The End is the Beginning

+++++Transmitted:--N/A

+++++Destination: --N/A

+++++Origin: Lieutenant Dalia

+++++Decode Authority: --N/A

+++++Subject: --N/A

+++++Thought for the Day: "Zeal is it's own excuse."

+++++Time Remaining: null + 31 hours

---Machine Spirit, hear my most humble request and ignite the fires of your venerable engines.

---...

---Your operations sing praise to the Omnissiah, trust your steward to take over from here.

---Initiating flight check.

---Flaps and stabilizers: Green.

---Promethium Fuel Tanks: Green.

---Vertical thrust settings calibrated to gravitational pull.

---Auspex sensor capacitors: Green.

---Weapons check: Rocket pod ammunition count zero; Multi-laser capacitor charge: Low.

---Disregarding unsatisfactory munitions load-out, moving on.

---Primary Engines one and two status: Green.

---Flight Check: Complete.

---Powering up thruster; sustaining vertical lift; registering null faults.

---Tempest Two-Five lifting off.

---…

---Tempest Two-Five maintaining low altitude, vector set for HQ.

---…

---No Briggs, nothing is wrong.

---What do you mean I’m broadcasting?

+++++Transmission Terminated

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“Can I ride next!”

“No I want a turn!”

“But ah just got on!”

“Emperor’s Oath, stop talking!”

The moment the group noticed Apple Bloom riding in the Sentinel’s side compartment, all but Fluttershy and Agrippa wanted a chance to ride. He explained to them that his mount wasn't for everyone to ride, but quickly realized the great irony of ponies wanting to do things normally reserved for humans. Abandoning attempts to silence them, he caved in to their pestering. Taking the initiative, Verticora designated who would be next.

“Fine, the unicorn will be next followed by the pegasus, each cycle will last no more than ten minutes. Are we clear?” Verticora said leaving all enthusiasm out of his tone.

Before, the fillies stayed within proximity to the servo skull though out the trip; making observations or trying in vain to talk to it. Now that they knew the Sentinel was capable of accepting passengers, they formed up on each of his flanks. Retaining some common sense, they took heed of his warning to keep a reasonable distance, so as not to get caught under its locomotive stride.

“Just so you know, my name's Sweetie Belle, not 'The Unicorn',” the unicorn replied.

“Terra’s-,” Verticora started, but immediately stopped himself. Not wanting to instigate another reaction, he chose to ignore her and resume the march.

Yesterday if he had been told he would be escorting ponies to seek an audience with his commanding officer, that individual would have gotten an earful from the Regimental Commissar. Alas, it is so. A part of him is afraid of how his comrades will react; he did tell them that they were neither human nor xenos. Such a vague description should hopefully prepare them for their arrival.

“How come you don’t just walk like everypony else?” Inquired Scootaloo. “I mean this contraption you got is cool and all, but does it go any faster than this?”

“It’s amusing to me for you to question the practicality of a Sentinel,” Verticora answered, suppressing his annoyance from their previous squabble. “I assure you that this machine is capable of faster speeds if it weren't for the difficult terrain. Also, notice the device mounted on the hull. It would take superior strength for an individual to carry a heavy flamer without any sort of assistance.”

The orange pegasus appears to be absorbing his description, but with extreme difficulty.

“Is being a dictionary necessary for your, uh duty?" she said after a moment of thinking.

“In a sense, one must have the skill and vocabulary to convey information across vast distances. Being able to accurately describe something to someone is essential in my field of work.”

“Like how you couldn’t say we were ponies to that voice in your floating friend?”

Until now, Verticora had taken his acquaintance’s ignorance for granted. He hadn’t expected any of them to catch on to what he withheld from Korin on the vox. This could have been much simpler if he just told them that he found a village full of ponies and been done with it, but this wild account would no doubt put his credibility into question. From there, he could easily be labeled a liability by his comrades long before he could bring proof to confirm his claims. Bringing the four ponies along would provide a more favorable outcome. Perhaps the Colonel would appreciate the opportunity to interrogate his company. However, if he were to encounter the Commissar before seeing the Colonel, the situation may turn sour if the Departmento Munitorium officer judges him too quickly.

