Equestria Liberation Front

FIFTEEN YEARS LATER

Scootaloo was perched in the high bough of a tall tree, surveying Ponyville through a pair of worn binoculars. The town was mostly quiet except for the soldiers that patrolled the streets and fortified walls. Occasionally, she spotted the odd slave pony hurrying to tend to whatever errands their masters had sent them on. The charged collars around their necks kept them from straying too far from the Gryphons reach. If they did, the consequences would be dire.

Everything had gone to Tartarus so quickly. Ponyville was not the only population center struck. Manehatten, Baltimare, Fillydephia, and even Canterlot had all fallen under the yoke of the Gryphonian empire. The princesses had been locked away and the Bearers of the Elements of Harmony had vanished.

Her mouth twitched as she looked over her favorite places from her lost fillyhood. The school had been turned into a barracks for the guards. Sugar Cube Corner was now a butcher’s shop and she could plainly see some of the wares through the window. The park had been turned into a small housing development and Sweet Apple Acres, while still a farm, produced more than red fruit from the hands of its small army of slaves who toiled under the watchful eyes of their masters.

Silently, she dropped down from her perch, having seen all she could stomach. The Gryphons had taken Equestria as their own, destroying everything familiar and forcing their own in. The shift had been sudden and jarring. One day, free ponies roamed the streets and went about their business and the next they were in chains.

And the destruction had been incredible. Cities had been left mostly intact but families had been ripped apart. Those that had fought back, and they had been many, were slaughtered and dumped unceremoniously into mass graves. Those who had submitted were enslaved and many were sent back to Gryphonia.

The pony slaves were treated like livestock. Those that were too old to work were killed. Some of the younger mares and stallions were sent into the barracks as distractions for bored guards. She had even heard of ponies who had been butchered and eaten by the invaders.

Her gear was hidden in a gap in the roots of the tree, where it would be invisible to any who happened to wander by while she was otherwise occupied. Scootaloo always traveled light, carrying only water, a small amount of food, and her bow on her nightly scouting runs. She needed to stay light and swift if she was to avoid the foreigners that now occupied her home. Even her fellow ponies suffering under the tyranny of their winged masters would turn on her in an instant, if only to protect their own lives. She didn’t blame them. Many didn’t see the appeal of what she and the rest of the Cutie Mark Crusaders were doing. At times, she couldn’t see it herself. They fought and worked almost as hard as the slaves themselves for a goal that they might never achieve, but the memories of Equestria’s past and dreams for Equestria’s future kept them going through the hardest of times. It had to because there still wasn’t a light at the end of this very long and very dark tunnel.

When it became obvious that the cavalry wasn’t going to come charging over the horizon, the Crusaders and Zecora had come to a decision. If Equestria was going to be free again, it was up to the four of them. The Zebra alchemist had trained them in all manner of forestcraft. They learned how to hide their tracks and how to move stealthily. They learned which plants could be used for healing, which were poisonous, and which could be safely eaten. They learned bird calls to mask their own signals and, most importantly, they learned how to fight.

While Zecora could only teach them the basics, each filly had developed a combat style that was specifically suited to them. Scootaloo could not best Apple Bloom’s strength or Sweetie Belle’s precision and finesse, but neither of them could match her speed. She depended on swift ambushes, range, and the element of surprise to take down her foes and escape before reinforcements could arrive.

Weapons had proven somewhat problematic. The closest things they knew of that would make decent weapons were the tools in the barn at Sweet Apple Acres. After a very cautious run, they had returned with several items, from axes to scythes, that would make satisfactory weapons. While those had been swiftly abandoned after stealing true arms from a patrol they had eliminated, Apple Bloom kept them around and had come up with individual weapons better suited to their strengths.

Scootaloo’s knife was her weapon of choice. Its small size made it a quick draw with a lightning strike. She could slip it between joints in armor or slam it home in a Griffon’s head with one fluid motion.

