The Fall of Canterlot

III.

The Days After

64th Tactical Command Ship Eagle’s Wing, twenty hours after The Fall

Twilight lay huddled under blankets in the bed of the Princess Suite. She tossed and turned, unable to find a comfortable position. Images of her parents, of Spike and Starlight flitted through her mind, filling her thoughts. No tears came to her eyes; they were spent many hours ago.

Chime! Chime! Chime!

Twilight shot straight up, banging her head on the metal ceiling. She held a hoof to her head, groaning. “Stupid grandfather clock,” she growled. In a huff she landed, her field opening the casing to the clock. Her field sought out the click spring and removed it. The clock ground to a halt.

Smiling in satisfaction, she sat on the bed, lifting the blankets in her field. Her stomach promptly rumbled. With a sigh, she stood up again and made for the galley. Military rations weren’t much but maybe she could scrounge up something edible.

As she entered the galley, she saw Arend hunched over a table, taking bites out of a sandwich. “General?” she said.

“Princess?” he replied around a mouthful of ham and cheese. He swallowed and set his sandwich on his plate. “I wasn’t expecting to see you this late.”

“Couldn’t sleep,” she said. She laid eyes on his sandwich and her stomach growled. “Anymore where that came from?”

Arend chuckled. “Certainly. My ship’s cooks have gone to sleep for the night, but there should still be something prepared.” He got up and disappeared into the kitchen, returning soon with a couple cucumber sandwiches and an orange. “I hope this is acceptable.”

She snatched the food out of his talons and wolfed it down. Crumbs and orange juice dribbled down her chin. “Sorry,” she said after swallowing the last bite. “I’m messy when I eat.”

He chuckled again. “Don’t worry, ma’am, I saw much worse when my children were infants.” He ducked back into the kitchen for a moment to grab a bottle and two glasses. “Since neither of us can sleep, it seems, would you care to sit with me and share this bottle of whiskey?”

Twilight eyed the bottle. She rarely drank outside of the occasional glass of wine and tankard of Sweet Apple Acres cider. But her family was on her brain far too much this evening. Dulling the pain sounded wonderful. “Sure,” she answered.

They sat and he poured their glasses. He took up his glass and held it up for a toast. “To the fallen.”

She lifted hers in her field to clink against his. “To the fallen,” she agreed. She downed the shot. Her eyes burst open and she started coughing. “Woah, that’s strong!”

He grinned cheekily. “Yes, I prefer whiskey that doesn’t pull its punches.” He poured her another glass.

She took this one more carefully with gentle sips. The booze burned as she swallowed. A gentle buzz washed over her. “I’ve been wondering, General,” she said. “Your last name is Vogel, right?”

He inclined an eyebrow. “It is.”

She took another drink of whiskey. “So are you, by any chance, related to Celestia’s bodyaide Gretchen Vogel(1)?”

He stiffened. Cold iron replaced the friendliness in his gaze. “Yes,” he growled. “She was my granddaughter.”

Uh-oh. Twilight let out a nervous laugh. Before she could stop herself, she asked, “I, um… was she in Canterlot when--”

Arend squeezed the glass in his talon until it cracked. Whiskey leaked all over his claw. “She was.”

Guilt hit Twilight like a punch to the muzzle. Her mouth flattened into a straight line.“I’m sorry…” she said. “I’m sorry for your loss.”

His eyes stared into hers and she locked up, frozen like prey before a predator. Primal, deep fear squeezed her till she choked. Her horn lit with a prepared shield spell, her wings flaring in an instinctive attempt to look more like a threat.

Then he blew out a sigh, setting his glass down. “I apologize, Princess. I didn’t mean to frighten you.”

The spell blew out. Twilight held a hoof to her breast, both to steady her breathing and calm her racing heart. “No, no, it’s okay. I’m okay.” She flashed him a sheepish grin. “I scare easy.”

“Good to know.” He frowned at his now useless glass. He ducked into the kitchen to grab another. Sitting back down, he grabbed the bottle, poured himself another shot, and slammed it back. “Gretchen,” he said, refilling their glasses, “was my favorite member of the family. I know I’m not supposed to play favorites, but, well…”

Twilight leaned forward, her brow furrowing. “What was she like? I-I mean, really like. I only met her a few times and it was never an informal setting.”