“It’s a matter of precaution,” he responded back to Scootaloo. “Pay no mind to it. I’m sure there will be no problem.”

Remembering about the passenger cycle he promised, he commanded the Sentinel to stop. Turning towards the opposite flank, he addressed the unicorn.

“So,” Verticora hesitated, searching for the nerve to pronounce her name. ” Sweetie Belle, it’s your turn. Don’t attempt to climb till the vehicle comes to a complete stop.”

Switching passengers was less of a hassle than he thought. Coming to a halt, one hopped off and the other jumped in as quickly as reloading a las-pack. Back on task the Sentinel surged forward, following the servo skull who had been guiding them back to headquarters for the last hour or so.

Abandoning the thought of how the regiment will react, he turned his attention to his new passenger. The thought that his Sentinel was considered an amusement device unnerved him. The Enginseer would be livid if he were in his seat. However, the sounds of her enjoyment of the machine’s pace had a strange appeal. He could not attach a name to that feeling, but it was comforting. The unicorn, who went by the name Sweetie Belle, turned to watch the view from behind; which happened to be close to the engines exhaust.

“Don’t breathe in the fumes, no matter how good it smells,” he informed her.

“Huh,” she said turning in confusion. “Oh, so that’s what that stink was. What is it for anyway?”

“It is the engine expelling used fuel. It is a necessary byproduct to power the machine spirit.”

“You mean it’s haunted?”

“No, of course not, it’s a term used by our tech priests to describe the inner workings of the machine,” he said, surprised she would think it was haunted.

“What are tech priests?”

“They are venerated individuals who preserve the integrity of our machines when war or weather hampers their function.”

“So, what other kinds of machines do you have?”

Not liking where this conversation was headed, he thought to divert the questions towards something other than disclosing the variety of Imperial devices.

“We have a specialist who is adept with the knowledge of machines back where they want me, you may ask him those questions only if he wishes to answer them.“

There was a pause in her torrent of questions as she accepted his answer. Before Sweetie Belle could renew her string of questions, Verticora asked one of his own.

“So, are there any characteristics that distinguish unicorns from common equines?” Verticora said, wanting to learn something from them for a change.

“You talk fancy,” she replied, failing to answer his question. ”You’ll get along with my older sister. Speaking of Rarity, your outfit looks very weird. I’ve never seen a suit anything like yours before.”

Sort of satisfied with the additional insight, he was intrigued at what she suggested. Imagining ponies geared with any sort of attire was humorous as well as curious to him. It didn’t even occur to Verticora that they were capable of being that sophisticated. But since there is a town full of them, perhaps he should quit underestimating their capabilities. They might even have a form of government for all he knew.

“My armour is designed for protection over appearance,” he answered. “Nearly everyone wears the same uniform as I.”

“Is that thing you have on your head for your protection too?” Sweetie Belle said pointing at his re-breather.

“Right,” he simply said.

“How come?” she asked.

“You don’t want to know,” replied Verticora, trying to project his lack of enthusiasm.

“Why wouldn’t I want to know?” she persisted.

“Because I doubt very much that you would like for me to describe the variety of toxins and diseases that can dissolve you from the inside out,” he said, trying to be prompt so as not to remember the events on Medusa.

Sweetie Belle finally dropped the subject, looking confused. Whether or not she was capable of comprehending the images usually invoked by such a description, he couldn’t tell.  What he did know was that the cheery mood hadn’t changed the slightest in his companions.

‘Ignorance sure is bliss,” Verticora thought to himself. Wanting to get an answer to his original question, he inquired once more.

“So, tell me about unicorns. What abilities do they have that sets them apart?”