The others had scoffed at her preference. Apple Bloom’s own blade, a long curved sword, could be swung by the larger mare with effortless ease to remove limbs and heads. Sweetie Belle’s sword was long and narrow, allowing her to slip the blade through defenses with quick and precise strikes. The longer weapons allowed them to stay at a safer distance from their opponent but she possessed the speed and agility necessary to strike without putting herself in danger.

Her petite size made her a natural scout, able to move swiftly and silently over difficult terrain. Years of training and experience in stealth made her nearly impossible to track, especially in the dense Everfree. As she ran, she avoided the soft ground as much as possible, leaping from trees and rocks and gliding on her stunted wings as often as she could.

She paused on a particularly large boulder and warily eyed the mass of leaves and sticks just a few meters away. It was a Cockatrice nest and a rather large one at that. This was a part of the reason why the Crusaders kept to the Everfree. They knew the dangers and how to avoid them. Manticore territories, Cockatrice nests, and Cragodile waters were easy to move around and provided excellent defenses against Gryphonian soldiers. The Crusaders knew this land. Their enemies did not and rarely ventured into the forest. Those few brave and foolish souls that did often disappeared. If the predators didn’t get them, traps laid by the Crusaders or the Crusaders themselves did.

She came across one such trap that had been tripped, its victim lying on a bed of sharp staves below. Scootaloo pulled a handmade map and a nub of pencil from her pocket, marked the location of the trap for reset, and continued on. Tomorrow, she would return with rope to climb in and relieve the corpse of anything useful. Looting the bodies of fallen soldiers was a grisly task but one that was necessary if they were to survive. Her own leather armor had been taken from a young Gryphonian recruit she had slain by sending an arrow neatly into his eye. He was dead before he hit the ground.

Her trek through the forest was brought to a halt as she came to a fast-moving river. She paused at the tree line and let out a low whistle. The rapids began to slow and diminish, gradually becoming calm. A massive serpent raised his head, eyes just clearing the water. Carefully, Scootaloo stepped onto the banks of the river, revealing herself to the creature. A snort blew water onto the sand as the serpent rose to his full height, towering over her. Sharp teeth glinted in the moonlight.

“Hey, Steven.” She greeted with a wave.

“Scootaloo, darling, you’ve been gone for ages. I was beginning to worry.” The serpent rumbled.

She scoffed. “About what? You know those droopy-eyed wingless foals are no match for me.”

“You’d do well to watch yourself. Confidence is nice but arrogance will get you killed. What news?”

She shook her head. “Birds still have Equestria by the tail. The Crystal Empire still sits behind her defenses, and the Crusaders still can’t make any moves. Nothing beyond that.”

Steven tuttered. “I would think that Shining Armor would want to ensure his sister’s safety and freedom as soon as he could.”

She leaped onto the scaly muzzle. “According to him, he does, but protecting the Empire is his top priority. He’s made promises to come and reenforce us as soon as he feels it’s safe enough.”

“Do you believe him?”

“It’s been over a decade.” She replied with a shrug. “I wouldn’t complain if he did but I’m not holding my breath. Do you mind?”

Steven arched his body, allowing her passage across the river. “There’s an itchy spot just between my shoulders but I can’t quite reach it myself. I’d be obliged-”

“Say no more.” Scootaloo found the spot and knelt down, wrapping her hands around the broken shaft of a spear embedded between the serpent’s scales. She gave an experimental tug. “It’s in there pretty good. Gimme a minute.”

“Take your time, dear.”

With a great deal of grunting, swearing, wrenching, and twisting, she worked the weapon free. Glad to see her friend wasn’t injured, she tossed the remains into the water. “Better?”

“Oh, what a lovely filly. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“Probably live a life in the river and not have to kill Gryphons every day.”

“Oh, I’d still slaughter the beasts with gusto, you can be sure of that. Still, I do hope you and your friends have success in clearing Ponyville in the near future. I’d love nothing more than to return to lovely Aloe and Lotus. I miss my monthly spa treatments.”

“To be fair, Steven, it might be a while before they’re back in business, assuming they’re still alive.”

“Child, I’d dry myself out to help them rebuild their lives. Those two mares have been nothing but kind to me ever since the first day I slithered through their door. They were disturbed, to be certain. It’s not every day that a sea monster comes for an herbal bath. However, they’re nothing if not professional and we managed to strike up quite the friendship.”

