(A3) - Chapter 3: Compromise

No Glory Won

Act 3 Chapter 3: Compromise

“HA HA, the fun has been DOUBLED!”

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My recollection in Hjortland had just reached what was probably the pinnacle event of all my time there. Where we met the last of some formidable military that was left from the Olenians, before me and my Squad left the city behind. The very last remnants of any resistance left in the Deer.

And judging by her expression, I could tell Bon Bon found this information to be overwhelming.

“Olenians?” she said at first. It looked as if she couldn’t fathom what she was hearing from me. “There were Deer left in their cities still fighting, even after 5 years of occupation?”

“Well…” I hesitated for a moment. “Yes... and no.”

“Translation?” Bon Bon said, raised an eyebrow at me.

“They were one of the last ones.”

The room fell morbidly silent thereafter. It lasted for about ten seconds

“One of?” Bon Bon asked then asked, not once retreating her eyes away from mine.

“They were one of the last few that remained. There was a whole organization full of them and we encountered… I dunno, a company of them or something that was fighting ‘The Oppression’ - as they were calling it. We happened to be near their strongpoint in Hjortland when were engaging with that Panzer. Everyone else in that country was either fighting back, living in total fear and isolation, being harvested, or… Celestia know what else. Point is, there weren’t many of them left beyond that.” I finished, my ears inadvertently drooping as I finished.

Bon Bon took this moment to ponder my words, looking down at the table that was littered with documents. For a few short moments, there was total silence save for the buzzing of the light bulb above me. I tried moving my hooves, but the binds around my hooves never got any looser. I felt as if my joints were - just barely - being constantly strained, and it felt uncomfortable. What’s worse is that I’ve been in this position for an hour already.

“So what was you encounter with them like?” Bon Bon finally asked, after what felt like minutes of thinking.

“They blinded us with lights, shouting in their language as they quickly examined us. I think they must’ve assumed we were changelings, because one of them held a staff over us and... I remember a chime, but the light was too bright to see properly what it was. They didn’t shoot us, though, so that was something.”

“What next?”

“One of them came closer toward us. By that point, I knew they were deer, and I knew they were enemies of the Changelings as we were… but I was still afraid that they may kill us.”

“Why so?”

“We were luring a tank and infantry regiment over their heads - Directly over their HQ where they could’ve been discovered, killing us at any given time. If they would have opened that sewer grate we hid in, we would all be dead.”

“But that didn’t happen.” Bon Bon said. “You said one of them approached you?”

“Well, the doe spoke Ponish to us. I didn’t think there was any hope of diplomacy left when we were caught. But one of them, with clean and smooth dialect and tone, spoke fluent ponish to us. I immediately assumed she was the leader of her pack. She walked up to Brass, and said...”

Hjortland Sewers, June 9th, 1014. 14:47 CST.

“Why are you here, Ponit?” sneered the doe.

Neither of us could move, or let alone speak. Only the sound of a tank rumbling over our heads, of the rushing water from the canal, and of dripping droplets leaking from various cracks in the ceiling above us. I felt my throat tighten again.

The blinding light they were flashing on us made it difficult to see just how many of them there were, but I could see the shadows of Brass’s shape through the interior smog that accompanied the light. It looked like it came from their chests, not their weapons.

Brass, ever so subtly, moved in a position to present her chest better. The doe that knelt in front of her didn’t seem to react to it. Or more accurately, I couldn’t see a reaction. The lights slightly shuddered as she moves, however, readying their rifles as I heard the click-clacking from their holsters.

“We… we were attacking the Changelings from the skies.” Brass finally spoke, low and mild.

“We know that. Our scouts informed us a while ago of your arrival. That answers how you got here.” The doe deadpanned. “I didn’t ask how, I asked why.”

Brass fell silent for a moment. “We… we are attempting to destroy coastal guns in hopes of securing an opportunity for an invasion of the city.” Brass answered carefully. It seemed like a solid rebuttal.

But the doe didn’t seem to react to it. Again, I couldn’t see her face.

“And… how would that explain your group being so far up north that you are not engaging these said… ‘Coastal Guns’ that litter our southern coastline? And instead, have drawn the attention of a Panzer regiment above our heads while moving away from these said coastal guns?” the doe retorted, her voice slinky and somewhat immodest. I really wished I could clearly see her features through the light, to get a good idea as to who I’m dealing with. But she squandered that with her comrades’ lights

Brass, again, fell silent at her reply. She waited for a few tense moments, before blurting out what was probably the most insane response I’ve ever heard her say in a situation such as this.

“That’s Classified.”

If I wasn’t under threat of being shot for making any sudden movements, I would’ve facehoofed.

“Say again?” The doe asked, sounding utterly unimpressed.

“That’s Classified.” Brass repeated. “I can’t explain any more than that.”

She didn’t reply to that. The doe seemed somewhat hesitant in her actions and words. She darted her head towards me, and for a moment I thought she was looking straight into my eyes.

“What’s wrong with him?” she asked, pointing a hoof somewhere beyond my direction. I turned to look and found Syringe and Storm Cloud blocking the light with their hooves. Storm Cloud’s leg was still bandaged and splinted, good and proper.

“...A Pegasus... broke his leg?” The doe asked, her tone condescending and distrustful. I cringed inside at how unbelievable that scenario actually was. "How would a Pegasus be able to break his own leg?"

Brass didn’t answer at first. She took a moment to collect her thoughts.

“... Because he’s a dumbass.” Brass answered.

I turned to look behind me. Storm gave Brass an exaggerated ‘What The Fuck?!’ face toward Brass. I wanted to join him.

“And how in Tartarus am I supposed to believe that?”

Syringe raised a hoof to speak out. “Um, he-”

“I didn’t ask you.” the doe retorted sharply. Syringe wilted her hoof afterward.

“How else would a Pegasus be able to break his leg if he’s not a dumbass?”

“I’m not a fucking idiot!” Storm protested.

