Trinity, Equestria
5 AHW*
The mare squinted at the rod, her horn glowing violet as made miniscule adjustments to the magical foci, jiggling the gemstones in their casings. The room echoed with a pulsing drone emanating from the rod and five others like it in the room.
“Stop playing with that thing,” the stallion in the corner admonished her, exasperation beginning to edge its way into his tone. Recognizing his voice, she jumped before she managed to resume her professional demeanor.
“I-I’ve just got to adjust… this…” Dangit, she hadn’t been able to keep that initial waver out of her voice. Finally, the rod gave a series of distinctive clicks as the gems were all correctly aligned.
“Give me the spell-weave calculations,” the stallion instructed. “NOW!” he barked when her attention remained on the rod. Startled from her inspection, she stalked over to a table and levitated a scroll inscribed with the spell process. Glancing at the other unicorns in the room, she noted that they seemed terrified by his sudden outburst. They were probably worried that he was angry and would take it out on them. She was worried about the fact that he was nervous.
“They’re already done,” she protested, though she passed him the scroll anyway. Unrolling the diagram, the stallion moved to the center of the circle created by the rods, the rune etched onto the floor illuminating him in a soft silvery glow.
Star Swirl the Bearded. Wearing his iconic hat and cloak embroidered with lunar symbols on a blue background, his long gray beard rustled quietly as he absentmindedly stroked his chin. His name was legend throughout all of the three tribes, his skill with magic unparalleled and his intellect unmatched. Most of the unicorns here looked on this chance to work with the aging mage as the high point in their careers. For her, it was just another crazy project with her mentor. Then again… this project was easily the craziest that either of them had ever worked on.
The stallion held his hoof upturned towards her. Taking the hint, she passed him a quill from the table. The work of several days by the top mages in the land disappeared under a few quick swipes of the quill. Clover was sure that if they’d been here to see it, all those unicorns would have screamed at the casual manner in which their work had been altered.
Star Swirl nodded to himself, passing the scroll back to her as he produced a pocket watch from his cloak and began to toy with it. Looking over his changes, she had to admit she was impressed. He’d improved the spell’s efficiency by almost a factor of three. The reduced strain on the unicorns casting it would make maintaining it much easier, giving him a larger window of opportunity.
“I wonder if it will be snowing,” he dryly remarked as the modified scroll was passed around, each unicorn studying the changes before nodding and passing the scroll to the next in line. Once they had all memorized the new adjustments, they took up their positions, five other unicorns each taking a place between two of the rods, while Clover took the position facing Star Swirl.
“Good luck,” she called, allowing just a hint of affection to show before resuming her professional demeanor. “Standby.”
As one, the six unicorns circling the elderly mage lit their horns, the rods emitting a single rising note as they began to glow as well. The rune collapsed in on the mage, turning red as soon as it touched him. Then, with a final crash reminiscent of a sonic rainboom and a similarly blinding flash of light, he was gone.
/////
Somewhere in the Hippogriffonian Mountain Range
50 BHW**
Icy winds swirled around the three windigoes as they rested on the mountainside, the unnatural gale shrieking in the cave behind them as stones began to split in the extreme cold.
The Windigoes’ piercing gazes swept over the vast valleys that lay below. They saw towns and farms filled with growing things, cities and mines that glowed in the light of countless spells, and clouds shaped into homes and guided across the land.
They could feel the anger of the creatures in the fields, who worked so hard to make their crops grow and their food plentiful only to have their produce stolen away.
They savored the scent of resentment from the beasts in the sky, who fought hard to gain authority through personal betterment, yet were forced to take orders from those who had not earned their authority or risk letting their children starve.
Their ears flicked at the sounds of indignation from the beings in the city, whose power ensured the continuation of the cycle the whole world relied on and brought them great wealth, yet had no choice but to associate with such crude and brazen beings or risk losing the wealth and stability they had fought to gain.
