The Arcturiad: Long Flight

The summer winds that whipped through the lattice of Canterlot’s streets were particularly ferocious that day, causing ponies in the shopping district to tightly wrap their ostentatious garments around their bodies. Those brave enough to step into the screeching gale were met by that ceaseless howling that gusts of air produce when they force themselves through tiny gaps. Small tidbits of garbage tumbled down the sidewalks, sometimes becoming wedged between the odd uneven cobblestone and it’s more uniform counterpart.

Shops whited with liberal amounts of plaster lined the boulevard until it curved to match the circular shape of the city. While the doors were rattling in their frames, the futile tinkles of the greeting bells attached to them reverberated through the calm shops. Mostly safe in their stores, the shopkeepers made idle work out of the slow day, rearranging goods or reading the daily newspaper. They paid no attention to the odd pair that was trudging headfirst into the uncompromising headwind, meeting the squall with gritted teeth and squinted eyes.

Colonel Gizmo Tech of the Royal Equestrian Air Force and Griselda Featherstone of Celestia-knows-where had been cooped up in the same cramped Hotel room for the majority of the week, trading terse remarks about who’s turn it was to use the sorely insufficient bathroom, or who’s snoring was more obnoxious. Gizmo, who had occupied the room’s only rickety bed, snored with a certain bravado that made even the most veteran night-goers quake with a fear that some hideous monster was just around the corner. Griselda’s snores, while milder in magnitude than Gizmo’s, were amplified by the acoustics of the rafters. She had constructed a makeshift roost of pillows and blankets up near the thatched roof; making sure that that her rough wheezing was as robust as Gizmo’s raspy snores.

Together they raised more noise complaints for The Steadfast Guardian than it would receive in a normal year. The only reason the two had not been evicted from their sparse accommodations by their now virulent accommodators was some coercion by the Equestrian Government, who were so proud of the supposed bureaucratic genius that was housing Gizmo and Griselda together in order to cut costs that they refused to place the two anywhere else. Thus, Gizmo and Griselda found themselves tramping down the street. Soupy sleep deprivation hung bags as heavy as mountains underneath their eyes.

The main War Office of Equestria’s armed forces sat directly in the center of the Royal Palace, as to allow a quick consultation of the princesses should the need arrive. It was here that the legislative tendrils of the Equestrian government tangled with the corrosive arteries of the military. Here, rifles were just as abundant as quills and parchment. The remnants of the complacency and ineptitude that plagued the pre-war era, before the Equestrians realized they weren’t invincible in Canterlot’s tall white spires, were just beginning to fade.

There was an absolutely copious amount of guards patrolling the corridors, making sure that every inch of space was under surveillance at all times. Assorted checkpoints were the only places one could pass through the lofty barbed fence that surrounded the palace. Long, winding lines of beleaguered ponies waited in the wind, desperately clutching their identification papers or bags to their chests. Every once in a while, a pony that lacked the proper paperwork would be led away from the checkpoint by a contingent of guards.

It was the third time that week that Gizmo and Griselda stood in those lines. The top brass at the War Office demanded multiple times that Griselda be interviewed by somepony of higher rank, making Gizmo escort her back and forth until his hooves were sore. After a period of time with the length of an hour and the potency of three, the odd pair finally made their way up to the checkpoint. Gizmo had already prepared the entrance documents that the War Office had given them before their first visit. Twenty pages of the Equestrian bureaucracy’s finest background checks, identification, and superfluities were thrust into the hooves of a young pegasus guard.

The guard looked at the heap in front of him with an anguished look in his eyes, he had clearly been meticulously rifling through hundreds of pages of documents that day. He nonchalantly flipped through the hefty packet before throwing it back at Gizmo. “Sorry Colonel, it’s not the right paperwork.”

Gizmo was absolutely shocked. “Not the right paperwork?” he said with a sharp hint of agitation, “it’s been ‘the right paperwork’ for the past week! What changed?”

The guard rolled his eyes and brought a hoof up to his face. “Look sir, if you want us to escort you over to the processing office I’m sure that they could sort this whole mess out for you.”

With that, Gizmo’s jaw dropped. The processing office was Equestria’s premier cesspool of incompetence, laziness, and messiness. It didn’t help that it was one of the most underfunded and understaffed parts of the Equestrian Military; there was no glamour in paperwork. Cases often took hours just to be heard and an even longer period of time to be processed. Those who went into the processing office often came out insane, exhausted, or a combination of both. Gizmo knew that if he and Griselda went there, they would probably never see the light of day again.

