drink. Shrimp, what happened on your trip?”

Shrimp sighed and leaned back, head in hoof. “No…”

“Yes. Clear this up so we can forget about tonight and go back to normal.”

The answer was not immediate, and only came after a long sigh and a muttered curse. “Okay, look. I… I got with another mare in Mirage, okay? I feel like shit about it, I shouldn’t have done it but I can’t take it back now. Satisfied?”

Citrus rubbed his forehead and groaned. “Shrimp… have you told Amber?”

With an exasperated shake of his head, Shrimp confessed, “No, and I don’t know how to break it to her, alright? ‘Hey, honey, I cheated on you while on my business trip! Whoops!’ ” The three were quiet for several breaths.

As a small bead of sweat rolled down the side of Citrus’s face, he nodded slowly. “Got it. Sorry for prodding, but we just needed to-”

“He knows we know,” Brook said evenly, and it was clear that she wasn’t referring to the infidelity.

As the others began to protest, Brook telekinetically grabbed the shotgun and leveled it at Shrimp’s chest. He stood very quickly, knocking over his chair.

“What the hell, Brook?” he shouted.

Similarly shocked, Citrus also reprimanded Brook. He reached for the shotgun, but as an earth pony had no recourse when it floated above his reach. Distracted by Citrus, Brook didn’t notice when Shrimp’s magic aura rotated the pistol inside his hoodie pocket to aim at her. When her peripheral caught sight of his horn’s glow, her eyes widened.

Before she could concentrate enough to pull the trigger of the shotgun far above her, a burst of light and sound erupted from the hoodie and struck Brook in the chest, toppling her backwards. Her magic cut out and the shotgun fell to the ground.

Citrus rushed to Brook, supporting her head as she gasped desperately. Breathless, he cried, “Shrimp, w-what have you done?!” The gunshot had drawn the town’s attention, and residents were exiting their homes to investigate.

Shrimp stumbled back and fled into the swamps, away from his former friends and away from the screams.

No creature ever saw him again.
> Zebra: S is for Sacrifice by SMT5015
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

    Nopony in the whole Equestria would question why ministry mare Fluttershy was going to visit the frontline. Nopony in the entire Ministry of Peace would doubt that she requested a copy of every document related to the megaspell project for the greater good. And none of those who knew the ministry mare personally would consider her night walk in a forest something unusual. The only problem was poor sentry colts who were ordered to be suspicious about everything, but at that time they usually were sleepy, so even if somepony notices the minister’s absence, it would be too late. Such were Fluttershy’s thoughts when she sneaked among the tents late at night when the sun had already set and everything went dark. If nothing delays her, she would arrive at the appointed place right when she was told to do so.

    Not so long ago all this could be done much easier. Ministry of Peace always stood for arranging negotiations, and while Flutterhy herself never participated in them out of fear,  these meetings allowed to get to the zebras without risking somepony’s life. But after that impossible assasination attempt at the Shattered Hoof all peaceful contacts were cut off, and the ministry’s most loyal field medics had to search for their zebra colleagues on the battlefield to pass the good news.

    They called themselves the Healing Church and like the Ministry’s medics they helped all soldiers, ponies and zebras alike. Both organizations treated each other with great respect and soldiers even now refused to harm any of them. This unofficial healer brotherhood was alive even now, despite all laws, orders, hate and propaganda, and it was  Flutterhy’s last way to enact her plan.

    The ministry mare asked her most trusted ponies, but they all refused in fear. Some even tried to convince Flutterhy to abandon the project and spread crazy rumors about Pinkie Pie’s Ministry of Morale dark secrets, which supposedly spied on all Equestria and could jail anypony on the slightest suspicion. But Flutterhy did not believe that her friend could do something like this and continued to seek a way to contact the Healing Church even if it meant crawling in the trenches herself. And while some zebras also fled in fear upon hearing about the megaspells, after almost a year of searching Fluttershy received a note of agreement which contained a time and a place to meet.


***


    The Moon fully rose above the horizon, surrounded by the four stars — her constant companions — as if they watched the ponies below with some intent known only to them. Fluttershy trembled in the cold of the night, or perhaps from fear of something unknown surely hiding deep in the dark forest, and then suddenly she heard an unfamiliar voice from behind her.