A wan smile graced Arend’s beak. “She was… spirited. Much like myself at her age. So fiercely independent. She believed in us, in the griffon people, more than any other griffon I’d ever met.” A couple of tears dripped down his face. “I… she never once used my connections to help her. She paid her own way through university and through her warrior training. She became Princess Celestia’s bodyaide entirely through her own merits. I was so proud…”

Twilight reached out a hoof to set on his claw. “As you should be,” she said.

Arend sat up in his chair, taking a deep breath to regain his composure. “Thank you,” he said. “She was my pride and joy. After her parents--my daughter and her wife--died, Gretchen was all I had left. I’d already lost my son, and my own wife, many years back.” He smiled ruefully. “And now there are no more Vogels. I’m the last.”

“I’m sorry,” Twilight said, not knowing what else she could say. She took another sip of whiskey to hide the sorrow crawling over her face. To think I was afraid of him, too. Poor guy.

“No, no, it’s alright,” he replied. “I’d already accepted that a long time ago. Gretchen told me all the time, ‘Opa, I don’t want children.’” He chuckled dryly. “No, my line was doomed to end from the moment she was born.” He drank some whiskey. “So, Princess, what about your family? I don’t believe I ever met the Sparkles.”

“My parents?” Twilight whispered. The words brought fresh pain to the wound in her soul. Determined to dull it, she drank her whole shot of whiskey before replying. “They, err… you wouldn’t have. My parents weren’t even nobility before I Ascended. Dad was a book binder, and Mom was an author. It took almost all the money they had just to put Shiny through military school. I ended up with a scholarship after my, uh, dramatic entrance exam.” She smiled at the happy memory, but after a moment her smile twisted. “They were so proud of me that day. My dad bought me ice cream every day for a whole week. My mom, she kept wanting to write stories about me. I always told her no; I was too embarrassed. Then came my wings and my coronation and if it wasn’t for Spike, I…” Tears came to her eyes. “Oh Spike, I-I never really told him how much I appreciated him.”

“He was your dragon, yes?” Arend asked gently.

She chuckled mirthlessly. “Not exactly. He was more like my… my little brother. Or-or even a son; I mean I did hatch him myself. Maybe if I’d been older I would’ve been his mommy. But I was way too young for that, so the Princess and Mom helped take care of him.” She sniffled, rubbing at her nose. “But I-I never told him that. I don’t think I ever even said I loved him. I spent too many years taking advantage of him to the point where ponies usually thought he was my familiar or something. I only ever called him my number one assistant; he liked that so I thought it was enough.” She broke into sobs, clutching her face in her hooves. “Spike… I’m so so sorry…”

It was Arend’s turn to set a claw on Twilight’s hoof. “I’m sure he knew, in his heart. Family usually does.”

She clutched at his claw like a lifeline. “He was so good to me, even when I didn’t deserve it. I was such a jerk for so long.” She fell against the table, knocking over her empty shot glass. “I’ll miss you, Spike…so much.” Twilight laid on the table until her tears were spent. When she could she lifted her head. “Thank you, General, for listening.”

Arend gave her a warm smile. “Of course. That is what friends do, is it not?”

“Friends?” She sat up, holding a hoof to her chin. After a moment, she nodded with a watery grin. “Yeah, friends. I’d like that.”

~ * ~

Ponyville, morning, one day after The Fall.

Applejack fiddled with her new mayor’s badge as she surveyed the view of Ponyville from the castle’s main entrance. Dozens of newly erected ramshackle cabins littered the land from the castle to the ruins of what had once been Market Street. None of them possessed cooking or cleaning facilities. Several field kitchens had been set up to provide food, with long lines of ponies waiting to receive their meals. As for bathrooms… until the soldiers could get the emergency sanitation facilities erected, ponies were making do with ducking into the castle (the only building left in Ponyville with running water and electricity, the earthquakes from the explosion having ruined the lines like everything else) and waiting up to an hour just to piss, or the lines of latrine trenches. She’d asked Colonel Avalanche to let some ponies aboard the airships to use their bathrooms but the Colonel outright refused, citing security reasons. “I don’t want to see anypony going postal with one of my guns,” he’d said, and Applejack had reluctantly agreed. Things were bad enough as it was. Especially with that stench.