“Shut up!” the doe leered at him with such volume that it echoed across the sewer about three times before dying away. It forced Storm to remain silent. I heard several clicks and clacks from the weapons pointing at us, as they instinctively aimed at Storm. Another ten seconds of tense silence enveloped us before she spoke again.

“What I want to know,” the doe started, “is why you are willing to leave your other ponies to die, willing to lie to me in my face, and are willing to risk and sacrifice your comrades to follow through with this ‘Classified’ reason as to you being in our Domain?”

More silence. The question left Brass in a state of hesitant silent. Her line of questioning raised valid points. It was never my original intention to think we would abandon most of our ponies for our own mission, but we didn’t just abandon them: we left them to die to their own devices. At that moment, with guns and lights aiming at us, I felt immensely guilty and out of place.

I looked toward Brass, who still hadn’t replied to her question, as the doe stood up from kneeling. She turned around facing away from us and raised a hoof. Instantly, the guns were raised, aiming at all of us.

I was gonna die.

Time felt like it slowed to a crawl, as the horrific realization crept onto me that I wasn’t going to escape this. It felt like a black, sickly dagger had pierced my heart. Tears were pricking my eyes. I closed my eyes, and-

“Because we’ll all die if you kill us.” Brass finally answered loudly.

Nopony moved or spoke. Aside from the sound of rushing water from the canal, there was virtually no sound to be heard. Even the deep tremble of the panzer that was just over our heads had receded, as it finally started to move away from us. Brass’s outburst left everything completely still for just a brief moment.

I slowly opened my eyes. The doe lowered her hoof slowly, deliberately. No gunshot was made. The guns were lowered by just a little. I let out a shaky breath I hadn’t realized I was holding, feeling a wave of euphoric relief wash over me. Tears freely flowed from my cheeks - not out of sadness, but out of pure ecstatic relief.

“Say again?” The doe asked, turning around to face Brass once more.

“There’s a weapon that we are searching for that possesses a potential; A potential with an immense force that could possibly change everything we’ve ever known… or so I’ve been told. We’re looking for it to stop it, and if we don’t stop it before it’s too late it may destroy us all.”

The doe still seemed unimpressed. Brass gave out a long droning sigh.

“Okay, Okay…uh, this… weapon is running amok somewhere out there. About… 3 months ago, we have uncovered… hidden information regarding the existence of such a weapon in a vault underground, locked away in a secured container beneath one of our recently liberated cities - of which I will not name.”

Son of a-... She was lying through her teeth! And yet… she wasn’t exactly wrong. She was trying to remain as neutral in her tone as physically possible. Her words spoke the truth, but it was morphed and bent to fit the overtone of objectivity that Brass was possibly trying to establish.

“When we revealed the existence of this weapon to our superiors, they explicitly told us to keep this information strictly classified. But…” Brass started, as she looked around at each of the weapons aiming at her through the blinding light. “Clearly that didn’t work out as they hoped.”

“Because of the fact that we were about to kill you had you remained silent, is that correct?” the doe prompted. Brass nodded, unable to look her in the eye. “Continue.”

“Um… we, uh, we were tasked to find this weapon by any means necessary. The information we found that I’ve mentioned earlier hinted the existence of this weapon in Hjortland.”

Brass was either really good at lying, or she ran out of ideas to go on with. Either way, we were still alive because of it, and I didn’t dare to speak up. And regardless, I could not tell if she was doing one or the other.

“And that’s why you’re here, correct?” The doe asked.

“Yes.”

“Did it hint to any other locations?”

“Yes, but I cannot say where. That’s the line I’m drawing.”

“Then why Hjortland first?”

“It was the first place to look out of all of the potential hot spots for… well, I don’t really know what this was supposed to accomplish exactly, but High Command thought it was the first place out of all of the densely populated areas that was under direct occupation to start looking at.”

“Do more of these cities on this list of yours happen to reside in Olenia?”

“Not that I know of.”

“That you know of?” The doe emphasized.

“Information could always be wrong, you know. But High Command had a lot of faith in this particular piece of information, and that’s why we’re here.”

The doe was silent for a long while. She looked towards my directions, her eyes locking into mine. A sense of violation encompassed me. It felt as though her eyes were piercing into my very soul.

“The rest of your squad know of this already?” The doe asked once more, not taking her eyes off of me. I nodded furiously.

“Yes.” Brass replied.

“Then I’ve heard enough.” she said, standing tall and looking down upon Brass. She looked condescending as she peered down unto Brass Screws, but not in a way that begets spite. More of an Authoritative stance than anything. “Is there anypony else injured besides him?” She asked, pointing a hoof to Storm Cloud.

“Not that I know of.” Brass turned to look at each of us - slowly, to prevent a violent reaction from the other deer. “Ponies, status report.”

“I’m… I-I’m good.” Dominoes shakily answered. I turned to look behind me, where I could see somewhat clearly away from the light. She was laying along her backside, blocking the light with a hoof.

“I’m alright.” then Pumpkin Patch, still as ever in his voice. He sat on his haunches, looking stiff.

“No injuries from anypony else, as far as I can tell.” Syringe then piped up, still leaning against the wall where Storm Cloud is. “It’s just Storm that needs attention.”

“Nopony else then. Good.” Brass said. She looked back at the doe, still looking down upon her. “No further injuries.” she slowly answered. The doe simply gave a nod, and turned back to her comrades.

“Ota yhteyttä linnake, kertovat lääketieteen lahden valmistautua triage. Olemme saattaminen nämä turvaan.” she spoke to them in their native language. The rest of the deer seemed to have acknowledged her command, and have ceased blinding us with their flashlights. The room around us was still dark and hard to navigate, even with the flashlights attached to the chests of their uniforms.

“Voisin kysyä, miksi me autamme heitä?” another one of the deer stepped forward to speak up. I couldn’t tell what was being said. The Deer that spoke up sounded Male.

“He aikovat auttaa meitä jälkeen autamme heitä. He hoidetaan, ja auttavat meitä lopullisessa vastakkainasettelua. Ymmärtää?” The doe answered.