     — Are you Fluttershy? — The voice said, — Of course you are: it is your colors which all equestrian medics wear.

    The pegasus screamed, turning towards the sound, and what she saw was definitely not something she expected to see. Under the moon, surrounded by its light as if it was some magical aura, stood a zebra in a cape with a hood which had been folded back. Most part of his body was hidden under the enchanted fabric of some elusive color, but his face and stature gave away something alien for common soldiers and equestrian zebras. He looked like princess Celestia, but while the equestrian princess radiated with kindness and warmth, his majesty was cold and impassive. Fluttershy felt like she was in Cloudsdale historic museum, looking at some ancient pegasi statue devoid of any imperfection of a living pony. And this statue looked back at her, waiting for something with a hint of curiosity on its face.

     — Hel-hello, — said the pegasus, barely getting the word out, — Are you from the Healing Church? I have everything you requested and even more.

     — No need for haste. This is not some smugglers’ deal, but a secret negotiation, isn’t it? Allow me to introduce myself: I am proconsul Jaspis, and I indeed speak for the Church here. And before you do the irreparable, I want to ask you: what do you plan to achieve with it?

    Hearing these words, Fluttershy suddenly felt herself a criminal. It was only for a second, but long enough to make denial impossible. The zebra statue watched her from beyond time, and under this gaze the pegasus thought she was going to do something horribly wrong which would not help anypony and would only make things worse. But the ministry mare knew it was not true.

     — I want to stop the war, — she said firmly, raising her head to the towering stallion, — So ponies and zebras would not die. And to let us all live in harmony.

     — You want to stop soldier killing by any means?

     — Yes, exactly, — there was pride in Fluttershy’s voice she did not expect.

     — But winning the war stops it too,  — said the zebra and made a couple of steps towards the pegasus, — why don’t you want to help Equestria win?

    Proconsul acted like she was not behind the enemy frontline, but on a splendid zebrican soiree which appeared in equestrian newspapers a couple of times before all contacts except armed ones were cut off. He did not look like someone who would do it out of carelessness, but Fluttershy in turn was not used to notice such details. Instead she felt that her kindness had been challenged, and answered with fervor which only her closest friends usually see.

     — Because war is evil, and you can’t stop it by killing even more zebras. They are as good as ponies and have their right to live too. Wars can not lead to anything good because nothing justifies such… such…villainy!

     — Does it not mean that the Caesar is a villain? Or is princess Celestia who refused to surrender to save her ponies a villain too? Or was it someone from their courts who advised them to do this?

     — I… I don’t know. But I’m sure that princess Celestia wants only to protect her ponies and restore harmony. Everypony wants to protect Equestria and nothing more!

    The minister of peace realized that she had just spoken with propaganda. She never seriously accused anypony directly… and anyzebra too, but this explanation at least sounded believable. The statue named Jaspis, however, surely had a rich expirience of declaring villains and tried to lead Fluttershy to a thought she already did not like.

     — Indeed, this is true, — responded the zebra, — And harmony you speak of, is it the way of life that was before the war?

     — Yes. — the pegasus nodded, — It would be nice if we could live like before the war.

     — But then almost all ponies and zebras would die. From age or from disease. It would be a matter of time. And all that they had, including their labor of love, their friends and their family, they would lose forever just like when they are killed by enemy soldiers.

     — What?

    It was so weird that it could come only to zebra mind.

     — It is totally not like war. War can not be compared to the peaceful life of ponies and zebras no matter how it ends. And what does it have to do with enmity between ponies and zebras?

     — You see, Miss Fluttershy, before the hate and fear there were unfair trade deals, and before them there was a long story which we prefer to not tell to outsiders fully. The point is you ponies have everything from your birth. You have unicorn magic, wings and weather control of pegasi, strength and diligence of earth ponies. Equestria has powerful, wise and immortal princess Celestia, but what have you been striving for throughout the thousand years of your history? Nothing. You lived. In harmony. — The way Jaspis combined his words into sentences hinted for mockery, but his voice was calm as always, — While everyone around you tried to survive among predators, plagues, famines, heat and cold, little ponies lived happily under the wing of their loving mother.