Scootaloo reached down to pat the scales at her hooves. “Steven, I promise I’ll do everything I can to bring the Spa Sisters back to you. You need to be patient, my friend. It might take a long time yet.”

“I’m almost five hundred years old, Scootaloo. I am nothing if not patient.”

She trotted across, giving the scales a final pat the moment she reached the opposite bank. “Thanks, Steven. I can’t tell you how grateful the Crusaders and I are for your help.”

“Think nothing of it, dear filly, but be careful. I would hate to lose a friend. I have so few left.”

Back beneath the safety of the tree canopy, Scootaloo heard Steven churn the river back to the white froth it had been before. He was part of their early warning system, ever since they had first moved into their base, and he was indispensable to them.

Closer to the base, the traps became more frequent and closer together. False trails led unwary travelers into Manticore dens and off of cliffs. Because of these, and because they had been incredibly vigilant, the home of the Crusaders had never been discovered. Nobody knew where to find them, not even the messengers from the Crystal Empire.

As she crested the final hill, her eyes fell upon their home. It hadn’t been changed much from the time they had taken over ownership. To any outsider, it looked like a bunch of crumbling and rotting ruins, the same ones that had been there for over a millennium. There were no signs from above of the network of tunnels and chambers that ran through the base of the plateau it stood on. Accessible only by pulling on a specific torch bracket, it was the perfect hide-out.

The only way to access the base from the ground was to go down a narrow cliff-side path, cross a gully, and go up again through a series of caves and tunnels that emerged a few meters from the back of the ruins. They never used the doorway but chose to come in through a broken window, well out of sight of anyone who might be watching.

The stone floor was covered in leaves, grass, and dirt. The floors and walls were still sound despite centuries of neglect. Scootaloo marveled at the quality of construction from the past as she moved through the remains of the admittance chamber. She didn’t care for how more recent buildings were constructed. It was only a short time before repairs and replacements were needed. They were built as quickly and cheaply as possible and were never built to last. She liked to think that, if the war had never occurred, she would have built fine houses that lasted forever.

The torch bracket she sought was next to a tapestry of the old royal insignia. The Crusaders had discovered it during a scavenging run. Apple Bloom had been wanting to take apart the old brackets and melt them down for iron. A quick tug had unlatched the entrance behind a nearly invisible seam. Ancient hinges had worked with little effort and no noise as they pulled the wall away and slipped inside.

She pulled on the bracket, happy to hear the metallic thud of the latch. Gripping the now exposed edge of the wall, she pulled it open on soundless hinges and slipped in. Once on the other side, she gripped the iron pull and hauled the wall shut again, giving a final yank to make sure the latch caught.

Carefully, she made her way down the flight of stairs, keeping one hand to the wall and relying on sound and touch to guide her in the darkness. There were no windows down here and the Crusaders relied on torches and fire pits to light the rooms and halls and the scent of smoke was constant. The underground passages had been built with proper ventilation and fresh air flowed throughout the base, but there was no being rid of the scent of burning.

Once she reached the landing, she followed the faint flicker of torchlight to the first passage that was part of the base proper. The Crusaders’ base of operations was massive and could easily accommodate more than the three ponies that called it home. The Crusaders themselves only used a few of these rooms and hadn’t ventured much past those.

The first large room they had come across had been taken by Apple Bloom as a smithy. She forged their weapons there, as well as a variety of other tools and materials. When she was working, the heat from the room kept the other rooms uncomfortably warm and the noise from the banging often kept Scootaloo awake.

Another large room was kept for training and exercise and it was from this room that the sound of wood on wood echoed. She followed the sound, turning the corner to find Apple Bloom and Sweetie Belle locked in combat. They wielded wooden staffs, each testing the other’s skill in two-handed weapons. Apple Bloom had a considerable size advantage on the unicorn and relied on the raw power of her blows to beat her opponent into submission. Sweetie Belle, in contrast, relied on speed and precision, carefully planning and targeting each blow for maximum effectiveness. Sweetie was ever patient as she parried and deflected each of the Earth Pony’s strikes, waiting for the opportune moment to attack.