Nose wrinkling in disgust, Applejack made her way indoors, where the smell improved. If only just. There were still plenty of ponies camped out inside the castle’s ballroom, their unwashed bodies combining into an odor not even Rarity would import as a perfume. With a smile and a wave to the few ponies who looked her way, she departed for her family’s guest room. Being one of Twilight’s closest friends had some advantages. Even if they made her stomach twist at the unfairness of it.

“Well good mornin’ Applejack!” Granny Smith squawked from her rocking chair.

“Hey sis,” greeted Apple Bloom, only briefly raising her head from her bowl of oatmeal.

Applejack trotted in and took a seat at the table next to her little sister. “Hey ya’ll. Where’s Big Mac?”

“Oh, he’s with Miss Cheerilee,” answered Apple Bloom. “They’re tryin’ ta put together some kinda lesson plan for the foals somewhere in the castle, since the schoolhouse was wrecked and Miss Cheerilee lost all her books.”

“‘The foals’ includes you, hon,” Applejack said, poking her sister in the shoulder.

Apple Bloom stuck out her tongue. “Not for much longer! Ah’m thirteen, Applejack! Scootaloo and Sweetie Belle and I’re helpin’ ponies with their cutie marks more’n we’re in school these days.”

“And Ah done told ya,” Granny Smith said, “yer not gonna skip school! Yer gonna be the first Apple in college, mark mah words.”

The teenager scowled into her oatmeal. “What college? Canterlot’s gone.”

Applejack blew out an exasperated sigh. “Apple Bloom, please. Ah know you don’t want to be a farmer forever. You’ve only told me like fifteen times. ‘Sides, there’s plenty of schools out there.”

“But Miss Cheerilee said the economy’s all ruined now ‘cause a Canterlot,” Apple Bloom retorted. “The schools’re all gonna run outta money.”

Applejack groaned. Better have a talk with Cheerilee later. “Listen, hon, that’s not what Cheerilee meant. Things’re just gonna be tough for awhile. You’ll see; Princess Cadance and Twilight’ll have everything fixed up quicker than a two-bit rodeo jockey losing in the Appleloosa rodeo!”

“Sure. Right,” said Apple Bloom, rolling her eyes.

The cowpony turned mayor hugged her sister tightly. “Ah promise, Apple Bloom. Ah’m gonna do whatever it takes to make things better.”The filly grunted. “Ah know, sis, Ah know. Ah’m just…things’re bad. So many ponies we knew’re dead, and it’s… it’s just awful.”

“Sure is,” Applejack agreed, “but you know what? Ah’m proud of you.”

Apple Bloom’s face twisted up. “Proud? Why?”

“You and your friends’ve been really mature about everythin’. Ah saw the way ya’ll were helpin’ out yesterday, runnin’ all over the place fetchin’ things for the nurses and deliverin’ food.” A smile split Applejack’s muzzle. “Just a year or two ago ya’ll would’ve just been hidin’ under a table or gettin’ underfoot makin’ things even worse. You’re growin’ up, sugarcube.”

Apple Bloom wiggled out of her grasp and leaned back with her forelegs behind her head. “Well yeah, sis, Ah’ve been tellin’ you Ah’m not a baby anymore for awhile now.” She winked.

That startled a burst of laughter from Applejack. “Guess you have, hon. Guess you have.”

A rapid knock rattled the door. “Hey, Apple Bloom!” shouted Sweetie Belle, sticking her head inside the doorway. “You up yet? Nurse Redheart needs our help.”

Apple Bloom bounced off the chair. “Yup, Ah’m comin’.” She disappeared into the corridors.

Applejack stood, pushing her chair into the table. “Well,” she said, her lips pressed together, “Ah guess Ah better get goin’ too, Granny. Duty calls.”

“Wait just a minute there, Applejack,” Granny Smith said. She waved her granddaughter to her side.

Applejack promptly obeyed her grandmother. “What is it, Granny?”

The Apple family matriarch looked straight into her eyes. “Ah want ta know what’s gonna happen to our farm.”

Applejack’s eyes darted back and forth, sweat beading on her brow. “Granny, didn’t Ah tell you? The farm’ll be fine; the Colonel said so in his report! Ah’m gonna--” Granny Smith’s hoof landing on her shoulder silenced her.