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“Are you certain this will be enough to support the weight,” asked Constantine.

Colonel Constantine and Enginseer Voltis had been discussing methods of how to improve the bridge ever since the tech priest arrived in the latest delivery. The quickest and simplest they had concluded was to piece together the hangar’s frame beams into a coherent pattern wide enough for the Chimera, including its freight. It was decided that the freshly repaired Valkyrie will airdrop the materials while ground personnel assist with positioning and assembling.

“But of course Colonel. This design with, such materials, can hold an excess of a hundred tonnes. Add a hundred more if the foundations weren’t made of soil,” Voltis replied, his voice distorted by his augmentations.

Since early morning, the remnants of the Imperial Guard 82nd Vendolant had been setting up headquarters at the newly discovered castle ruins. Throughout the day, they had been consolidating their resources to their new command centre, but they had to stop short for the chasm that bars their way. There had once been a simple rope bridge that connected the rifts, but it was not the ideal construct to hold up the many tonnes of equipment needed to establish a satisfactory fortification.

In the mean time, the Chimera had been unloading it's cargo just before the rift, so it was at least within line of sight instead of hidden among the vegetation. Dale had quit returning with the bulk creates and was now delivering the more delicate materials like the promethium tanks and ordinance. Nearly every guardsmen had been assisting with distribution; loading and unloading, working to get everything moved with all due haste.

Fatigue bore heavily upon every guardsman. It had been almost two days since they were all together in the mess hall on Medusa. That was where they shared what was thought to be their last meal. Although their impending doom was averted, they were still vulnerable. Until they had a place they can call a barracks, no one would complain about individual needs. Knowing some unknown cascade of events had prolonged their lives, preventing the end that was rightfully imminent, was all the motivation needed to get through the day.

“Colonel Sir,” Briggs addressed, arriving besides Voltis’ carrying his master vox. “The Lieutenant’s Valkyrie is on stand-by and awaiting your instructions.”

“It’s about time. Proceed with the delivery. We haven’t any guidance instruments or established any coordinates, so I will need to rely on you to mark a NAV point for her sensors to follow.”

“Of course Sir, it shall be done,” Briggs finished as he returned to his post.

“Good to hear, we’ve only a few hours left of daylight and I want to have this place fortified by night fall.”

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The group halted at the edge of a cliff, Verticora couldn't recall seeing this his first time through. However, he had been following his servo skull, who should be following where ever his counterpart’s located. Pausing for a moment, he began to devise a way of getting down the steep terrain.

“Oh, I remember this place,” spoke up the yellow pegasus. “We’re on the path to the ancient castle of the royal pony sisters.”

Fluttershy had rarely spoken during the entire expedition; it was a pleasant change from the ramblings from his other companions. Initially, he was interested in what he could learn from them, but very quickly the subject started to sound like nonsensical gibberish. Accomplishing nothing on finding out what unicorns do, the conversation began to revolve around something they called a ‘cutie mark’ or whatever. At the mention of the word, the three fillies became excited for reasons he could not fathom. Letting them squabble amongst themselves again, he focused on the road and thought nothing more of what they were saying.

“We made our way down this very hill a long while ago. The path continues on at the bottom,” said Fluttershy in her quiet tone.

“If you feel like it I mean,” she added after glancing back at the Sentinel.

Having no objection to Fluttershy’s directions, Verticora accepted this new information in silence as he continued to scan the surroundings. Dismounting his Sentinel, he approached the point where the ground began to decline. Following suit, his company peeked over the edge.

“Can your Sentinel jump?” asked Scootaloo, as if egging him on.

“I can see where this is going. Yes, but the drop would surely damage the hydraulic components,” Verticora replied.

“Come on it’s only a hop, skip and jump. And not the whole way down, I meant between the flat breaks scattered along the way down,“ she continued.

At a second glance, he indeed noticed several sections where the decline didn’t seem too steep. There were notable drops along the way down, but nothing his machine couldn’t tolerate.