Apple Bloom kicked out with a hoof, which Sweetie Belle dodged, returning with a strike across Apple Bloom’s back. Apple Bloom’s leather armor absorbed the blow without much damage to its wearer but, by the way she winced, Scootaloo could tell Apple Bloom felt it and would feel it for the next few days.

Sweetie Belle’s small size and constant movement made her a difficult target and the way she moved made her combat style look more like a dance. While the Unicorn lacked the Earth Pony’s strength and endurance, she knew how to build and keep her momentum, making each strike devastating.

In contrast to the Unicorn, Apple Bloom’s movement was more like an ox. She depended on her reach to keep the Unicorn at bay but seemed to have trouble getting a solid strike in. Scootaloo watched as the other two Crusaders sparred, each trying to outmaneuver and overpower the other.

Finally, Apple Bloom managed to land a powerful blow that knocked Sweetie Belle from her hooves. The mare let out a cry as she was knocked back and rolled across the floor. Apple Bloom was on her in an instant and, with the tip of her staff, pressed Sweetie Belle to the floor.

“Ah win.” She declared.

“You always win.” Sweetie Belle complained.

Apple Bloom shook her head as she helped Sweetie Belle to her hooves. “That ain’t true. Ya beat me twice yesterday.”

“As opposed to the five times you beat me today?”

“Ah wouldn’t worry too much about it. Some of those strikes were pretty hard.”

“I certainly wouldn’t want to step into the ring with you.” Scootaloo chimed in.

Apple Bloom dusted off her hands and worked to remove her armor as she turned to Scootaloo. “Ya been there long?”

The Pegasus shook her head. “Just got in. Quiet night.”

“Nothin’ to notice?”

“I didn’t say that. One of the traps, just on the far side of the river, was sprung. I’m going to head back out there tomorrow and see what I can recover.”

Apple Bloom nodded. As the unofficial leader of the group, she held final say on what the Crusaders did and when. She had the most experience with the Everfree and tended to be the most logical and assertive. The other two generally went along with what she said. “Let’s hope he’s got something useful on him. We’re gonna need to go out tomorrow anyway. We’re runnin' low on food again.”

Scootaloo’s eyes narrowed in annoyance. “We’re always running low on food. Sweetie Belle keeps eating it all.”

“I do not.” The unicorn asserted. “Apple Bloom eats more than you and I combined.”

“Ah think it’s safe to say we all need to cut back a bit more if we want to stretch our supplies as far as possible.” Apple Bloom concluded. “Hopefully, this fellow who sprang the trap will have information on supply caravans we can intercept.”

“Maybe we could start a garden?” Sweetie Belle offered.

Apple Bloom shook her head. “Ah told ya last time ya’ll brought that up. It’s too risky. If flyover patrols start spottin’ farmin’ plots, they’ll wonder who’s doin’ the plantin’.”

“Well, we’ve gotta do something. If we keep cutting back to spare supply runs, we’re going to end up starving.”

“Not to mention,” Scootaloo said, “We need to keep our strength up if we intend to retake Ponyville. We can have all of the practice and all of the best weapons but they won’t do us any good if we’re too weak to use them.”

“Don’t ya think Ah know that? Ah’m tryin’ to figure somethin’ out but we can’t retake Ponyville just the three of us. We need to wait for Shining Armor to send reinforcements.”

Scootaloo threw up her hands. “You’re still banking on that? Get with the times, Bloom. Shining Armor is just sitting on his tail behind the Crystal Mountains. It’s been over a decade and we’ll be long gone before he ever gets off his plot to help us.”

“If ya’ll’ve got a better idea, let’s hear it.”

“What if we build our own army?” Suggested Sweetie Belle.

Apple Bloom turned to her and was silent for a moment. “Where are we gonna get the soldiers?”

“We’ve got a town full of slaves just outside.”

“Slaves ain’t soldiers.”

“We’re not soldiers. Think about it, Apple Bloom, we were just three fillies when all of this began.”