“Don’t lie ta me,” Granny Smith said, her voice falling to a dangerous low. “Ah saw the smoke from the north field. Ah know it ain’t bein’ looked over by anypony right now, and Ah know it ain’t in good shape. So you tell me, Applejack.” Granny poked her hoof into Applejack’s breast. “What’s happenin’ to our farm?”

Applejack sighed, bowing her head. “Ah’m sorry Granny, Ah just didn’t want to worry you.” She raised her head, her eyes meeting Granny Smith’s. “The farm’s lost a lot of trees. Most of the north field was wrecked from fallin’ rocks. A few landed in the sheep pen and, well, we lost most of them too. But the rest of the fields are fine, Ah promise. So’s the corn and the pigs, and the celery and grapes. So Ah’d say we’re doin’ pretty good. Better’n most of the farms round here; Golden Harvest lost everythin’ in the fires, and… a lot of others lost their lives along with their farms.”

“Hmmph.” Granny stuck her nose up in the air. “And what about the zap apples?”

Applejack grimaced, biting her lip. “They’re uh, they’re gone too, Granny. All of ‘em.”

“Oh. Fiddlesticks,” Granny scowled. Her features softened. “Thank ya kindly, Applejack, fer tellin’ me the truth. Ah don’t want you hidin’ anythin’ else from me, ya hear? Ah ain’t spry as a spring chicken but Ah ain’t got one hoof in the grave neither.”

Applejack flashed a sheepish grin. “Sure thing, Granny.”

“Good mare,” Granny replied. “So who’s gonna look over the farm fer us?”

“Well, right now the Colonel’s got ponies posted ta guard it, so nopony loots it,” Applejack said. “Soon as Ah can get him to do it he’s gonna get some Apple family ponies to fly out here and work the farm. Keep it in the family.”

“Hehe, now that’s what Ah like to hear,” Granny grinned. “Ah’ve held ya up enough, Applejack; you go on now. Git.”

Applejack chuckled. “Yes ma’am,” she said.

~ * ~

Crystal Empire, evening, one day after The Fall.

Arend Vogel stepped off the landing deck of the Eagle’s Wing onto the balcony high atop the Crystal Palace. Princess Twilight followed him close behind, along with her troop escort. He surveyed the view of the city as he walked. The sung hung low on the horizon, dipping below the edge of the mountains to the west, framing the city in a wan orange glow. The moon had already risen, as though fighting with the sun for the sky. He shook his head at the unusual sight. Other than the day before the Summer Sun Celebration two years ago, nobody alive had ever seen the sun and the moon in the sky at the same time. It just didn’t happen. “Scheisse,” he muttered.

General Shining Armor awaited them inside. “Sir,” Arend said, giving the General a firm salute.

Twilight Sparkle, grinning from ear to ear, leapt onto the General. “Shiny! Oh I’m so glad to see you!”

General Armor laughed. “Nice to see you too, Twily.” He wrapped a foreleg around her. In a more somber tone of voice, he said, “I’m sorry about Spike.”

“Yeah,” said Princess Twilight, her head low. “Me too.”

“But we can talk about it later,” Armor said. “That and… other things. Please, come with me. Cadance is waiting in her office.”

They walked through the corridors. Arend’s eyes darted back and forth as though he were watching a tennis match, staring at all the crystal. “This palace is amazing, sir,” he commented.

“You get used to it,” Armor replied.

They reached Princess Cadance’s office in short order. He bowed deeply in respect, his eyes square to the floor. This was the first time Arend had ever met Princess Cadance and he wanted to make a good impression. Or at least a better one than he had over the wireless.“Please, rise,” said the Princess of Love. She held out a hoof. “It’s a pleasure to finally meet you in person, General Vogel.”

He raised his eyebrows before taking the hoof in his talon. “Likewise, your highness.”

The two Princesses exchanged greetings, then everyone settled down in seats at the office’s table. “So, to business,” Princess Cadance said. “Shining was just about to show me the Manehattan Time’s headline story. Shining?”

General Armor nodded, his horn lighting a crystal on the center of the table. An illusionary image of the newspaper sprang into being. Arend’s eyes narrowed at the bold headline. The picture beneath was a black and white photo of Manehattan’s Time Square, with ponies lying in pools of blood, their bodies riddled with holes.

