Operation Firework

The doors to the Canterlot Royal Hall yawn open, a guard dutifully standing motionless at each side of them. You nod to them in acknowledgement as you pass; you were in their horseshoes once.

Three slender mares can be seen by the main throne - two sitting, one standing. Out of respect for the Diarchy present, you remove your ornate helmet, taking care not to scrape your horn as you’re taking it off: as protective as your armour is, it is rather awkward when it comes to the ease of dressing.

The two sitting alicorns bow their heads to you as you approach, allowing you some time to bow to them in return. The third figure notices all the bowing that’s going on, and dips her head too, as if she knew what etiquette was.

“Greetings, my loyal Elite Operative,” says the tallest of the three, otherwise known as your boss of all bosses: Princess Celestia of the Sun, bringer of the Day and its light. “I’m glad you were able to arrive so quickly after I’d sent for you.”

“I would never leave my Princess waiting, your Highness,” you rise from your bow. “Please, tell me what you need of me.”

Whatever she’s about to ask of you, Celestia has made sure you’re the right choice for it: For years, you’ve been climbing the ranks within the Canterlot Royal Guard, combining your natural talent - the ability to cast a teleportation spell on yourself quicker than most ponies can even think - with lightning-fast close quarters combat. No enemy of Equestria has led a horde without suffering a few broken bones at your leisure.

Of course, being such a secretive branch meant you don’t have quite the same rewards as most other heroes do. Twilight and her entourage spring to mind. That meant no (public) parties in your honour, nor any statues in the Canterlot gardens. Luckily, you prefer it that way.

“We are glad you’re so willing to help,” says Princess Luna of the Moon, bringer of the Night and its dreams. “Perhaps you could help us with a personal favour?”

“Anything, my Princesses,” you nod.

That’s when the third slim mare steps forward.

“My Elite,” Celestia asks, “are you familiar with this mare?”

Your eyes flick towards the third one: she’s a unicorn, thin of body, yet by no means malnourished. In fact, body-wise you’d consider her to be akin to a healthy athlete. A broken horn sits above two penetrating, bluish-green eyes that stand out against her dark violet coat. Her mane is a wild shock of fuchsia, as if a surreal fire rages behind her. The right side of her face bares a thin, long-healed scar over one eye. If Princess Celestia is often compared to a swan, the pony before you would be compared to a raven.

She’s wearing a pitch-black jumpsuit that covers her chest and flank, ending near the top of her legs. Above that, she wears an unfamiliar armour, until you recognise it as the armour set of the Storm King. Said armour - Storm King insignia and all - is painted over in liquid gold, like that of a Canterlot Royal Guard’s.

“Yes, your Highness,” you say, not taking your eyes of her for a moment. “That’s Fizzlepop Berrytwist, otherwise known as Tempest Shadow, former commander of the Storm King’s army and co-perpetrator of the Friendship Festival attacks a month ago. Everypony in Equestria knows her by now.”

Throughout the entirety of your description of her, the broken unicorn doesn’t move an inch. She just stares at you. A lesser pony would have been unnerved by this, but you’re an Elite Operative.

“That is correct,” Celestia confirms, “however, she has requested to be permanently regarded as Tempest Shadow, rather than her fillyhood name. After all, Elite Operatives perform best under a confident alias.”

You nod, thinking back to your old partner, Fatal Flintlock. That poor stallion. You didn’t know what was worse, seeing him perish in the Storm King’s attack, or learning that his name was actually Humble Honeydew by reading his gravestone.

Wait, what did Celestia just say!?

“Forgive me, Princess,” you say hastily, “but did you just refer to Fizz- uh, Tempest as an Elite Operative?”

“That I did, my subject. More-so, I have specifically hoof-picked you, among the rest of my Elite, to be her partner in the lines of duty.”

“What!? Why!? W-” you stop yourself before you raise your voice any higher, and promptly lower yourself into another bow, “With all due respect my Princess, I was under the impression that being an Elite took years of service. How did she become one so quickly? We’ve barely known of her for a month. Why not start her out, perhaps, as one of Luna’s Shadow Guard? That sounds like something Tempest would fit in with...”

“We thought of that, the idea was preposterous,” Luna waves a hoof to dispel the suggestion. “She is not of the bat-winged species required to join those elusive ranks. Do you expect my other guardsponies to carry her everywhere I send them? Also, we’re quite certain she can’t see in the dark, nor hear and speak their high-pitched language required for secrecy.”

“B-but an Elite? So soon for her? Really?”