Every creature in the valley reeked of dissatisfaction, anger, and resentment just waiting to erupt into full-blown hatred, and the smell was intoxicating. The spirit’s hooves stamped eagerly on some invisible plain as they began to prance in a circle, their heads held high and a bounce in their gait. Such a feast! Such a buffet! Surely this land would feed them for decades yet before their chill squeezed the life from the land!
Just as they began to charge towards the waiting banquet, the cave behind them flashed with a brilliant light and a sound like a phoenix rocketing past. Pulling up, short, their ethereal manes whipped in their chilling wind as they turned to confront whatever force had made itself known.
The intruder was a creature like the ones in the cities, yet the anger in his heart was much weaker than theirs. His strange blue hat and cloak were adorned with several tiny bells that tinkled softly in the wind, yet he showed no sign of feeling their chill. What manner of creature was this, that was not frozen solid in their presence? Their knickering grew nervous as they paced back and forth, their ears folded back as his horn began to glow.
His body blazed red as the rune ignited, tinging the cave pink as the power began to build. The Windigoes felt the warmth within the creature’s magic, eyes widening as they recognized its power and felt fear for the first time in centuries. Too late, they turned to flee from the harbinger of their destruction; even as they turned the spell grew complete and burst out towards them. The rocks on the mountain shattered as the wraiths screamed in agony, their ethereal bodies thrashing in impossible contortions as the red glow surrounded them, the blazing heat dissolving their very being.
Star Swirl winced as their cries echoed through the cave. The runic lines had disappeared once the spell was cast, which now compressed itself one last time before bursting apart, flooding the cave with warmth and the chilling fog that was all that remained of the frost spirits. Shielding himself with a hoof, he winced as that ethereal fog touched him.
In that moment, countless images and sensations flooded unbidden into his mind. In that final moment when his body glowed once more and began pulling him back to his own time, he saw and felt what the Windigoes had learned.
/////
The second flash made Clover see stars, forcing her to rub her eyes to relieve the burning. Blinking through the pain-induced tears, she breathed a silent sigh of relief at the sight of her mentor, his posture unchanged from when he left.
“Well?” she pressed. “Did it work?” While not the greeting she wanted to give, the fact remained that the facilities’ wards isolated them from any change in the timestream. They had no way of knowing whether or not her spell had actually worked, only that it had sent him somewhere and brought him back.
Murmurs began to break out among the observers as Star Swirl remained silent, looking straight ahead with a thousand-mile stare.
“Star Swirl?” she prodded, unable to hide the worry in her voice. To her relief, he started at the sound of her voice, the murmurs dying down as he slowly began to look around. Finally, his mouth opened, and the room fell silent.
“The Windigoes...” his words were careful, his tone the absentminded drone of one lost in thought, “…are… out of the way.”
A sense of achievement swept through the room. Colleagues quietly shook hooves, more than one embracing those nearby as a quiet air of celebration settled on the room.
“Congratulations, Arch-mage!” Clover gushed, the myriad of possibilities now opened up running through her mind. “With the Windigoes gone, the tribes-“ –would never need to leave the valley, would never have begun arguing in the first place, would be free to grow and expand without resorting to that mess of an attempt at unification that had seemed like such a good idea at the time-
His raised hoof cut her off before she could voice her thoughts. For the first time, she truly noticed the detached look in his eyes, the way his shoulders slumped as he failed to join in the celebrating. What he did next sent shivers down her spine.
“Time will tell,” he intoned in the voice of one whose mind is miles away. Pulling out his pocket watch, he nodded to himself. “Sooner or later… time will tell.”
Author's Note
* = After Hearth's Warming
** = Before Hearth's Warming
For the intro this chapter is based on, look here.
I'm gonna warn you guys right here; C&C: Red Alert was the first video game I ever played, and the first one was the best; while the other two were fun to play, they fell too far into Camp(RA 3 *shudder*). Also, first RA Tanya is best Tanya, so when she appears (yes, she WILL appear), she's not going to be fanservice, porn-actor Tanya. She is still bat-**** crazy, though.
The way the three tribes are built will take a lot of inspiration from the third RA, as it's the only one with three factions; HOWEVER, units will not necessarily remain on their original faction, not all units will be used, and several new units will be introduced.