“It’s… pretty bad, I won’t like,” Armor said as he began to read it aloud:

RIOT! DOZENS DEAD IN THE STREET! HUNDREDS MORE ARRESTED!

By Mild Manner

Yesterday, Princess Cadance shocked the nation when she announced that our fair capital of Canterlot was destroyed, as were our Princesses, and she was instituting martial law. The news sent waves of anger throughout the city. Witnesses stated there may have been thousands of protesters pouring through the streets. Most gathered in Times Square; vandalism and looting was reported throughout. Soldiers from the 22nd Infantry arrived on the scene; a witness had this to say:

“...really big cannons, like huge hoses, firing off tons of water….shooting spells and ponies were falling...crowd went completely nuts! ...swinging baseball bats and two by fours. I was frightened out of my mind!”

Another witness reported the soldiers opened fire: “...all I heard was some big voice screaming ‘Open fire!’ and...explosions and screaming...saw ponies falling over, bleeding...was so scared I just ran and ran and ran.”

Other witnesses reported many of the protesters fled to Battery Park, where soldiers and police arrested the lot. There is no word yet on the exact numbers but witnesses claimed dozens were killed and hundreds arrested. This reporter personally spoke to Mayor Brandy Rose(2), who stated:

“I am shocked beyond belief at the tragedy that has befallen our great city. This loss of life is unconscionable. I want to express my deepest sympathies for those who lost friends and family, and I will be personally investigating the cause of this disaster. The ponies responsible will be punished to the fullest extent of the law.”

General Bastion of the 22nd Infantry was unavailable for comment.

“Celestia im Himmel!” Arend gasped.

“Oh my gosh!” Princess Twilight squeaked, her face tinged with green.

Princess Cadance paled. “This is not what I meant when I told the military they could use force! How did this happen?”

The General scowled. “I’ve already spoken with Bastion; she suspects it was the major in charge of the Times Square detail. She’s cooperating with local police to investigate.”

“She’d better,” growled the Princess of Love. “I don’t want to see anything else like this happening again.”

“You can be assured, your highness,” Arend replied firmly, “that my soldiers will never lose discipline in such a manner.” The very thought stirred a fire in his belly. The discipline of Equestrian soldiers was unparalleled on a global scale. They were defenders of innocents, not butchers.

“Good.” Princess Cadance took a deep breath. “Shining, I think you said you had something else to show us as well?”

“Yes,” answered Armor. He withdrew the newspaper and replaced it with a single page document. “This is a transcript of a sermon delivered by High Priest Silver Cross, in Baltimare, just over an hour ago. An Army major attending sent this transcript to me over the wireless.”

Cadance has told us, from her cold winter throne in the Frozen North that our Sun, our glorious Princess Celestia, is dead. That her sister, our dark and wondrous Princess Luna, is dead. I say this cannot be, ponies! This cannot be! They are the Sun and Moon! Eternal is Their reign! They will always watch over us, for how else would the Sun and Moon continue to rise and fall in the sky, if They were not leading them? Even should Their avatars among us fall, They will never die. They live on, in the heavens! They have simply returned to Their rightful positions as our Goddesses of the Day and Night!

I say this, ponies. I say this: we will never let anypony dare tell us different. Harmony must be maintained! Look, ponies, at the soldiers in the streets! Look upon those who would aim weapons at us, who would shoot us for daring to enjoy Luna’s Night! Those who have slaughtered our fellow ponies in Manehattan! Cadance would have you believe she is doing right for Equestria, for our holy nation! That Canterlot’s destruction was a mere accident, a fluke of nature.

But she is wrong, ponies, oh yes. She is wrong. The destruction was a sign! Celestia and Luna struck down our capital for our sins! We have lost our way, ponies. We do not honor our Goddesses. We allowed two vile, wretched ponies to become alicorns, in mockery of the form of our immortal Goddesses! We allowed them to consort with the Spirit of Chaos and Disharmony himself! It is our own actions that have brought us to where we are now! Equestria has fallen, ponies! We are sinners! And we were fools. Fools who had forgotten our true way.