It was way too dark (save for their lights beaming off the cold hard floor) to get a good read in their reactions and their facial features. I still have yet had a good look at the Doe interrogating us, but I got a small glance at her physique. Her coat was Tannish Brown, wearing a uniform that was grey and black. She had some sort of furry coif fixed around her neck.

The deer that piped up was now silent and didn’t say anything else. I didn’t have the faintest idea as to what they were talking about. I looked at Syringe, who at least knew a little bit of New Changeling. I couldn’t see her well due to the darkness, and couldn’t find some sort of sign that she may know Olenian as well.

“Listen up, Ponies.” the doe announced to all of us, speaking in our language again. “You can call me Marja. We’re taking a very big risk for you here. And considering we almost killed you as well, we expect you lot to do exactly as we say. We think you may be of substantial use for our cause. We’re escorting you back to our Bastion, and we will treat your injured comrade there. You are to follow us, and you are to remain silent during the journey.” Marja must’ve referenced to Storm Cloud, with his leg. “If I find out that you are going to backstab us later on, or to betray my trust for you - which is lacking enough already - then we will execute you all.”

“What do you mean ‘use for your cause’?” Brass piped up. Marja didn’t immediately reply.

“What’s that pony saying, something… something about ‘enemies of enemies’…?” Marja asked with that silky voice of hers, almost sounding as if she was reminiscing a pleasant memory. Brass gave out a long sigh.

“... ‘The enemy of my enemy is my friend’.”

“That’s the phrase I’m looking for! We help you, you help us. And in return, we don’t kill you for interfering with resistance affairs.”

No response was given. Brass did not reply.

“I don’t know about you,” the Marja said, her voice fair yet firm. “But that sounds fair enough to me.”

The path we took to walk back was still underground, as we navigated the walkways on the sides of the canal. Taking multiple turns and detours through the tunnels made it easy to get lost as to exactly where we were. Yet, these deer navigate through them almost effortlessly. I guess I shouldn’t be surprised, given that this is their city. The lights on their chests made it easy for us to follow. They were in front, and behind us to ensure we made no effort of escape. I can tell they were still distrustful of us, and the thick atmosphere around us only fortified that thought.

I knew I wasn’t a prisoner, yet I couldn’t help but feel like one.

The walk back was by far the most awkward walk in my life. Not a single word was spoken at all between the squad and the deer. The deer spoke among each other, hushed in volume as they speak their native tongue. Yet we, the ponies, were not authorized to speak based on what Marja had said earlier. I could not, for the life of me, decipher what they were saying. We walked for about ten minutes in total. The smell of the rotten sewage water was still clinging to my nostrils, but not as intensely now. It started to dissipate as we continued to march.

We had to trek slowly due to Storm’s badly injured leg. I could hear the quiet sound of groans behind me as he limped his way along with the rest of us. Marja and the rest of the deer made no such effort to stop and care for Storm and instead told us to follow. Not that they had the means to help him any more than what Syringe could do, but the deliberateness of their refusal to help us did not go unnoticed by me.

“We’re almost there now.” Marja spoke softly. Nothing else needed to be said. She took a right turn down another divergence, the rest of us following. We traveled down a tunnel with no Intersections or turns to break off into. It was just a long, narrow tunnel that stretched down with an obtuse curve to the right as it kept going.

There was almost total silence among us. Even the canal water sounded muffled, now that the water from this canal specifically was not flowing for some odd reason. Using this moment of brief confidence I suddenly found myself possessing, I decided to be a little bold yet not also not as confronting.

“What exactly is gonna happen to us?” I asked aloud. No one stopped moving. We kept walking in formation, trudging along. No immediate answer was given.

Marja was the first to answer, though. “You will answer questions. We’ll decide what will happen with your lives afterward.” Her response was off putting… but it seemed honest enough to prevent another question from me. I stared at my hooves as we kept walking.

The tunnel continued to curve to the right, when we finally saw a faint glow encompass the left wall near the end. It looked artificial and still. “We’re here.” Marja announced. “Let me do the talking, and keep your snouts shut.” She ordered. None of us replied, or protested.

As we finally crested around the curved corner of the wall, the light from the glow ahead became more illuminant. It continued to get brighter and brighter, until the deer accompanying us finally turned off their vest torches. We soon came upon a long sandbag wall that dipped below the walkways into the now empty canal. In front of the Canal Sandbags was barbed wire, with an MG pointing down upon it. The Walkways had sandbags as well, with no such barbed wire. But they too also had MGs pointing down the walkways and towards us.

Behind each of those sandbags were more deer - about 15 or so - each of them aiming weapons at us with distinct caution. I imagine they were on extra alert, now that they saw Ponies amongst their kin.

“Joka Queen Myyttekö?!” one of them asked from behind the walls.

“Palvelen kuningatar Deer, ei kuningatar Bugs!” Marja responded back. No words were spoken for a while. I then saw one of the deer from the wall stand up and signal us to come through with a gesture of a hoof.

“Stay close, we’re not through yet.” Marja spoke to us. We continued to walk along the path near the dry canal, stopping at the sandbag wall. On the other side of the sandbags was… another wall. A big one. It looked like it was made of various materials expertly wielded together to form this kind of structure. Chain Link fences, Plywood, Metal Sheets, and so on. The wall completely blocked off the tunnel on the other side, preventing a peak through inside. Embedded in the center of that wall was a sheet metal door, bulky and heavy.

There were about 10 Deer in total on this side of the wall, guarding it. Two of them were occupying the bulky door in the center of it. The rest were behind the sandbags. One of the Deer behind said sandbags hadn’t lowered their weapons at us yet. Or, more accurately, at my squad.

“Keitä nämä nyk? Ovatko ne vielä naamioitu?” he asked Marja.

“Meillä on jo skannatut ne alas, ne ovat ponit.” she replied. The former deer looked like he’d seen a ghost.