“Very well, I suppose it could be done. I’m not accepting rides for this task, so you will need to find your own-”

“Look over there!”

His instructions were interrupted when Apple Bloom became very animated. Before he could speak out against this behavior, a low distant rumble of a turbofan entered his senses. He looked ahead and saw an aircraft hovering above the forest canopy. Focusing on the craft he quickly he realized what it was.

“Praise the Emperor, we’ve got a Valkyrie!” Verticora exclaimed, replied with looks of confusion from the others.

“What’s a Valkyrie?” Apple Bloom asked, squinting to get a better look.

“A Valkyrie is an airborne assault carrier used by my comrades,” he replied, not taking his eyes off the craft. “Where it lands is where we need to go.”

Their vantage point provided an excellent view of the forest, granting vision for many miles before them. Verticora tracked the Valkyrie traveling at a lower than usual velocity till he noticed that the vehicle had been carrying something under the fuselage. Not compelled to share this observation with his company, he wondered about what that lengthy material’s purpose was. Not a moment later the aircraft came to a stop, hovering above a position which he assumed to be their destination. The ejection of its cargo more or less confirmed this assumption and he turned to board the Sentinel.

“Listen up you lot,” Verticora said abruptly, bringing attention back to himself. “Our objective is to reach that general area below the Valkyrie before sunset. I shall navigate to the bottom of this slope first. Once I’m there you may begin your descent.”

“Oh, uh, there is one thing I think you should know about what’s at the bottom of the hill,” piped up Fluttershy, a little apprehensively.

“Well, go on. Any sort of intel will be appreciated.”

“Last time, we found a Manticore down there. I’m not sure if he’s still there, but I thought you should know.”

Highly doubting that she’s referring to a mobile multiple rocket launcher, he began to imagine the creature the rocket battery was named after. Verticora checked the promethium gauges of his heavy flamer, convincing himself that he’s in control.

“I’m sure this Manticore will be no big deal.”

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Standing well away from the rift separating the castle from the forest, Davir faced the descending Valkyrie. He held up illuminated batons, directing the movements of the aircraft. Under the fuselage, a long steel beam that had once supported the hangar, was being positioned above the rift for even clearance to deploy its cargo. It was to be the first of many that were to complete the bridge, placement of the first piece was always essential to encourage quality for the following deliveries. A point the Enginseer had impressed upon the guardsmen charged with bridge construction.

“Perfect! Tell her to bring it down before the wind rotates it again!” Mathias shouted from the ledge, holding the beam steady with all his weight.

Immediately, Davir signaled the Valkyrie to descend. The pitch of the vertical thrusters weakened as the aircraft reacted to his commands. Wish a heavy thud, the steel beam touched down, bridging the chasm altogether. Mathias balanced his way to the middle, released the tow link and the Valkyrie was signaled off to fetch another beam.

“You’ve performed exemplarily,” Voltis said in his usual augmented tone. “Five more deliveries should be sufficient for the Chimera to cross.”

Having nothing to say in response, Mathias and Davir took this moment of idleness to sit at the castle steps until the next shipment arrived. Navigating across the beam, they could now link up with Korin and Brennr, who had been stationed in the castle after they tore down the old bridge. Those two had been temporarily isolated up until now. Not long ago, Briggs had gotten a little excited over a vox transmission from them. The contents of the message hadn'’t been disclosed, so what better way of finding out than asking the source itself? A figure emerged from the threshold to greet the two guardsmen.

“Ahoy there, I see we’ve got a bridge now,” Brennr said, sounding a little anxious.

“Yeah, no thanks to you,” Mathias said jokingly.

“So, spit it out what did you two hear? Asked Davir, sensing Brennr’s anxiety better than his partner.

“The Sergeant’s made contact with the natives,” Brennr stated frankly.