But we will no longer walk that path! We will honor our Goddesses! I call upon all cities and towns in Equestria, to follow me, to join me in prayer to our most heavenly Goddesses. That we beg forgiveness for our sins! That we will always praise Them and honor Them, each and every Day and Night! And that we rise up against those deceivers, those windigos in pony skin, those who would claim to be like our Goddesses. That we refuse to follow their discordant ways! That we follow only those who believe, as we do, in Harmony! In our Goddesses! In Equestria!

“So ein Misthaufen!” Arend said, slamming a claw on the table. “This is absurd, General.”

“I’m not a windigo,” whispered Princess Twilight. She trembled all over, her wings shaking like falling leaves.

Princess Cadance wrapped her in a firm embrace, then said, “Is there anything we can do about this, Shining?”

General Armor shook his head, jaw clenched. “I wish. Free speech is a basic right under the original Friendship Accords that brought the various states into Equestria. Even if it wasn’t, Duchess Seafoam endorses his views; she was in the crowd and was one of the loudest voices crying ‘Amen!’ according to the major. Silver Cross is free to preach whatever the hay he damn well wants.”

“And if we arrest him,” Arend said, “we would make him a martyr.”

“W-wait a minute,” Twilight Sparkle said, her voice aquiver. “I don’t understand. W-why does the Duchess matter?”

Princess Cadance and General Armor exchanged a knowing look. Arend tuned out the resulting explanation; he knew damn well who Seafoam was. She’d been the one up in arms over a griffon joining the Royal Army. She’d been the one in the Council blocking his advancement at every turn when he became an officer. She’d been the one dragging out his interview for General, asking pointless question after pointless question, just to make the experience worse for him. His stomach clenched, jaw tightening as the veins in his neck bulged. His talons opened and closed as though squeezing Seafoam’s corpulent neck.

“Wow, this is bad!” Princess Twilight shouted, bringing Arend back to attention. “Really, really bad! Equestria’s going to fall apart if we don’t do something!”

Princess Cadance set a hoof on Twilight Sparkle’s shoulder. “Calm down, Twilight. Seafoam won’t start a civil war overnight. We still have plenty of time to settle things peacefully.”

“Right,” said Princess Twilight with a nervous laugh. “Sorry.”

“General,” Arend said, looking to Armor. “Do we have any contingency plans in the event we are… unsuccessful?”

General Armor shook his head. “Not yet. I have Stoneborn working on it.”

“In the meantime,” Princess Cadance said, “We have a lot of work to do.”

~ * ~

Ponyville, morning, five days after The Fall.

Beep. Beep. Beep.

Noise. Lots of noise.

Pain.

Rainbow Dash’s eyes fluttered open. Spears of light assaulted her eyes and she squeezed them shut, grunting. Dull pain filled the rest of her body, especially in her right foreleg and her right wing. “H-hello?” she ventured, her voice hoarse as though she’d gargled with gravel. “What, what happened?”

“Rainbow Dash! You’re awake! You’re finally awake!” squeaked a familiar voice.

Rainbow risked opening her eyes a few centimeters, spotting a shock of mulberry mane. “Scootaloo? Izzat you?”

The filly flopped onto Rainbow's belly, giving her a painful hug. “I’m so glad you’re awake! I was afraid you’d never wake up again!”

“Ow, stop it,” Rainbow complained. She tried to raise her right foreleg to push Scootaloo away, but nothing happened. “That hurts.”

“You’d better let her go, Scootaloo,” said another voice. Rainbow opened her eyes the rest of the way, revealing the crystal walls of a room in the Castle of Friendship around her. She laid in a comfortable bed, a blanket draped over her. Several machines beeped at regular intervals. An IV was taped to her left foreleg, a few other sensors dotting her body, making her itch. Something was hooked up to her rump. She tried not to think about that one.

“Sorry, Doctor Triage,” Scootaloo said, pulling away to sit on a chair.

The other voice belonged to a pale blue earth pony with a dusty brown mane, clad in a doctor’s smock over BDUs. “It’s good to see you awake, Rainbow Dash. You’ve been out for almost five full days.”

Rainbow Dash frowned. “Wait, what? I don’t get it; what happened, doc? Why do my leg and wing hurt so much?”

The doctor bit his lip before replying. “You might want to see for yourself.”

She tried to hold her leg up to her eyes, but nothing happened. Gritting her teeth, she tried again. And again. Finally, with a snort she raised up her head, gripped the blanket in her teeth, and pulled it away.