“Ponit? Miksi ne Keltainen kylki aina täällä?”

“Se mitä yritän selvittää, korpraali. Päästä meille, ja me ehkä poimia arvokasta tietoa.” Marja replied once again. The deer with the gun at us seemed more forthcoming now that he talked with her. He gave her a nod and turned to yell back at the others manning the wall behind him.

“Avaa portti! Meidän täytyy Ponit puhua!”

“Kyllä herra!” One of the deer beside the door saluted back and answered. He then quickly proceeded to open the door and rush through. Due to the amount of deer in my way, I couldn't see exactly what it looked like inside.

“Wait for just a moment. This won’t take long.” Marja whispered toward us. The deer that disappeared behind the bulky door then reappeared not a minute later. He was accompanied by several others, one of them holding a staff similar to the one that one of Marja’s deer was holding. I assumed immediately it was another one of those “Disguise Detectors” that everyone seemed to have an abundance of.

The group got closer towards us, until we were just a couple of meters away on the other side of the sandbag. One of the deer stood out to me. He was more haggard then the rest of them, grime staining his coat. His mane was Hazel, with streaks of silver dominating much of his head. The clothing he wore was different to the others, most of these deer wore greyish to white clothing. He wore one that was exceptionally darker in color. He also wore a Mariner’s cap, whereas the rest of the deer wore no helmet or hat at all.

It struck me at that particular moment as I observed this deer that he may very well be the real leader of this pack.

“Marja, keitä nämä olennot?” the haggard deer spoke to Marja.

“Ne ovat ponit, taistelevat Sorto. He ovat täällä, koska ne voivat auttaa meitä, Vilhelm.”

The old deer did not reply to Marja. He turned his head back toward the ones who followed him. “Tee se.” he said. The deer with the staff immediately proceeded to stand on his hind legs, lowering his staff so that the crystal embedded at the end was hovering above our heads. The crystal chimed softly as it gave out a soft grey glow. It then ‘hummed’ for about a few seconds before making another chime, shifting the color from a grey to a vibrant green.

“Ne ovat puhtaita.” said the one with the staff.

“Juuri silloin.” The haggard one spoke again.“Miksi oikein olet tuonut heidät tänne, Marja?”

“He tietävät paketin, sir. Aion kuulustella heitä siitä.”

“Kuinka he voisivat mahdollisesti tietää siitä? vain meidän Partiolaiset tietää näistä tiedoista!”

“Se mitä yritän selvittää, sir.”

There was a key difference in the way both of these deer spoke. Marja was low and almost menacingly soft, whereas the older deer was more eccentric and loud. Marja’s last sentence silenced the old deer. For a moment, no words were spoken.

“Heidät pannaan vankilaan aseet ensin, sitten kuulustella heitä.” he finally spoke again, as he was fixing to turn around and leave us behind.

Marja didn’t stop. “Yksi niistä on murtunut jalka vahinkoa, ilman riittäviä keinoja käsitellä sitä. He tarvitsevat tukea.”

The old deer turned his head toward Marja, his body still facing away from us. “Emme voi säästää näitä tarvikkeita anteliaasti. Ja miksi me? Olet vasta tavannut heitä.”

Marja trotted forward and leapt over the sandbag, talking to him while standing mere inches away from his face. She spoke softly, yet her tone was firm. “Vilhelm, kaikella kunnioituksella, nämä ponit ovat erityisiä. Ne eivät ole samanlaisia kuin mitään niiden hymyilee, he eliitin. En tiedä, mitä heidän taidot ovat, mutta heidän suorituskykyään ei tulisi kieltää. He saattavat pystyä auttamaan meitä lopultakin toteuttamaan ratsiasta.”

I had to shimmy a little bit forward to get a better view beyond the small crowd in front of me. The old deer seemed to be pondering at Marja’s words, whatever they were. He finally turned his head to face toward us. His eyes immediately locked onto mine. Again, I felt violated inside-out.

“Joka on loukkaantunut, ja miten?” He spoke again, turning to Marja.

“Vain yksi niistä. Hänellä on rikki takajalka. Heidän lääkintämies jo splinted heitä, mutta he eivät voi tehdä paljon enempää.”

More contemplation. I heard the slight shuffling of hooves behind me. I didn’t bother to look.

“Selvä, Hieno.” he said, after a brief silence. “Tuo heidät, riisua niitä ja kuulustella heitä. Jos he oikeutettuja, sitten auttaa heitä. Antaa heille joitakin annokset, kun olet sitä. Ne näyttävät nälkäinen.”

Marja nodded at that, giving a quick salute, before turning to walk back toward the sandbag. The older deer continued to walk to the wall.

“Ponies, I have good news for you: you’re still alive.” Marja spoke to us in Ponish, her tone suggesting a dry attempt of humor. “But beyond that, you will be fed and your comrade will be treated. But, that is only if you will answer any and all questions we have about you. I’m mainly talking to your leader, whomever that is.”

“That would be me.” Brass spoke up, as she took one step forward.

“Your comrades will be taken refuge inside our bastion, and will wait inside until we are concluded with our questionnaire. Your comrades may move and mingle with one another, but they are not to interact with any other deer. They will wait and will follow our orders until we say so. Do you understand?”

I turned to look at Brass, who was making a face I couldn’t make heads or tails of. It looked protesting though. But ultimately, she nodded solemnly.

“Perfect. Now, wait for just a moment.” Marja said, as she patted the neck of one the deer who escorted us. “Tee lakaista tiimisi ympäri läntisen sanctum, ja huolehdimme ei noudateta. Raportoimaan kun olet valmis.”

The deer nodded, and gave a sincere salute. When he turned to leave where we came from, the rest of the escort followed.

“Now, follow me.” Marja ordered softly, as we all did what we were told. One by one, we all vaulted over the sandbag wall on the other side. Storm had to hover over it, but he did so without Syringe’s help.

“Take it easy, you’re still swollen down there.” Syringe whispered to him.