Also, I am currently a college student. That means my update times will be sporatic and probably infrequent. If that is a problem, I am sorry. I cannot drop my college education to write fanfiction 24/7.
For those who read my other story, "Magic is Hard," I am still working on it, but this idea has been stuck in my head for far too long. Plus, it is proving easier to write something based on a thing that already exists.
Big shout-out to K9Thefirst1 and his A Brief History of Equestria, which is a great head-canon about the Hearth's Warming story presented in a realistic historical record format. I freely admit that some of the story elements, such as calling the pegasi nation the Junta, were inspired by his story; HOWEVER, since this is alternate history and I am not simply copy-pasting, I think I'm not plaigarizing. I think.
Earth Republic Military HQ, Marelin
Tugging at his new uniform jacket's collar, Peachy Keen stoically refrained from scratching his itching scalp. The jacket's tag kept digging into the back of his neck, always just out of reach of his hoof. While the padded armor and helmets for the normal grunts were by no means comfortable, at least they didn't make him feel restrained like this officer uniform.
In an attempt to distract himself, he glanced around the room, idly tapping his hoof on the circular table he was seated at. A folder with "Classified" stamped on the cover in bold red letters sat across from him on the circular table. On the wall behind it, a painting displayed a fully-armored griffin soaring through the skies, it's beak open in a screech of challenge. Next to the painting was a presentation screen that refused to roll back up. Other than a few bookshelves with thick tomes and some choice pictures scattered across the walls, the room was otherwise bare.
Tapping his hoof on the table, curiosity made him wonder why his new superior was running late. For that matter, who was his new superior? Everything had been so hectic since his seemingly-impromptu promotion, and nopony ever remembered to fill him in on what was happening before he got dragged somewhere else and handed new orders. Everypony kept running around like headless chickens while he just sat and wondered what the heck was going on. Idly scratching his scalp, he wondered if his superior would arrive soon.
Right on cue, the door behind him opened with a dignified click. Turning to face the doorway, he rose into a well-practiced salute.
"Evening, si-" The greeting caught in his throat, eyes widening as his mind went blank. Instinctively his posture stiffened, his hoof pressing painfully against his temple as his chest swelled to contain his heart's frantic pounding.
"Ah, you're here," the beaked avian distractedly remarked, returning the salute without slowing his hurried trot. A gray uniform jacket conspicuously devoid of any ribbons or medals framed two aged white wings folded on his back. As he passed, Peachy caught a look at his cutie mark: a stylized silver eagle with wings spread wide, set over a solid blue shield.
"Forgive my distraction, commander," he heard the avian apologize in an accent that made each word clipped and precise. "Other matters have kept me from Marelin, so I am myself not quite up to speed." Seating himself directly across from the stallion, he snatched up the folder, flicking through the papers until something caught his eye.
Peachy slowly lowered himself back into a seated position. Okay, this made no sense whatsoever. Was he in the wrong room? He'd gotten the room number wrong again, hadn't he? After all, there was no way the highest-ranking general in the Republic would actually be briefing him.
"Permission to speak, General Half-Breed?" His hooves weren't fast enough to catch his slip of the tongue or warm enough to protect him from the chill of the general's glare.
"-I mean Crossbreed Gloster-- I mean Apple Feathers!" he verbally backpedaled. Please brain, not now... "-I mean Applelachia, your Esling! I, I, I-"
"You mean General Gloster-Apple von Esling, the half-breed from Applelachia, perhaps?" Beneath the calm delivery, Peachy could hear his career shatter into a million pieces. "Well? Am I right?" With a whimper, he buried his head beneath his hooves.
"F-forgive my stupid mouth, sir," he groaned, "It just- words come out before my brain thinks and I just start talking, and I had no idea it was you briefing me, and the first thing that popped into my head were the rumors -which I never believed-- but they somehow got mixed in and..." His head thunked against the table. "And I'm doing it again..."