“Three fillies that got training from a former soldier and have damn near two decades of experience under our belts. Besides, if they had the will to fight, they would have done it before.”

“Not necessarily.” Sweetie Belle replied. “It all happened really fast. They were scared and didn’t know what to do. They’ve had a while to sit and stew and think about how much they hate Gryphons. We could sneak some of them out in ones and twos. We train and equip them Then, when we have enough for a small force, we could incite rebellion in the town’s slave population and bring our forces in at the same time. The Gryphons have probably gotten fairly complacent by now. Hell, I’d be willing to bet they’re only keeping the minimum to guard a small town in a nation they’ve been occupying for so long. The resulting confusion from both the rebellion and the attack would send them spinning. We’d have to deal with a couple dozen. No more than that.”

“And how are we gonna supply these new forces?”

“Well, the slaves would have to take what they can get at first. Probably Gryphonian weapons and armor. That’s not ideal, I know, but it’s better than nothing. With a larger force, we can have an easier time taking convoys. Besides, taking the town would pull heat from the border and allow Shining Armor some breathing room.”

“And bring heat down on us in a big way.” Apple Bloom concluded.

Sweetie Belle shrugged. “No reward without risk.”

Apple Bloom frowned. “Ah don’t know. What do ya think, Scoots?”

Scootaloo shrugged. “We’re not getting much done as we are. It’s a better plan then sit and wait for help to come. We can watch the town and hide all we want, but if we’re going to ever see a free Equestria again, we need to start taking action.”

Apple Bloom nodded. “Alright, but we’re gonna have to pick and choose which ponies we take very carefully. We’ll need medical ponies to treat diseases and wounded.”

“An army marches on its stomach. We’ll need ponies to cook and grow food.” Sweetie Belle said.

“Definitely some fighters.” Scootaloo said. “Can’t have much of an army with just cooks and nurses. Maybe some construction ponies and engineers to fortify the town.”

“We’ll need ponies who can blend in and gather intelligence. We’ll need them to go to the slaves and convince them to join our cause and become Crusaders.”

Apple Bloom looked thoughtful. “Alright. Ah like it. Scoots, when ya go out tomorrow, keep an eye out for ponies ya think might be good candidates. If ya know ‘em on sight, gimmie a list of their names. If not, write a description. Get me, Ah don’t know, a half-dozen or so and Ah’ll see what Ah can do to get the ball rollin’.”

Sweetie Belle nodded her approval. “Great. I’m going to go and take an inventory of what we have and what we’ll need to stock up on.”

“Ya do that, Sweetie. Ah’m gonna show Scoots here that thing Ah showed ya earlier.”

“Wait.” Said Scootaloo. “There’s a thing? Why haven’t I heard of the thing? What sort of thing is it?”

Apple Bloom wrapped an arm around Scootaloo and began to lead her back around to the smithy. “Ah think yer gonna like this.”

Her furnace sat in the center of the room, underneath one of the vents. Along the walls were racks of weapons while tools in the worst state were piled in a corner, waiting to be melted down and remade. Atop a rough-hewn table, something large was covered in a length of burlap.

“Check this out.” Declared Apple Bloom, snatching away the cover with a flourish.

Scootaloo studied the odd-looking thing of metal and wood. It was pretty huge, nearly twice the length of her arm. The long metal cylinder that sat atop the wood was wide enough that she could stick her fist in it. The wood that supported the cylinder from beneath and behind held all sorts of little mechanisms, like a tiny hammer and an even smaller lever that Scootaloo couldn’t begin to guess the purpose of. “Wow. Look at that thing. That is an amazing thing.” She looked up at the larger Earth pony. “What is it?”

Apple Bloom chuckled as she lifted the odd thing. “Ah call it the Thunderstaff.” She set the rectangular wooden end on the floor and pulled a long rod from a slot beneath the metal cylinder. “Ah load it with the same powder Ah use for your grenades. Ah load sixty grains directly down the barrel.” She pointed at the cylinder. “That’s this bit here. Ah take some old paper and push it down over the powder with this here rod. Still with me?”