“I know, I know.” Storm replied. When we were all across, Marja led us to the bulky heavy door that dominated the centerpiece of the wall. She gave a series of coordinated knocks, and the door opened immediately after on its own.

“Ponies,” Marja turned to face us, standing inside while extending a hoof out to the side. “Welcome to the Bastion!”

We all gingerly stepped in, the bright light of the various torches littering this chasm burned my eyes a little. But it was definitely a sight to behold. The whole room was shaped like a weird cross, with four ‘wings’ that stretched out from a large central atrium - one of those said wings was where the entrance was located, where we were walking in from. The Atrium in question was a crudely constructed platform that resided over a cistern of sewage water, the platform also breaking off into separate wings from the center of the chasm. Various chairs and tables were scattered about on the platform, as well as support beams that were planted all around us. Each of them hosted a fire torch on each face of the beam. It was bright and lively, but in a bleak and melancholic atmosphere.

Marja stood smack dab in the center of the atrium and shouted, “Aarne, Jalo; Tarvitsen sinua!” at the top of her lungs. Almost immediately afterward, two relatively young looking Deer galloped front as fast as they could and proceeded to salute. Even though they acknowledged our presence with weird expressions, they quickly stood at attention.

“Tämä musta Pony tässä tarvitsee lääkärin hoitoa. Escort hänet Infirmary ja tuoda hänet Leif. Ymmärtää?” Marja ordered. The two Deer simply gave a nod. Marja twisted her head at Storm. “There is a doctor who speaks ponish, but not as fluently as I. She can help your leg more thoroughly, but you must be patient and speak slowly to her when she’s instructing you.”

“I’ll- ngh, try.” said Storm.

“You have a doctor here?” Syringe asked, stepping forward. “I can help her, if you’d-”

“No. I am at my limits of trust with you as it is. I am only asking him to go, and no more. That is all.”

“Your not gonna do some experiment on me while I’m away or nothing, are ya?” Storm almost jokingly said.

“Please, we’re not monsters.” Marja replied. She then caught onto Brass’s look and rolled her eyes. “He’ll be fine, I assure you.”

Brass was quiet for a brief moment, and eventually agreed to let Storm go. Marja ordered us to keep moving forward while Storm was away. There were deer everywhere we looked as we kept moving. About at least two hundred of them, or so. Each of them were of various colors, each of them looking indistinct from one to the next. Some of them were standing still with weapons, some were busy eating, and some were just socializing with one another. And immediately after we trotted in, some of them darted their eyes at us. I could understand why - it had probably been years since they’ve seen another pony before. Some of those looks on their faces did not look hospitable.

A lot of eyes were piercing us. Faint murmurs and chatter were heard around us, all of which I couldn’t interpret. No one spoke ponish around us. I found that actually quite odd. In all my early life, I remembered ponies would usually talk about how other creatures all spoke the same, unanimous language of “Ponish” like us. I learned almost immediately after the war started how that was not the case.

We continued to follow Marja through the crowd of disgruntled deer, making our way the very opposite side of the atrium, to the far wing beyond that. The wing ins question had another metal door that lead even further beyond the wing. “How big is this Bastion?” I asked aloud in awe.

“I can’t say with certainty, but it’s big.” was all she said. She made it all the way to the door in question and pushed it open with a hoof, trotting further inside. We each followed in one by one, staying close to one another. We were lead into a dark and narrow hallway, barely wide enough to fit a pony. Each of us were slightly cramped from the sides, the ceiling stretching up higher than what I would expect. Dimmed spotlights were hanging overhead, illuminating the room in a soft, chrome light.

The hallway did not continue on for long before we encountered another metal door. Marja proceeded through without hesitation, and - once again - we followed. We were lead to another cistern, though significantly smaller compared to the one we were just a little while ago. Like the previous cistern, it too had a platform that stretched over the body of water. The circular lake was much smaller in comparison to the previous one, and there was only one thing that claimed the focal point of the room. And that was a large, circular table that hosted many chairs around its perimeter. Sitting in most of those chairs were various Deer, including the older Mariner Deer that we saw a little while ago.

Marja stopped just before the Table, the heads of each of the spectators staring at our group. Marja knelt on one of her legs and gave a bow. “Council, I bring you Ponies from Equestria who are fighting the Oppression within our former cities now as we speak. They are now yours.”

She stepped away from us off to the side of the table, but did not take a seat. She remained standing on all fours and a stoic posture, facing toward us. Brass, Rain, Morning, Syringe, Pumpkin, and I were now caught in the spotlight. The table was cluttered with various charts, maps, graphs, and many smaller pieces of paper (which I assumed were either ‘reports’ or just ‘notes’). There were 6 Deer in total sitting in the chairs around the table staring at us, Marja being the exception. All of them were male. Marja trotted toward the Mariner, and started whispering to him. I couldn’t interpret what was being said. They both spoke to each other for a long while, before she stepped away and faced us.

All of the “Council” looked just as old, dirty, and haggard as the Mariner. They each wore different clothing, symbolizing their authority. The Mariner was the first to speak. However, he spoke in his native tongue and not ponish. We couldn’t understand what he was saying. Thankfully for us though, Marja did. As the Mariner spoke, Marja translated for us.

“Ponies, you are now in our lands. And as such, any form of jurisdiction that you think you have over us is now gone. And though we share a common enemy, you were very close in being successful in compromising the operation that we have established here. And for that I want you to recognize just how close you were to death not too long ago if what Vilhelm here says is the truth.” Marja pointed a hoof at the Mariner, who I now know as Vilhelm.

Vilhelm continued to speak, which Marja translated. “Many of our scouting parties have returned reports saying the same thing: Ponies are in our city. We want to know why.” Vilhelm was finished talking, yet Marja continued without him. “And although I have a good idea as to why you’re here, they don’t.”