"A fact that contributed to your graduating at the bottom of your class, Commander Peachy," Esling noted, making the stallion wince. "However, your talents in other areas convinced me to overlook your... lacking social grace when choosing you for this mission." When the pony didn't move, he reached across the table and tapped his shoulder. Daring to look up, Peachy found the hippogriff giving him a gentle smile. "Do not think I hold this against you. I am not deaf to the scuttlebutt certain parties have spread about me, and I have been called far worse to my face." His smile faded. "However, this will be the last time this particular problem comes up, agreed?"
"Sir, yes, sir." Peachy slumped in his seat while the general went back to the papers. "So, I'm not in the wrong room?"
"Nein," Esling cocked an eyebrow, though his gaze never left the contents of the folder. "Were you not given a preliminary briefing on- ah, of course not. They probably raced you here as fast as they could without stopping to explain, ja?"
"Uh... pretty much." Peachy shrugged. "I was told to wait in this room for my new superior to arrive and brief me on my assignment. I, uh... wasn't expecting you." Gulping, he sat up straight. "I-I mean, what would the leader of the Republic's military be briefing a newly-promoted commander?"
"Indeed I am not your immediate superior," he stated. "That would be General Town Watch, who will arrive shortly to update me and brief you." Meeting Peachy's gaze, he narrowed his eyes. "The mare has a hair-trigger temper. I suggest you do your best to remain quiet during the briefing." The stallion gulped and nodded.
"In the meantime, I'll try to bring you up to speed. In the wake of the hostile responses to the Republic's demands for greater representation in inter-tribal affairs, our diplomats to the Kingdom and the Junta, Chancellor Puddinghead and secretary Smart Cookie respectively, were taken captive to be used as leverage. Chancellor Puddinghead managed to escape the Kingdom facility where she was held and is currently being retrieved. Our focus is secretary Smart Cookie."
"A secretary?" Peachy asked. "Don't we have plenty of those? I mean, there's twelve in this hallway alone. I understand that protecting our diplomats is important, but with our tribe on the verge of a war on two fronts, why are you personally overseeing this?"
"The facility holding the Chancellor was one of the most secure military facilities we are aware of within the Kingdom," Esling casually stated as he resumed examining his papers. "Initial reports suggest that the facility is now in ruins, and the time gap between her escape and response from other Kingdom forces suggest that they were unable to send a warning before the base was destroyed. The Chancellorship is the highest elected office in the Republic, and Smart Cookie is the only pony we are aware of to have any amount of influence on the mare."
"...What mush-brained pony decided that sending the two most important ponies in the Republic as diplomatic messengers was a good idea?"
"...the Chancellor." Shaking himself, the hippogriff pulled a sheet of paper from the folder and set it aside. "Anyway, we have been communicating with Smart Cookie through a crystal transmitter she managed to smuggle in. Thanks to this, we-"
The door flew open with a loud bang that made him jump in his seat. A dark tan mare rushed past him, passing a clipboard to the general as she strode around him. Tossing a dark blue hat that matched her ribbon-studded uniform jacket on the table as she took a seat next to Esling. "Commander," she nodded to Peachy in acknowledgement.
"The last transmission?" Esling pressed as he scanned the clipboard.
"Two days ago," the mare he assumed was General Town Watch informed them. "Since then, nothing."
Talons idly tapped on the table as Esling mused on that. "Perhaps Smart Cookie escaped," he ventured.
Town Watch paused, then shook her head. "Too much to hope for, general. She would have contacted us by now."
the commander heard the click of the door opening once more. In walked a mare clad in a tactical vest and gray camouflage pants. Very tight camouflage pants. What kind of prude wore pants? Peachy thought to himself. Her long black mane was tied up into a tight bun, her tail almost touching the ground. Sauntering over to the table, she tossed Esling a lazy salute, which he returned with slightly more decorum.
"This is classified," General Town Watch snapped, trapping the folder on the table beneath a protective hoof. Half-rising, she found herself blocked by a faded-gray wing.
"I sent for her," Esling declared, a warning edge in his tone.
"General von Esling, she is a civilian!" she protested, sliding the folder close.
"That's why I don't get killed," the mare retorted, snatching the folder away from the flabbergasted general and throwing Peachy a cheeky wink.