“I think so.” Scootaloo leaned in to look directly down the barrel.

“Ah wouldn’t make a habit of doin’ that, Scoots. Ya know how volatile this powder can be.”

The pegasus jumped back. “Right, right. So, what’s next?”

“After Ah load my powder and my wad, Ah load my shot.” She lifted up a can of steel ball bearings. “About 14 grams worth of this and Ah use the rod to push it tight against the wad. If Ah don’t push it tight, then-”

“-Then the force of the blast won’t be enough to launch your shot but will be enough to blow apart that barrel-thingy.”

“Eeyup. So, after Ah’ve done all of that, Ah open this bit here.” She flipped open a thumb-shaped latch to reveal a small metal platform with a shallow depression in it. “Ah pour only a little bit of powder into that depression, close the latch, and pull back on this tiny hammer.” She pointed at the assembly that sat against the barrel and just before the wooden rectangle. “When Ah pull this little lever, the spring on the hammer releases, striking a spark on the latch, which ignites the powder in the depression. The sparks from that powder go through a tiny hole in the side of the barrel to ignite the powder charge, which explodes and propels the shot out of the barrel and into whoever Ah don’t like. Of course, all this is in theory. Ah haven’t really had a chance to test it yet.”

“Yeah, those explosions could end up being rather loud. Don’t want to run the risk of some bird patrol hearing you.” She took the weapon and hefted it. It was rather heavy, too heavy for her but the larger Apple Bloom wouldn’t have much of a problem with it. “How useful do you figure this would be on the field?”

Apple Bloom shrugged. “Ah figured Ah’d get one, maybe two, good shots in. Takes about thirty seconds to load if Ah’m left alone.”

Scootaloo handed the Thunderstaff back to Apple Bloom, who set it on the table and laid the cover over it. “Not much of a chance of that happening. Why not stick to a bow or, better yet, a crossbow?”

Apple Bloom shook her head. “Ain’t had the knack you’ve got with the bow and a crossbow takes too long to reload for one measly shot. If Ah’m gonna be usin’ some kinda ranged weapon, Ah wanna get one good shot in. This’ll take a few of ‘em down in one go and give the rest a good scare. At least, it should.”

Scootaloo grunted. “I’d test this thing and make sure it does what it’s supposed to without blowing up first. Then we’ll worry about battlefield applications.” She gave a great yawn, stretching both her arms and her wings as she did. “Alright, I’ve been up all night. I’m going to bed.”

“Ah’m gonna keep workin’ for a while, then turn in myself.”

As she headed back down the corridor to the section they had made into a dorm, Scootaloo found her mind turning to the coming days and all of the events that had brought them to this point. Never before had she contemplated an attack against her hometown to free it from the rule of tyrants. She only wished Zecora was still with them. She had a feeling that they could have all used the old Zebra’s advice. Then again, if what had happened that night had not played out as they had, she was willing to bet the Crusaders wouldn’t have made as much progress.

In retrospect, she doubted Zecora ever intended to let her three young charges participate in battle against the Gryphons. The training was slow and there were many key gaps that they had to discover on their own. In all likelihood, the only purpose of the training was as a distraction.

Inside the dorm, Scootaloo found Sweetie already on her pallet, mumbling in her sleep. The war had affected her the worst. While both Apple Bloom and Scootaloo had adjusted to their new reality, Sweetie continued to hold onto the hope that help was on the horizon. She fervently wished that Shining Armor and the Crystal Army would stampede across Equestria and all would be right again.

That wasn’t a sentiment Scootaloo could get behind. She had seen too much bloodshed to think that it would all go back to the way it was. There would be no more sun-soaked picnics on summer days, no more Winter Wrap-ups in Ponyville. The best she could hope for was to simply kill as many Gryphons as possible before she fell under the blade.

She dropped her pack at the head of her pallet and began to remove her armor, stacking it against her pack So little progress had been made in the past few years that she had been afraid that they would spend the rest of their years hiding like rats, fugitives in their own homeland. Now that Apple Bloom seemed to have grown a pair, they’d really be able to make marks against the bird-brains.

Not that it really mattered.