    Equestrian minister of peace gasped. She could not imagine life without the weather factory, winter wrap ups and the Running of the Leaves, or, perhaps, even without the ability to carry carts and plows by yourself. Like in the Everfree forest, generation after generation. Ponies indeed could come and help like they help equestrian animals and, of course, each other. But Appleloosa, which shared its harvest with local buffalo people, was founded only a short time ago. If during all thousand years of equestrian history there was indeed only harmony, how could this be that noponony did something about this all?

     — But once, — continued the proconsul, — seven zebras turned their eyes to the east and promised to make themselves better, to to equal the prosperous ponies and then surpass them. They achieved eternal life and shared this gift with everyone who was able to pay their price. This was the origin of the Golden Tribe of Auri, united not by blood but by spirit and leading a new empire built ont the ruins of mortal kingdoms of old. Seven immortals are better than one, and several hundred were better that seven, but this was still not enough. Then the Founders appeared before the princess Celestia asking her to use the pony might to aid their course. But the radiant princess ruled alone for centuries and at that time she had… an excuse for her position among mortals. She refused, cursing the whole tribe, and said we are doomed to fall into chaos.

     — But why? — Fluttershy could not believe her ears, — Princess Celestia is always so kind to us… I mean, to everypony.

     — I did not understand it either, but now I think she played a game. You are her little ponies and she is your loving mother. Little ponies should live in harmony, be careless and seek nothing beyond their cozy little world, and then you can remain their almighty goddess. Do you remember, Miss Fluttershy, how the princess gave her sister a magic school built so recklessly close to the border and frontline? And then, when the war reached it, she left you by abdicating the throne. She was not prepared for what happens to other kingdoms when they meet an equal opponent.

    Fluttershy made a step back: not this zebra scared her for real. He was saying right things that nopony should suffer from hunger or disease, but at the same time… one does not accuse princess Celestia and all ponies of her Equestria as if they did something bad when they did not do anything.

     — Probably there was some mistake, — said the mare, smiling as cute as she could, — you told me about very good zebras, and, perhaps, you could just ask the princess once more, or speak with some other ponies.

     — Indeed, I made a mistake. All recent years could be traced to it if you wish to do it. I told you of the world where I lived, where was Celestia’s maleficent inaction and powerful magic which would make the spark-energy a matter of short time. And there were little dreams of little ponies who cared about these distant and strange zebras for as long as their coal is needed. And there was despair gnawing great minds like a plague. While our people fret, tired from waiting for the promised ascendance, senators started to whisper that we should stop and deny them from it. That the empire is already perfect for everyone who matters — for the few, for the chosen ones, for us. And then, Miss Fluttershy, I suggested that we declare a war.

    Everything fell into place: the strange and uncanny proconsul was one of those few whom Fluttershy called evil in her rare moments of anger, though still not implying any person she knew — those who thought that this war could do something good. This insidious zebra even convinced her, albeit for a moment. But nopony like him would join the cause of Healing Church, could it be that he was lying all the way? But why would he? But during the confession the stallion's sculpture mask of a face broke and changed for expression of sorrow, which meant…

     — You realized that you were wrong and came here to apologize before me? — Fluttershy asked, stepping back. The zebra almost made her flee in anger several times, but she still thought that for him this question would be too impolite.

     — Almost, — said Jaspis and continued to pour out his soul before a pony whom he saw for the first time, — I strived for a small and victorious war, which would take few lives we would be still unable to save by peaceful protraction. But as time went on, zebras and ponies gave more as if they were trying to buy the victory from some infinitely greedy spirit. And eventually the Caesar demanded that the Church should give up one of its secrets — almost as powerful as yours, Miss Fluttershy. But they refused, and then… Panacea… my duty called me to destroy the most precious thing in my life, and I answered. As a member of the high court, I sentenced the purest soul to be expelled from this calm and safe world and watched it burn alive in a burst of enchanted dragonflame.

     — You… lost a friend? I’m so sorry. And you want to befriend me?