"Commander," Esling announced a bit too loudly, "this is Tanya Adams, professional..." Trailing off, he gave her a questioning look, getting only an amused smirk in response. "...Volunteer," he decided. "She will be working with you on this mission." He gave Watch a pointed glare as he finished, as if daring her to challenge the declaration. Averting her gaze, she sulked, giving a low growl as Tanya leaned on Esling's shoulder.
Brushing her away, Esling grabbed the paper he had pulled earlier and slid it into the projector. "This is the facility where we believe Smart Cookie is being held," he stated, indicating the image of several buildings surrounded by dark clouds that now displayed on the slidescreen. "We need her back. Immediately. Once you have located her, bring her back to your drop-off point for immediate evacuation. Be careful; the base is heavily fortified, but not invincible."
"Their weakness is power," Watch interjected. "Black out the base, and nothing will stop you!" Shooting Tanya a sidelong glance, she straightened up and locked eyes with Peachy. "Good luck."
Peachy raised his eyebrow. "...Power, ma'am?"
She sighed, planting her face in her hoof. "Pegasi use turbines to generate the charge necessary for making storm clouds. They house the turbines in buildings called power plants to control the winds they use to power the turbines. Destroy enough turbines, and the base defenses revert to normal clouds until power is restored."
"...Oh." He thought for a minute. "So, kind of like our steam plants?"
"Exactly."
"...Shouldn't this mission go to somepony with more experience with me?"
"Don't worry boss," Tanya quipped, giving his shoulder a friendly punch that rattled his teeth, "I can clean up any mess you manage to make. We'll be done and back in no time."
"Thanks, I guess," he grumbled half-heartedly. "In that case, I guess I-"
"Come on," she groused, ignoring his yelps as she dragged him out by his tail. "We've got a ride to catch!" Esling covered his beak in a vain attempt to contain his chuckles at the undignified exit.
What a way to start out, Peachy sheepishly chuckled to himself.
1st Legion Permanent Headquarters
The strong breeze carried winter's chill through the open building, leaving frost on the Romanesque pillars. Battle Plan shivered, grateful for her foresight in wearing extra padding beneath her armor; without the added barrier between her and the cold, she'd be an icicle.
Her hooves clopped rythmically on the smooth stone floor as she trotted towards the assembly room. Some pegasi found the noise unnerving and preferred to fly to their destinations, no matter how near their destination was. As a pony used to going groundside, she found the repetitive sound rather soothing, helping clear her mind as she moved.
Furrowed fields stretched right from the perimeter of the building all the way to the sheer cliff faces that made the base impregnable to ground-pounders. Those fields currently lay empty, a thin layer of frost settled on the exposed soil. Clouds formed a large bowl that hid the cliff-top from view, the occasional glint of armor within the clouds signaling the passage of one of the patrols constantly circling the base.
Arriving at a wide doorframe, she entered the room without pause; pegasi didn't use doors, so none of their buildings had them. The room was enormous, large enough to house an entire century shoulder to shoulder, with walls as tall as the room was wide. A few tables were the only furnishings present, one of which was the center of a small group of pegasi currently engaged in conversation. As she approached, she began to make out what they were discussing.
"So our stockpiles will last?" the mare on the left asked. Adjusting her morion as she leaned forward, the mare blew an unruly strand of Ginger hair out of her eyes. A solid breastplate bearing the Junta's lightning bolt covered her barrel, tapering into a skirt of adjoining metal plates.
"Yeah, but just barely," the mare on the right replied, her slitted yellow eyes focused on the other mare. Her armor was purple instead of the standard stormcloud-grey and silver, melting into her ash-grey fur and matching her leathery wings. "Our food stores will be enough to get us through the winter, but there is precious little room for error."
It was then that the third mare noticed Battle Plan's entrance, her pale purple eyes locking on to her as she rose to her hooves. Removing her plumed helmet, she set it down on the table as her short blue mane settled against her light pink fur.
"Well, greetings, commander!" she called, alerting her partners to the new arrival. Taking wing, she flew to meet Battle Plan, making her pull up short. Grinning like a cheshire cat, she extended her hoof expectantly.