“What exactly do you want from us?” Brass asked, taking one step forward from the makeshift line we were formed in. Marja spoke to the table again. One deer next to Vilhelm spoke up. He wore a greyish-tan uniform that was decorated with medallions and ribbons, though they look filthy and spotted up as if it hadn’t been washed for so long. Marja transcribed for us what he said.

“We are aware that the majority of the Ponies fighting against the Oppression are targeting specific Military Targets. We do not have details, but we are aware of the destruction of several key coastal Artillery guns, not to mention a few armoured vehicles and assets belonging to the Changelings were neutralized. But out of all the reports from our scouts, we were skeptical of just one.”

Vilhelm then began to speak up. Marja did not falter for even a second. “Your group of ponies were the only ones who were not joining the fighting far south along the coastline. And, instead, you decided to walk North towards the Royal Palace - an area teemed to the brim with Changelings that are not to be trifled with. Yet, you persisted anyway. And during a close encounter, it almost compromised the integrity of this place of refuge - potentially resulting in the deaths of many Deerfolk alike. Let it be known right now that this situation is not a pleasant one for you, Ponit.”

“How could you see us-”

SLAM!

A single, smashing hoof along the table silenced whatever pressing question Brass would’ve asked then and there, it’s boom reverberating across the chamber around us. Vilhelm spoke with a harsh tone and a low volume.

“You are not to speak, unless we finish speaking.” Marja translated. Brass sighed through her nostrils quietly, backpedaling in line. As Vilhelm continued, so did Marja.

“Regarding on what to do with your group, it is said that you were almost executed for trespassing our lands, for attempting to obscure potentially valuable information, and for almost succeeding in killing us all. In doing so, however, you’ve revealed something of great interest to us.”

Nopony dared to reply to that.

“From what I heard, it seems that happen to know reliable information of a weapon that is potentially being harbored in the hooves of the Changelings. Is this correct?”

A few of us nodded, some not doing anything - me included.

“You look hesitant.”

“We... all know of its existence.” Brass carefully said.

A few heads of the council turned to one another, their features grim as Marja told them. Vilhelm slowly stood on his hind legs, and carefully placed his forehooves on the table for balance. Slowly, and deliberately. He spoke again.

“Would you care to elaborate on what sort of weapon it is that you are attempting to find, and inevitably harbor for your own?” Marja transcribed condescendingly.

“We don’t plan on harboring it, we only-”

“Answer the question at hoof, Ponit.” Marja interrupted.

Nopony made a response for a long, cold silence. Marja looked annoyed. As she stepped forward to open her mouth again, Brass stepped forward - silencing the Doe’s words.

“With all due respect Marja, we can’t say. We are bound by secrecy not to reveal such information to foreigners, or even among our own kin - even in the face of death. And for me to elaborate on that would blatantly violate that code. So again, with all due respect

“No.”

Brass picked her words as if she was a typewriter filling a paragraph, and she struck it home with a dialect that allowed the Deer’s dominance over us to be established now. As such, no words from Marja (or any of the deer) were heard. For the longest time, Marja stared at us. And although it felt like she was pretty much biased against us, I noticed something.

Marja stared at us not out of spite, or of mistrust, but instead looked unprejudiced. She spoke to the deer our reply for a while, and the council once again gave one another more looks. Simultaneously, they began to speak among each other; as if they were trying to negotiate on what to do with us, perhaps.

Finally, they stopped arguing, as one of them silenced them with a hoof raised in the air. Immediately they ceased bickering. Vilhelm kept his hoof raised for about ten seconds before dropping it. He gave a nod to Marja, which was returned. Vilhelm continued to talk, his voice gravelly and rough like sandpaper.

“A bold presumption coming from an outsider who nearly caused our extermination. I never thought Ponies could have such arrogance in their souls. How fallen out your species must be then.” Marja spoke bitterly. I couldn’t help but cringe on the inside. Looking at Brass, she looked like she was in utter disbelief. She was mouthing the word ‘arrogant’ as she thought to herself.

“... I guess that’s something we have in common, considering that both of our species was invaded by the same pest we’ve learned to loathe. And considering that our country is still fighting these enemies and have not fallen yet, I’d say we’re doing a damn better job than what I’ve witnessed from you so far.”

Marja gave a frown. “You have no right to speak to us like that! Our Kingdom gave a grand sacrifice in the name of defending our homeland and loved ones!” she yelled, taking one step forward. It was the first time I’ve seen her raise her volume, and it kind of caught me off guard at how quickly her voice can change from being soft and silky, to cold and loud.

“Oh really? You want to talk about Rights now, is that it!?” Brass did the same, her voice very subtly quivering as if she was trying to hold back some unprecedented emotions. She kept trotting forward slowly toward Marja. “I have just as much of a right to despise and to kill anything regarding these fucking Changelings whenever possible, just as much as the next creature that’s suffered in their hooves! Do you even know how much has changed over the past few years since your government has lost?!”

Marja started to back away Brass’s rage. The council stood up, looking alert and outraged but were otherwise silent. Brass continued her rant.

“These Bugs are the definition of Insanity! They’re just… hellbent on this drive to exterminate everything in their sight! First they neuter the Deer, then they went after us. And then they went after our Neighbors helping us. Then the Assimilate the Polar Bears to join their cause; Fucking POLAR BEARS! And you know what happens next? They just keep going and going and goingto try and kill us. And they have not stopped ever since!

“They target the Yaks, Buffalos, the Crystal Ponies, the Penguins; I’ve even heard rumors that they’ve even planned to go after Nova Griffonia! It’s literally on the other side of the fucking Continent for them, but they don’t give a fuck! All they care about is war, and that’s all they’ll do! It’s like their fucking purpose - it’s as if they all had Cutie Marks related to war, and the fucking Queen’s like ‘Yeah, sure! Roll with it!’ And do you think they’re gonna ever voluntarily stop?!”

Brass stopped moving. Everything was still for a brief but noticeable moment. Ever since she made the remark about Cutie Marks, the Deer turned toward one another in confusion. (Rightly so, considering they probably don’t know what those are.) Head tilting down to the floor, Brass’s voice quivered a little.