    Jaspis’ face distorted as if he was torn between agreeing and denying the offer. The uncanny coldness was gone, and before FLutterhy stood a common, living zebra who could never see an enemy soldier with his own eyes and still gave everything to this horrible, terrible war.

     — I lost everything of value in the empire, and with this memory I would live forever. The dead can not be replaced, Miss Fluttershy, but you’re a wonderful pony by your own. I accept your offer and it means a lot to me.

The pegasus opened her saddle bag and pulled out the documents. The moment of truth was close.

 — Here, take this — she held out a thick folder, — And when everything ends, you can visit me in Equestria. Maybe we could find a solution for your problems together.

Jaspis touched the folder but did not take it. He stared closely, trying to find some important answer in the mare’s soul. Perhaps, he was looking like this during the fateful court.

 —  Are you firm in your faith, Miss Fluttershy? — He asked, — This night could deprive you of everything, and would you regret if your deed would be uncovered? Will you accept your fate humbly or curse the magical land which betrayed you?

Of course the ministry mare feared. Especially now when she heard of what the war made zebras do to their own healers. Scary stories about Ministry of Morale came to her mind, but this all was too wrong to happen in Equestria. And even if something like this would ever become real, there were her ministry and her friends to protect her. None of them would believe that their dear Fluttershy could intend to do something bad.

 — Our ministry created a doctrine for using the megaspells, — said the pegasus, — If both sides would have healing magic of such power, the war would become impossible to win, and ponies and zebras would have to negotiate. We can do this.

 — Here’s how? — Jaspis finally took the folder and somehow started to turn pages despite holding it with one hoof, — I see what you did in your ministry, but I fear that too many would want to be not able to lose.
 — Is there a difference? — The zebrican strangeness suddenly returned as a gust of cold wind.

 — Nobody starts a war to wage it forever. This burden is too heavy. The question is, what can they give to end the war they started and joined. Today, equestrian ponies live in a world where all zebras are devoid of friendship virtues, and zebras live in a world where all ponies willingly serve Nightmare Moon. We can think differently, but if majorities were like you, this war would not even begin. For the others, victory is the only way to save their people from the war and their enemies from their evil rulers, or even just zebras from ponies or otherwise. Nobody would agree to give up whatever they gain after their victory and would not believe that the other side would stop warmongering except when facing complete destruction.

 — But then the megaspells mean an advantage, and if you would not use them, Equestria will and then ponies win. This is the point of C.A.R.E. doctrine. — Fluttershy even felt smug saying this. Finally, she was smarter than this zebra.

 — Yes, but does Equestria deploy your megaspells as they are? We surely would receive reports like after your first tests. 

 — Ow. I don’t…

 — Do you remember the ever-hungry spirit of war I told you about? Its servants ignored your spell and will continue to do so unless they find a way to twist this power to its accord. For them, the only way to end the war is to harm their enemies more than themselves, which can’t be done by healing everyone equally. Have you considered this?

 —  I… I don’t know, sorry. But I think, in the end, healing is healing, so even if ponies will heal only ponies and zebras will heal only zebras, nothing changes and everypony still will be healed.

 — Perhaps you underestimate its power, Miss Fluttershy, and I warn you that magic alone would not be enough to stop the war truly. Neither the megaspells, nor even the magic of friendship. Purifying our countries would require a miracle, and as shamans of old put it, all miracles… require a sacrifice.

Jaspis hid the megaspell folder somewhere under his cape, and for a moment, despite all darkness of night, a gilded sword handle flashed from under it.

 — Remember, that if the war ends with nothing, everyone will die, — He said, turning back into statue, — But we will remain.

The zebra put on the hood of his stealth cape and disappeared. This was the end of secret negotiations between the head of equestrian Ministry of Peace and proconsul of the Auri Empire. Fluttershy stood alone in the forest, tormented by vague doubts. She made a mistake in her doctrine, and did not predict something right. But in the end, the zebra accepted her gift which meant everything was fine. Healing was healing, and there was only one way to use megaspells, the one which should stop the war inevitably. Enjoying the fresh night air, the pony walked back to the ministry’s camp while the Moon and the four stars watched the world below with some intent known only to them…