Grinning right back, Battle locked hooves with her and pulled, metal ringing against metal as they slammed their barrels together. Chuckling as she shook her head to get rid of the ringing in her ears, she looked up to find the mare doing the same.
"Just as strong as they said!" she declared, giving Battle a friendly slap on the back.
"You're no slouch yourself," Battle Plan retorted while rubbing her shoulder.
The mare laughed. "I like you already! Come, have a seat; we have much to discuss. By the way, I'm General Firefly; you wanna meet Commander Hurricane someday, then follow my orders and get things done."
"Commander Battle Plan, at your service," Battle Plan replied. "So, what have you got for me?"
"Excuse me," the thestral interrupted, "but this shortage is a very pressing concern. Surely the commander's briefing can wait?"
"Alright then, Shadow," Firefly sighed, "you can finish your... whatever-you-call-it."
"Right," Shadow sighed, rubbing her temples. "Like I said, we have food enough stored to get us through the winter, though it's a close call. The problem is that food doesn't grow instantaneously. We'll make it to the growing season, but we'll be scraping the bottom of the barrel while we wait for the crops to grow. If we cut back on rations, we might make it till the first crops, but our troops won't be as effective if they're half-starved, and our own farms and orchards won't be nearly enough to feed our armies, much less the civilians."
"I still don't get why we don't just flood the mudponies and be done with it," the ginger-maned mare groused. "I mean, we control the weather. A couple good monsoons, and they'll be completely helpless."
"And then, Captain Hotshot, we would starve as the fields that produce the food we need lay in ruins," Firefly retorted. "The unicorns could easily refuse to raise and lower the moon and sun, but they won't. They need the food the Republic grows almost as much as we do, and they'd be hurting their own farms and orchards if they resorted to that."
"Great," Hotshot grumbled, crossing her legs over her chest, "we've got the forces of nature on our side, and we're too scared to use them."
"Why not get more food?" Battle Plan suggested. "They have the food we need, and since we're at war, we could just raid one of their storage areas and boost our own supplies."
"Funny you should mention that," Firefly smirked, pulling out a folder and dropping it on the table. "Obviously, our overall strategy is to take enough producing land to sustain our current population, but we've always suspected the Republic of hoarding more food than they say, trying to get out of paying for our services making sure their crops get properly scheduled weather. While there are several actions planned to correct this, our focus is on this area right here." Unrolling a map, she pointed to an area of the Republic on the border of the Junta. "We know this area holds a large stockpile, and we intent to take it for the Junta."
"But the Kingdom just marched into that area last week," Hotshot frowned. "Our forces in that area aren't up to taking a Kingdom army head-on, and we can't move any other troops into position to invade through there without leaving ourselves open."
"We will not have to take them head-on," Firefly declared, "because the bulk of their army will be..." Her hoof drifted a short distance into the Republic. "...here."
"Pardon my speculation," Shadow shot as she raised an eyebrow, "but why would they be there and not defending their recent aquisition?"
"Because this is where the Republic has placed a large concentration of armed forces," she replied. "Upon encountering the first real resistance to their invasion, their army will focus on stamping their resistance into the ground. Besides, they may have some impressive toys and useful resources, their generals are still new to war. They're making mistakes no private in the Junta would make, one of which is leaving only a token guard at a valuable objective. We are going to capitalize on their mistakes."
"So, commander," she continued, turning her attention to Battle Plan, "it appears you have your first assignment. Go rendezvous with our forces in that area. Once you have your troops organized, take out whatever forces the unicorns left behind to guard the stockpile. Once you have eliminated enemy resistance, we will send cargo chariots to empty the stockpiles and move them to a more secure location. After the silos are dry, gather your ponies and get back to Junta soil, destroying the bridge behind you. If all goes well, you will be in and out before they can realize what we're up to." She smiled, tapping her hooves together. "Good luck kid; go knock 'em dead!"