Expecting Brennr to tell them more, the two took this info in silence. No one expected contact this soon with or without communication tools. With their previous questions of the Logistics officer answered, they asked the next follow up question regarding natives of unexplored worlds.

“Are they human or xenos?”

“The Sergeant said neither,” Brennr replied. “So I suppose we’ll find out soon enough when he returns.”

“You mean he’s bringing them here?!” Mathias exclaimed. “How many are we talking here?”

“Judging by the number of voices we heard over the vox, there should be three or four individuals currently being escorted by Sergeant Verticora.”

“Well, suppose we now know why the higher ups were so worked up,” Davir said. Switching on his signal batons, he beckoned Brennr to follow. “The next shipment will be here soon, how ‘bout you help us out this time.”

“Let’s go then,” Brennr replied.

The Valkyrie hadn’t arrived just yet, but they were greeted by the noise from the Chimera returning sooner then it usually did. Paying no attention to this, Davir took this moment of idleness to ask Brennr of the impending arrival of the natives.

“So, do they sound friendly?” Davir asked, no longer caring what they were.

“Personally, I think they sound a bit immature.”

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Dusk had arrived when the Chimera returned for the umpteenth time. This new shipment was less voluminous than previous loads, which prompted the Colonel to ask of the remaining materials.

“Nothing but gravel and scraps back there Sir,” Dale replied. “There’s still only a handful of munitions, but the guardsmen remaining back there could easily make room along with their existing kits.”

Doctor Graff had emerged from behind the Chimera, wheeling the unconscious Psyker from the ramp. Taking the hint that the castle is their new headquarters, he and Anders hoisted Karos’ stretcher. They were about to cross the bridge when Constantine interrupted them.

“Hold that thought Doc. Let them widen the bridge a bit before you cross, I don’t want any accidents.”

“Of course Sir,” Graff said, taken aback by the Colonel’s doubts.

“What’s the condition of our Psyker?” the Constantine asked, taking notice of who was in the stretcher.

“By all means he is a healthy patient. Whatever ails him is beyond my skills; the best thing we could do is make sure he’s physically fit and pray to the Emperor that he will awaken from his coma.”

“Very well, at least he is still alive. Not including the Psyker, what of the casualty report?”

“Fifteen are dead, all appeared to have sustained fatal injuries from bolter fire. They have been bagged and their remains are still back at the clearing,” Graff replied in monotone as he addressed casualties.

“Are you able to include their remains on the final run?”

“It can be arranged.”

“Make it so, pack everything left from the site and be sure to make this the final trip,” Constantine said, wanting to get this over with.

Consolidating materials all day was starting to strain on his patience. Despite his eagerness to be done, he knew how necessary this all was to ensure survivability; only then could he divide labor and shifts. His next priority would be to regain their bearings and learn more of the immediate surroundings. How to proceed from then on was still up in the air, preserving his own would have to come before the Imperium.

“I want the regiment gathered here before night, both the living and the fallen. We owe them that for the sacrifice they made so that we continue to live.”

“It shall be done Sir,” the Doctor said before departing with the Chimera.

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Fortunately, there was no Manticore. All that was there was an empty canyon corridor. Even with no dangerous creature in sight, there was a persistent feeling of unease. Perhaps it was the breeze rebounding off the rocky walls; or maybe what ever still lived here feared the mechanized construct of Imperial might striding through their habitat.

“Vox check: helix, echo, vermillion; is anyone hearing this,” Verticora spoke to his headset.

“Ah hear ya clear as day,” Apple Bloom replied.

“Not you, I’m trying to open a channel with headquarters,” he answered, switching off his vox. “They’re either not listening or there’s too much interference.”

“How come you say those fancy words?” Sweetie Belle asked.

“They are code words,” he started. “These measures are taken so no one could impersonate any of us and hear things they're not allowed to. It also adds length to my transmission so they will have ample time to hear it if they are around.”