As she stared at the stump where her leg was supposed to be, jaw wide open, her memories from before she went under returned with a vengeance. “What the rutting hay, doc?!” she shrieked. “Where is my leg?! If I’d wanted it cut off I’d’ve let Redheart do it from the start!” She rolled over to look at her wing; as she suspected it too had been amputated, eliciting a fresh stream of curses.

Scootaloo’s ears flattened against her skull. “Please stop yelling,” she said.

The doctor looked down his nose at Rainbow. “Rainbow Dash, calm down or I will sedate you.”

With a growl, Rainbow shut her yap. “This is such a bunch of horseapples,” she groused. She tried to cross her forelegs over her chest but with only one foreleg and a stump it didn’t have the same effect she was used to.

“Thank you,” Triage said with a roll of his eyes. “Now, to answer your question, there’s a very good reason why we had to amputate.” He stepped over to one of the machines, a bulky oblong box with a tank of fluids hooked into her IV line. “This is a dialysis machine. They’re normally used to facilitate or in some cases replace kidney function in ponies with kidney disease. But we’ve jury rigged this one for something else entirely.”

Rainbow Dash glared at him. “For what?”

He pressed his lips together. “You have severe thaumic poisoning. So severe that it’s a wonder you didn’t die instantly. It’s a particularly nasty variation of thaumic radiation we’ve only ever seen a few times in laboratory testing of new weapons technologies. If Redheart had amputated you before we arrived, the radiation would have killed you within the hour.”

Her face paled. “Oh. That’s uh, that sounds...bad.”

“Believe it,” Triage replied. “In the body, this kind of radiation is self-sustaining for some reason we don’t yet understand, which renders any normal method of treatment completely useless. In your case, the radiation was most heavily concentrated in the wing and leg, but there is a smaller source lodged in your spine. We’re using the dialysis machine to remove it, but the process is incredibly slow. We had to amputate to prevent the machine from being overwhelmed.” His eyes grew cold. “Be very glad we were ordered to do whatever we could to save you. I had to devise this method on the spot; if it had been up to me I’d have declared you too injured to save.”

Frustration and fear warred with gratitude in her heart. “...thanks. I guess,” Rainbow said.

He blew out an exasperated sigh. “You’re welcome. Like I said though, the process is slow. You’re going to be cooped up for at least a few weeks.”

She grimaced, sinking into the bed. “Ugh, really?”

“That’s why I’m here!” Scootaloo blurted. “You won’t be bored with me around!”

Her mouth twisted into a half smile. “Thanks, squirt.”

Triage made to leave, but Rainbow Dash held out her forel--her stump. “Hey, doc, wait up.”

“Yes?” he asked, not even looking back over his shoulder.

“What’m I gonna do after I get out of here?” She drooped, her lips quivering. “I can’t fly anymore, doc. I can’t even walk.”

He sighed, turning around to face her. “I’m guessing you won’t settle for a wheelchair?”

“Are you kidding?” She snorted. “No way!”

Triage set a hoof to his chin. “Well there might be something, then. It’s classified so I can’t tell you the details, but given who you are, I might be able to convince General Vogel to look into it. It’s… like I said it’s classified so I can’t make any promises.”

“Anything’s better than a wheelchair, doc. Thanks,” she said, flashing her trademark cocky grin.

“Sure,” muttered Triage as he left the room.

Rainbow Dash flopped onto her pillow. “Jeez,” she muttered, “this is worse than the last time I was stuck in a hospital. At least then it wasn’t for weeks.”

“Are you okay, Rainbow?” Scootaloo asked.

Rainbow snorted at first. Then she chuckled. The chuckle transformed into a giggle, then a guffaw, then an all out belly laugh that had her twitching all over the bed. “No,” she finally answered after calming down. “Not really.”

Scootaloo placed a hoof on her shoulder. “Anything I can do?”

Rainbow Dash’s eyes flitted over the room, locking onto a copy of her favorite board game. “A game would be cool.”

“Sure thing!” Scootaloo bounced over to retrieve the board game, scooting her chair and a table over to Rainbow’s left side. Soon they were immersed in the game.

Author's Note

(1) Gretchen Vogel comes from my story The West Tower.

(2) Brandy Rose is the sister of Whiskey Rose, also from my story The West Tower.