“I know it’s unorthodox, my subject,” Celestia’s voice is as serene as ever. “But the four of us - myself, Luna, Twilight Sparkle and even Cadance - have spent a lot of time watching and discussing Tempest. She wishes to pay for her past transgressions, and her impressive combat experience would be wasted at any lower rank. Also, we are aware you still haven’t found a replacement partner yet.”

“For Flintlock!? Of course I haven’t! Not since she came along with her army of Storm Creatures, and they struck him down!” you jab an accusatory hoof towards the violet mare. While Tempest had been silent and still for the majority of the meeting, just as you jab your hoof towards her, she ever-so-slightly flinches. You’d like to think you’re unnerving her, but chances are she was just resisting the urge to lunge at you.

Celestia raises a hoof to call for silence. You pretend not to notice.

“And now we’re just giving her that poor stallion’s job on a silver platter!? That’s an insult to his memory! That’s an insult to all the work we Elites had to do to reach this point! That’s an insult to-”

”That is enough!” Celestia bellows, her hoof smacking on the ground with an echo. The sound causes you to take the most instinctive position: bowing to your princess in apology.

“While I am aware of your concerns as an Elite among my court,” (oh no, Celestia’s doing her official-decree voice) “Tempest must atone for her past deeds, including the attack on Canterlot. Need I remind you that Equestria is a kingdom that prides itself on bringing the best out of all beings, pony and otherwise? That we are a kingdom that takes reformation over banishment and execution, from the misunderstood pony to the Spirit of Chaos?”

“Princess,” the dark unicorn finally spoke, “If I may?”

Celestia says nothing, but gestures for Tempest to go ahead. The violet mare slowly takes a few steps towards you, until she’s within touching distance. From there, she looks you right in the eyes.

“I’m sorry for your friend,” she says, with a tone you’d never expect from one such as her. “But if I’m to make it up to you, to him, to all of Equestria, I have to work for it. And I can’t do that if I’m just twiddling my hooves on guard duty or getting into scuffles with the local riff-raff. That’s why Celestia personally offered me the role as your partner. I want to amend what I’ve done. Please.”

Personally, you’ve regarded Tempest Shadow in a negative light since you learned of her existence. Her cruel disposition as a Storm King Commander. Her vicious attack on Canterlot, their civilians and those working for the royal crown alike. And yet here she is, in the flesh. Not raising her voice to you, but apologising. Reasoning. Talking and breathing like a normal pony. Are you really angry at her, or simply her unusual circumstances? Can you even blame her for that?

It didn’t help that, despite the naturally frazzled mane, jagged remains of her horn and the long slit of a scar across her face, she still looks bizarrely enchanting. Pretty, even. You’ve seen many fine mares in your time, but this one is special.

“I am not without my sense of fairness, however,” Celestia says. “If you don’t think she’s a suitable partner, simply say the word, and we can assign her to another post instead. It’s your choice, my subject.”

You feel a knot form in your stomach. It sickens you to think that she could just stroll into such a hard-earned position you spent years building up to. But, if you just refuse her help, you’ll be turning down one of the strongest ponies on record. She’d be wasted in any other position and you know it. And then how would she make it up to Equestria? How would she feel, having her chance for redemption cast aside by somepony she’s just met? How would you feel in denying your homeland a potential hero?

“One mission,” you finally decide. “Make her my partner for one trial mission, and we’ll see if she’s suitable for a permanent role.”

To your surprise, Tempest herself breathes a sigh of relief, and salutes you.

“Thank you, sir,” she says like a thirsty pony finding an oasis. “I will be glad to help however I can.”

“That’s very noble of you, my Elite,” Celestia smiles at you. “I knew I made the right choice in sending her to you. And since you just mentioned having her for one mission...”

You give all your attention to your Princess. Tempest breaks her salute, and stands alongside you, following suit.

“You’re both required to join me in the briefing room, post-haste. We have a task that could use your talents. Tempest, your trial mission starts immediately.”

And with a flicker of her horn and a flash of light, Celestia disappears. She’s no doubt gone to the briefing room to arrange the required documents. While you could also teleport there yourself - that’s your speciality, after all - it doesn’t look like your new partner can teleport with her broken horn, and teleporting more than yourself long distances can be very tiring.

You leave the Royal Hall with your new partner in tow, and your mind buzzing. Tempest Shadow was the biggest recent threat to Equestria about one month ago. And now she’s practically your equal in the Canterlot’s Royal Elite.