Still under the guidance of the servo skull, they navigated the way through the unknown. It had been a while since he last heard the Valkyrie’s distant engines; following the noise was reassuring, but no longer a reliable compass. His bearings were brought back into doubt when they exited the rocky terrain and came back into the dense forest.

“Halt,” Verticora shouted towards the servo skull. “Are you certain we are going the right way?”

The skull obeyed, but lacked the ability to form a response. Realizing this, Verticora groaned and dismissed his inquiry.

“Never mind, just continue on,” he replied, trying to keep the impatience from his tone.

“Um, this is the correct way,” said a small voice besides him.  “We are not too far from the castle now.”

Once again, speaking only when necessary, Fluttershy stepped in to provide some guidance. Reassured by her input, they pressed on into the thick vegetation. His doubts vanished when he recognized a different texture to the ground.

“Tread marks!” He said so suddenly that the whole party paused to glance at him.

“Did you say cutie marks?!”Apple Bloom asked in a hopeful tone.

“How come-,“Verticora started. “Never mind; these tracks were caused by one of my own. All we’ve got to do now is follow them and we’ll be at camp before you know it.”

“My turn to ride!” Scootaloo exclaimed.

“Fine, let’s make it quick,” Verticora complied. Being in a much better mood to be on the final stretch of his journey, he could care less if he had a passenger or not.

With their course set, it became apparent that the Chimera had had to carve a path through the forest, leaving behind a relatively clear path.

“So,” Scootaloo asked, remembering something the Sergeant said earlier. “Can your machine go faster now?”

‘The tenacity of this pegasus,’ Verticora thought to himself. If she only knew what my proficiency was, or the circumstances surrounding my situation, would she even think twice about asking something so trivial? ’

“Affirmative,” he replied in the stern fashion he reserves for addressing officers. “Vector set; increase speed beyond reason.”

Before Scootaloo could comprehend his strange lingo, the Sentinel suddenly sprung forward. Surprised by the abrupt burst of speed, she held on tight, adjusting to the momentum. After holding the acceleration for several seconds, Verticora commanded the machine to decelerate, allowing the rest of the party to catch up.

“Not bad. Nowhere near as fast at Rainbow Dash, but still not bad,” she commented, loosening her grip on the Sentinel

“Well sure, ground vehicles are typically not the fastest mode of transportation,” Verticora said, not caring to ask who this Rainbow Dash is.

Shortly after his companions caught up, they came across a river barring their path. Dusk was already transitioning into night and he couldn’t tell how deep the water was or the speed of the current. His search lights were able to illuminate the tread marks leading into the stream, so he figured that it couldn’t be that deep if the Chimera drove through it. Returning to his authoritative attitude, Verticora addressed their next course of action.

“Looks like we’re gonna have to take this one at a time. Since we’re not jumping down a cliff side this time, I’ll help ferry you across.”

They were just about to act when a low rumble began to invade the scenery from behind. Abandoning the thought of crossing the river, the ponies consolidated besides the Sentinel. As the rumbling drew closer, the fear in his company grew with its volume.

“Stand fast my little ponies, and show no fear. My comrades approach.”

Behind them, the Chimera’s search lights began to shine through the trees. In only a few moments, they would be illuminated and Verticora would be reunited with is regiment at long last.

“T-These are your friends?” Fluttershy stuttered.

“Yes, these are my friends,” Verticora said; uncomfortable with the term, but used it reassure his companion.

“Don’t hide, don’t make any sudden movements, and let me do the talking.”

The Chimera, now visible, rolled towards them with inevitable progress. It was only a handful of meters away when the breaks shrieked. Riding shotgun were several guardsmen he couldn’t identify from the glare of the searchlight.

“Ahoy there,” said a voice from someone in the turret. “Emperor be praised, look whose back.”

The voice sounded familiar, but the sergeant couldn’t identify it.

“It’s good to be back,” he replied. “You mind pointing the light someplace else?”