"Gotcha," Battle Plan nodded, already skipping towards the entrance, fighting the urge to hop in place. The giggles slipped out before she could catch them, and honestly she didn't really care. A secret mission behind enemy lines? On her first day?
What a way to start out! Battle Plan cheered to herself.
Arcania Royal Strategy Room
In spite of herself, Clear Mind was impressed. Though the King's wealth was hardly a secret, it was one thing to know about it and quite another to actually see it. Despite her best efforts to remain focused, she couldn't help but glance around the room.
Each wall was gleaming white marble, framed by intricate and detailed molding of solid gold. the rectangular ebony table she was currently seated at dominated the room, it's edges lined with pure silver and gems studding the sides. White silk had been used to make the slide-screen on the wall at the head of the table, which was currently the focus of everypony else in the room.
Images flashed on the screen as a unicorn on her right levitated several slides in and out of the projector, each creating a new image on the screen. In one, earth ponies clad in peasant's rags stood in rank and file. The next showed more earth ponies, now plowing fields side-by-side as officious-looking unicorns looked on. Next, a pony laying limply against a fountain, his face completely submerged. More unicorns stood around him, levitating clipboards and scrolls. None of it made any sense to her; probably some project she didn't know anything about. For some reason, she found her attention drawn to their eyes. The unicorns all seemed normal, but... the eyes of each earth pony shown just seemed...off somehow. As the images stopped flashing, she dismissed it from her mind, focusing on the other ponies in the room.
"Lord Argon," King Osmium asked, "how long did it take the spell to work?" Turning on the plush cushions at the head of the table, he chewed absentmindedly on a lit pipe. A crown of gold set with rubies rested on his head, covering his long yellow mane. A large red cloak lined with ermine highlighted his pure white fur, held in place by a clasp set with a large sapphire.
The stallion who had been running the slides paused, instinctively covering the papers in front of him with a hoof as he glanced between her and the king. Cream-colored fur contrasted against his dark blue uniform, as did the yellow pauldrons on his shoulders and stripes on his sleeves.
"Is it safe to speak, your majesty?" he ventured, gesturing at her.
"Of course," King Osmium responded, fixing his gaze on her. "Go on."
"The time required varies depending on age and mental fortitude of the subject," Argon stated. "Ah..." Pausing, his horn glowed as he checked his papers. "The children took to the treatment in less than fifteen seconds, while the adults took longer: eighteen to forty-two seconds."
"No exceptions?" Osmium pressed.
"None, your majesty."
"The total gain?" The mare to her left spoke up, for the first time since Clear Mind had entered the room. Her silver fur stood out against her dark brown uniform and the bright red pauldrons on her shoulders.
Argon scowled, checking his papers. "Approximately... one hundred and forty."
"My intelligence says there were one hundred and seventy-seven ponies in the village," she smirked, leaning forward to rest her chin on her elbows. "How do you account for this discrepancy?"
"Inaccurate intelligence?" he snarled, slamming both hooves on the table as he loomed over her.
"Enough," Osmium snapped. Immediately both ponies backed down, though Argon still shot glares at the mare whenever Osmium wasn't looking. The king's horn began to glow as he wrote something on one of the papers on the table. Behind him, the symbol of the sun split in two, sliding apart to reveal a map of the lands of the three tribes. "Begin immediate distribution of the spell to the proper ponies."
"Already underway, your majesty," Argon gently pointed out.
Osmium threw him a long look that Clear couldn't read, then stood up and walked over to the map, puffing on his pipe. the minute his back was turned, Argon glared furiously at the mare across from him, who just leaned back and smirked. Their standoff came to an unexpected end as Osmium turned back to the table.
"Meet our newest officer," he announced, gesturing at Clear with his pipe as he returned to the table, though he remained standing. "According to my daughter's profile, you should prove useful."
Both of the other ponies gave her appraising glances. the mare gave her a knowing smirk and turned away after a moment, making her wonder just how much the mare already knew about her.
"I would like to see that profile, your-" Argon started, frowning as he continued to appraise her.
"Give the lieutenant something important to do," King Osmium interrupted as he took a seat once more, placing particular emphasis on 'important.' Giving Argon a meaningful look, he returned his attention to the papers in front of him.