“I know first hoof what awaits our future should we all fail: a lifetime of misery, pain and torment; unyielding and unmerciful. All I ask is a little forgiveness and a little cooperation, in exchange for my willingness to cooperate with you all so that maybe - just maybe - we could prevent any more suffering that needs to occur. This so-called weapon that high-command is stressing about is still running amok somewhere that could very much spell the end of all of us. And here you all are, trying to deny me the right of spite against my enemy and to roam around in your so-called ‘territory’ and try to stop us from preventing a catastrophe! And all because we were trying to fucking hide from certain death!”

I couldn’t believe what I was looking at. In my time I knew Brass Screws, I had never seen her like... this. She was always aggressive and maybe harsh at times, but this was different. Before she resumed yelling, a quick gust of wind billowed from under her as she rapidly ascended upward by just inches from the floor.

“I was told to fight Changelings, not to fight Deer or Ponies or Yaks or so say you. If you can maybe help us, we can help each other. But if you’re gonna be against us, then we’ll leave and do it ourselves.”

There was a total absence of sound. Nopony dared to even breathe. Marja was at a loss for words. Brass still hovering in the air quietly. Even the council was shocked into silence. I didn’t really know how to react to that. But I didn’t really like it. It seemed like a hostile silence.

Marja took the moment to recollect her senses, and contemplated quietly. She stared at the floor, not making a single sound. After what felt like an eternity, she looked back to Vilhelm. She trotted over towards him quickly, and softly whispered into his ear. It lasted longer than I anticipated, about a full minute. Vilhelm exchanged a few whispers of his own, before they both nodded toward one another. Vilhelm then stood up, and turned to face the council.

“Neuvoston ... Olemme ehkä löytäneet valopilkku kaikkein odotetuin ongelma. Olen vain pyytää sinua uskomaan vain tämän kerran.” He said. “Kysyn teiltä nyt: onko minulla luottamuksesi?” The council turned to one another, not one of them speaking. It felt like an eternity had passed already, and no Pony spoke up at all.

Then a hoof was raised in the air from the table, extending vertically straight and upright. It was soon followed by one more hoof, then another. And another. And another. Soon, all of the hooves from the council were raised in the air. Not one word was spoken. I had no clue what was happening but I strangely felt more at ease upon seeing the exchange of silent, unanimous agreement amongst the Deer.

Vilhelm gave them a nod and prompted the council to lower their hooves, which they did. Marja meanwhile remained silent and still the whole time. But upon seeing Vilhelm nod back to her, she smiled. And this smile of hers… I didn’t know how to feel about it. It looked genuine and sincere, but I did not know why she was smiling

Marja took several steps toward Brass, who had not stepped back in line even after her outburst. When they were just inches away from each other, Marja spoke first. She was still smiling.

“I respect you, Ponit.” she complimented. “I’ve known a lot of Ponies in my life, before the war I mean. And my impression of your kind was that you were all yellow bellies. However, I can clearly see that is no longer the case for your people, and calling you yellow bellies was nothing short of an insult. And for that,” Marja took a moment to pause, and bowed her head. “I am sorry.”

Brass didn’t reply to that. Marja didn’t stop though, ash she stood back upright.

“Do you trust me, Ponit?”

Brass understandably looked confused. “Wh-... Wha?”

Marja chuckled once, a dry and brief laugh. “Ponit, we would like to cease hostilities between us. Although we have had a shaky start with our encounter, it’s just as you’ve said: we have a common enemy. And truth be told, you could not have arrived at a more opportune time.”

“Wh-what are you talking about?” Brass asked. Marja turned back to Vilhelm. He simply gave a solemn nod, which prompted Marja to turn back to Brass.

“As you said before, ‘the enemy of my enemy is my friend.’ And the agreement between this meeting was ‘help me help you.’”

“We never formally set any kind of agreement before.” Brass rebutted.

“True, which is why we are setting one in stone right now. You may be able to help us, and in turn we can help you immensely it seems.”

“How so?”

“I can show you, but I need your word before we can begin. Or, if you want, I could just tell you right now what that would be. But trust goes both ways. If I trust you enough to tell you what you want to know, but you don’t trust me enough to follow me - then we are at an impasse. If you trust my word enough to listen to me, but not enough to follow me, then what good is it for us to help you with your lack of cooperation in return? And if that were the case, many Deerfolk would view you as hostiles.”

Brass contemplated deeply at this, unable to answer. To be fair, Marja was right. The exchange of mutual trust between the two of us, despite how little of it there was, was still possible. In this instance, trust truly did go both ways. I too was lost in thought, pondering about the possibility of that happening.

Marja continued, sensing Brass’s hesitation. “Think of it like what you said earlier: You asked for a little forgiveness and cooperation, and I’m providing just that. All I’m asking in return is the Exact. Same. Thing. If you can do that, then we can truly help each other here. But I cannot do that until I have your trust, so I’ll ask again: do you trust me, Ponit?”

Marja reached a hoof out to Brass. I think she was wanting to shake hooves. Brass looked down on it, understandably hesitant. “Do I even have a choice?” Brass asked. Marja’s lips formed into a small smile. Not a smirk either, a genuine smile.

“No. You don’t. But the fact that you are smart enough to realize that means that you are definitely smarter than average. Which is good, we need smart ponies. And you need us.”

“How will you help me?”

Marja’s smile disappeared. “I would rather chat about such procedures with somepony I can trust, rather than with some stranger.”

Brass had no response for that. She instead was focusing her gaze on Marja’s still extended hoof.

“My arm is tired, pony.” Marja wryly said.

“Okay okay… fine.” Brass answered, reaching out to Marja. She recoiled back her hoof.

“I need a definitive answer to know that you are serious, not just a ‘fine’. To shrug off this responsibility you now possess would be nothing short of an insult.”