The guardsmen complied, or he thought it was a guardsman. Even with the face concealed behind a mask, his attire told all; the black trenchcoat and peak cap, the last person he wanted to see.

“Commissar Holt, Sir!” Verticora said, addressing him with a salute.

“At ease trooper, this is not the place to be formal,” Holt replied in his usual calm fashion. “Have you anything to report.”

“Yes Commissar, I’ve made contact with the indigenous population and secured an envoy. I’m currently escorting them back to base for further evaluation by the Colonel.”

Commissar Holt looked down at the creatures cowering besides the Sentinel. Verticora couldn’t read what the Commissar was thinking; he remained silent, awaiting his next move.

“Care to explain why you think these animals are representatives of anything?” the Commissar asked, still maintaining his collected manner.

“Yes Sir, well,” Verticora desperately thought up the least absurd way to explain his position. “Upon arriving at the edge of this forest, I’ve encountered a civilization. A civilization of ponies and-“

He didn’t finish his sentence when the guardsmen on top the Chimera began chuckling at this humorous detail of his mission. They were silenced with a glance from the Commissar.

"There is a fine line between madness and heresy; if you exhibit neither I expect you to prove yourself before I pass further judgment," Holt stated coldly.

Concerned by the Commissar’s threat, he looked down at Fluttershy, trying to convey that his credibility depends on her to confirm his story. He made eye contact and gave her a nod. Silently giving her permission to speak, he braced himself knowing only she can convince the Commissar.

“I’m sorry, um, what is an envoy supposed do again?” She finally said.

Even though every guardsman’s face was hidden behind their re-breathers, Verticora could sense everyone’s jaw drop just as he had done earlier that day. Although he got the reaction he expected from everyone else, there was still the Commissar who remained unreadable.

“Is being an envoy fun?” asked Scootaloo .

“An envoy sounds like serious business,” added Sweetie Belle

“What would an envoy cutie mark look like?” inquired Apple Bloom

‘Oh no, please don’t mess this up,’ Verticora thought as they rammed their way into the discussion. Thankfully everyone still seemed too shocked by Fluttershy’s previous statement to notice the fillies. If only they knew how dire this confrontation could be for them and, more importantly, for himself. Unlike Colonel Constantine, whom he had served throughout his entire career, Commissar Holt was foreign to the regiment and could not begin to imagine what he would do. If he decides that they were xenos, he was as good as dead, but if he were to think otherwise...

“Well, this is very interesting,” Commissar Holt stated with an uncharacteristic attitude somewhere between humor and surprise.

“Since these creatures, talk, I suppose this changes everything,” the Commissar said, hesitating briefly at the word ‘talk’.

“So, about returning to base?” Verticora suggested, trying not to sound hopeful.

“Yes, of course, let us not delay,” continued the Commissar as if nothing was wrong. ”The Colonel needs us back before night and this development must be brought to the Colonel’s attention at once.”

Considering this as being let off the hook, Verticora allowed himself a quick sigh of relief. Remembering why he stopped at the river side in the first place, he thought to press his luck to be absolutely sure of the Commissar’s position.

“Say, could you accept more passengers?” he asked, sheepishly.

“Sure, I suppose,” the Commissar said almost unwittingly.

Without questioning the Commissar’s authority the guardsmen hoisted Sweetie Bell and Apple Bloom on board the Chimera while Scootaloo climbed back on the Sentinel. It was around this time the guardsmen realized Fluttershy was a pegasus when she took flight. Not knowing what his comrades were thinking about his strange company, he was certain he would get an earful from them once they got back.

As they crossed the river, no one spoke to each other. Still recovering from the shock of talking animals in their presence, and the Commissar’s decision to take it in stride, they each kept to themselves riding shotgun on the Chimera. Little did the newcomers know of the grim cargo inside the vehicle’s hold. Now with the new passengers, they felt less compelled to talk about their fallen comrades.