Argon froze, glancing down at his papers, then staring off into space.
"That is all, Lord Argon," King Osmium growled without looking up.
Argon paused, then lowered his head, ears laying flat as he reached a decision.
"Forgive me, your majesty, but there is something else." Standing up as Osmium eyed him curiously, he straightened his posture and set his shoulders. "While resistance was expected in the liberated areas, we have encountered dissent in areas that were already part of the Kingdom. In the village of Torun particularly, there has been an outbreak of heavy guerrilla action." Walking over to the map, his horn lit, and a new map appeared, this time showing an overhead view of a small village at a crossroads, the land covered in snow. "They have blocked the roads to the town here and here," he indicated with his hoof.
"They're traitors to the crown," Osmium stated with certainty. "Destroy the town, and kill everypony in it." Slamming his pipe down with finality, he scooped up his papers and stood, leaving a single folder behind. "Come, my dear," he beckoned to the mare, "I have an assignment that requires your special skills."
Shuffling her papers together, the mare paused just long enough to shoot Argon a victorious smirk before following the king out the door. Argon stared after her as the door clicked shut, then took a seat at the head of the table.
Clear Mind sat frozen in the same position she'd been in for the past several minutes, her shrunken pupils the only outward sign of her inner turmoil. Ice ran up and down her spine as the king's order echoed through her head over and over. Her ruler, her king, had just ordered the murder of an entire village! A village filled with citizens of the Kingdom! Kings shouldn't do that to their own people!
Realizing that Argon was looking at her, she snapped herself out of her trance and focused on him.
"Let's see how you handle this," he said after a moment. "Go at once to Torun, destroy everything and everypony. No prisoners, no survivors."
What? Just like that, her brain derailed again. Argon wasn't going to do it himself, he was going to push the responsibility onto her.
"How?" she finally managed. How could he ask her to do something like that? How could the king order such a deed in the first place? How was she supposed to live with herself if she actually did it?"
"I would advise using the troops provided," he answered, oblivious to her real questions, "though if it comes down to it, you'll have to call up whatever combat spells you know and do it yourself." Leaning forward, he locked eyes with her. "This is not optional. If you refuse, if you fail, his majesty will declare you a traitor and have you drawn and quartered in the streets, along with your entire immediate family." His voice held no pity and no remorse. "You wanted a place at the top? Well, this is how things are done. If you can't handle it, you will be disposed of."
With that, he turned his attention to the folder that she dimly recognized as her profile.
After several moments, he glanced back up to find that she still had not moved.
"That is all," he prodded, dismissing her in no uncertain terms.
Slowly, she managed to rise to her hooves. Instinctively she walked out into the hallway, the door closing behind her with a soft click. A feeling of nausea swept over her, making her stagger as she walked down the hallway. Slumping against the wall, she sighed as her head began to throb.
What a way to start out, Clear bitterly thought to herself.
Author's Note
It's interesting to realize how easily Joseph Stalin fits into the role of medieval monarch. Says something about his government, don't you think?
Next chapter, we actually embark upon the mission(s)! I'll probably try and keep a three-chapter format: Briefing, mission, and aftermath. That said, next chapter might be a while. I'm going to try and update my other story, "Magic is Hard," before I start working on the next chapter. Plus, school is getting a bit ridic, if you know what I mean.
Two more things: One, I might start making blog posts giving overviews of the units that get used in the story. I'll probably base it on the units that appear in the missions to avoid spoilers. Gonna say right now, the equine versions of Red Alert units are going to be... interesting.
Secondly, does this need a "dark" tag? I mean, it's ponies. Things are going to get really silly, and there's going to be quite a bit of comedy mixed in. That said, the beauty of the first Red Alert was the fact that it took itself seriously, and I intend to do the same with this story. There will be no gore or squirting bodily flui... there will be no gore. However, there are some sensitive topics and scenarios that will be addressed, starting with the first mission of the Unicorn campaign.
So, "dark" tag or no "dark" tag? Feel free to weigh in on your opinion.