Brass contemplated her words carefully. After a few seconds of wrought up silence, she finally grabbed hold of Marja’s hoof with one of her own and began shaking it slowly. “You have my word.” she answered. The two were locking their eyes on one each as they shook hooves.

“By accepting this responsibility you not only agree to assist us and only us as you are combating the Changelings during your stay, but you will also willingly answer any questions we ask of you. Understand?”

Brass immediately ceased shaking her hoof. “Are you asking me to abandon my ponies? You never mentioned that before!”

“By the definition of ‘Your Ponies’ I assume you are not referring to your squad and instead to the ones down south, yes?” Marja asked with a sly overtone. “Because if that is what you are asking, then is that really so much to ask for you to do something you already were doing?

Brass didn’t move a muscle for about ten seconds, before she sighed. “... No, it’s not.” she answered, sounding defeated.

“Splendid!” Marja exclaimed, as she turned around to face the Council. But as she did so, she paused. “Oh! One more thing, Pony - um, what is your name anyway?”

“Brass Screws.”

“Brass, I need the word of your fellow ponies behind you to also follow through with this agreement that we’ve forged. That being said, they do not have to answer to me or to the council - only to you.”

“Does it really matter, since we-... I, have already agreed to help you?” Marja’s face gave a subtle smile at Brass’s response.

“Not really, no. But this is more of a… a test of loyalty.” Marja turned their heads toward us. “Not that they’ve had much of a chance to voice their opinions and concerns as of late, anyway.”

Brass twisted her body to face toward us. I turned my head and saw the hesitantly confused expressions that the rest of us had etched on our features.

“In case you can’t tell I’m giving you permission to speak, Ponies.” Marja spoke almost humorously. None of us gave a response back.

My thoughts and emotions regarding this whole ordeal were very mixed and intertwined with each other. My common sense, my priorities, and my morals are all conflicting with each other with no decisive winner. On the one hoof, we are not really in any place to refuse her offer, as Marja had explicitly said. And if what Marja had said was true, she said she could help us if we accept her. On the other hoof, her subtlety and sense of intrigue sent off red flags for me. She seemed amicable and negotiable, but not really…. Trustworthy.

So far, besides sparing our lives that she herself would’ve reversed at any given time, she gave no real reason for us to trust her besides the fact that she said she would help us. She said trust goes both ways, but a part of me felt that she didn’t truly believe that. Or maybe… maybe I might’ve been overthinking it, perhaps? Is it possible I could just be paranoid? I didn’t really know for certain. I felt scared, confused, conflicted, relieved, and disdainful. And all of those emotions are weird when mashed together.

But one thing I was certain of was this: as much as I was distrustful toward Marja, that was not the same case toward Brass. She is probably the most righteous and diligent out of all of us. If there was anypony who could snuff out intrigue and suspicion, it was her.

And with that logic, I knew what to do.

“I trust her.” I said aloud, stepping forward just a little bit. All eyes locked on me almost instantaneously. “If Brass thinks this is the right call, and if she thinks this is necessary, then I trust her judgment better out of all of us.”

No words were spoken after my sudden outburst. Brass gave me a look that I couldn’t really interpret what it was supposed to be. Marja gave a warm, and respectful smile. I turned back behind me, no other pony followed me or spoke up. I suddenly felt a bit anxious about being the only one who spoke up. I turned back toward the Council, who gave no visual reaction.

“If Sunshine says she trusts her, then I do too.” I then heard Syringe pipe up behind me toward my left side. I felt immensely grateful that at least she was also on board. It didn’t stop there, though.

“I trust her.” Pumpkin spoke out, trotting towards my right side.

“So do I,” said Morning Dew, walking towards Pumpkin Patch. “I trust her too.”

The only one who hadn’t answered was Rain Drop. He remained hesitant and visually apprehensive. “I… I don’t think…” he was attempting to speak, but he stammered and failed to find the right words.

“Rain… just do it. It’s fine.” Morning spoke up softly. I turned to see her giving Rain a pleading look that almost looked adorable. At that expression and sentence, Rain’s resistance seemed to have melted away from his features. Ears wilting, he slowly trotted up toward the rest of us.

“We all trust each other… whether we want to or not.” Brass spoke toward Marja. Rain gave her a look that seemed… conflicted.

“Splendid then! Now we can really talk.”

Marja turned back and trotted just a couple of steps toward the table, facing the Council as a whole and not at Vilhelm specifically. “Neuvosto olen ansainnut luottamuksensa. Voimme vihdoin alkaa meidän kansannousun. Onko minulla lupaasi?” She spoke, broad and loud. The table of Deer gave no sudden reaction. Silence flooded the chasm around us, only the sound of rippling water below the platform of the Cistern could be heard.

Bom. Bom. Bom.

A single hoof was repeatedly beating against the table. It was Vilhelm’s, as he turned back to look at the other council members while beating the table.

Bom. Bom. Bom. Bom. Bom. Bom.

He was beating it at a quicker pace now, still eyeing the other Deer. Soon after, another Deer began to beat against the table alongside Vilhelm. Some of the papers and charts began to slightly float upward from the force and rhythm of the beating hooves.

Bom Bom! Bom Bom! Bom Bom! Bom Bom! Bom Bom!

More hooves slowly joined in against the beating of the table. One after the other, the Deer were slamming against the table vigorously in an unsteady and chaotic pattern. It was loud, booming, and authoritative. Some of the Deer even shouted it out in agreement as they were slamming the table. It’s echoes were reverberating off of the Cistern’s walls around us, amplifying the volume even more.

Bom Bom Bom Bom Bom Bom Bom Bom Bom Bom Bom Bom Bom Bom Bom Bom!

Vilhelm ceased his banging, and raised a hoof in the air above the table. Slowly, the table banging died down to total silence again. Vilhelm smiled softly, and gave a nod to Marja - who watched as the whole event transpired in front of her. She nodded back, and faced us again.

“Okay, Ponies, what I am about to say may very well change the course of history.” Marja spoke with a heavy tone. “But I have a proposition for you of a lifetime…”