Gizmo was about to let loose a raucous protest when he was interrupted by a familiar gravelly voice. “That’s quite alright Airman, you can let them through.” Brigadier General Lightningcloud was grinning from ear to ear when he strode over to the guard post. “I can assure you that the Colonel and his friend are vital to the promotion of Equestria and her interests.”

“B-but sir, that’s not protocol“ he stammered

“Do it, Airman.” Lightningcloud growled, getting in the quivering guard’s face.

With that, the guard stepped aside allowing Gizmo and Griselda to pass through the gates easily. Lightningcloud gestured for them to follow him and eyed the large stack of paperwork that Gizmo was carrying. “You might want to discard that, Colonel.” He chuckled, “this is going to be the last time you need to escort Ms. Featherbolt here.” Gizmo raised his eyebrow but was nonetheless eager to throw the large stack of identification into the nearest garbage can.

They took their usual route through the enormous castle, pushing through the crowds of ponies and soldiers that clogged the hallways. As they reached the back of the castle, the long staircase that led to the central war room stood like a dark maw, waiting to swallow whatever unfortunate soul that dared to venture into that inky abyss. The main war office had been built in the royal palace’s old dungeons to protect it from an unlikely bombing raid. Griselda moved directly towards the stairs and stood on the dark portal. She looked back at Gizmo and Lightningcloud with hesitation before moving past the guards stationed at each side and descended the rough-hewn steps.

Gizmo turned to leave. He intended to go back to his room and re-pack for his trip back to Vanhoover. The lab had remained without an established leader for quite some time now and he was anxious to get back. Gizmo had almost turned completely around when a wing wrapped itself around him. “Let’s go get lunch, Colonel, my treat.” Lightningcloud said, something mischievous dancing around in the backs of his eyes.

They were standing in the middle of the hallway, annoyed ponies pushed past them. Gizmo felt a twinge of apprehension from the way that Lightiningcloud was looking at him. He always felt, despite the difference in their rank, the two of them were equal, and Gizmo made a point to act like it. Lightningcloud stood next to him, wing wrapped around his back, grinning profusely, eagerly awaiting Gizmo’s answer. Gizmo averted his eyes and bit down nervously his lip.

“Well, Colonel? How about it?” Lightningcloud asked again

“Actually, I was going to head back to the hotel. My leave is ending and I need to-“

“Forget about that!” Lightningcloud barked, eyes shrinking into thin slits. He squeezed Gizmo even tighter with his wing. “I’m sure you’ll have plenty of time to pack later.”

Gizmo slowly nodded his head, a deep frown creasing his brow. A small glint of triumph flickered in Lightningcloud’s eyes and the toothy grin returned to his face. “C’mon, there’s a great outdoor café in the courtyard.” The two began walking abreast down the corridor. Lightningcloud never let go of Gizmo, keeping him far too close with his wing. Gizmo almost asked his unusually enthusiastic companion about his overt cordiality, but Lightningcloud’s laser focus on the hallway in front of him kept Gizmo’s jaw wired shut.

Once they got out of the main body of the castle, Gizmo had to squint to alleviate the searing pain the burning noon sun put in his unadjusted eyes. The windows on the side of the white castle were polished like sterling mirrors; every single particle of light that splashed onto the walls reflected straight off. Aristocratic ponies sat at checkered tables under frilly umbrellas. They threw genteel little nods and greetings towards Lightningcloud, who dragged Gizmo over and began introducing the reluctant colonel. “Fillies and gentlecolts, I would like to introduce the illustrious Colonel Gizmo Tech, one of the finest minds the Air Force has to offer.”

Gizmo just stood there and smiled awkwardly in front of the group. The aristocrats and Lightningcloud made conversation for an unbearably long amount of time, throwing their heads back in pompous laughter every once in a while. Lightningcloud finished talking and waved farewell to his claque, but not before lingering even longer on the superfluities. He brought Gizmo over to a table secluded in one of the grassy corners in the courtyard. The blistering heat being reflected off the walls cooked Gizmo in his full uniform.

After a few minutes of silence, Lightningcloud asked for two glasses of water from a cheery looking waitress. He opened a pocket in his coat and took out a crumpled packet of cigarettes. Gripping one between the primary feathers of his wing, he blew on the tip to dispel some specks of dirt. Then, holding the cigarette aloft, he took out a gilded lighter with a bleached ivory elephant on the front. He was about to hold the cigarette to the gently flickering flame before he looked Gizmo directly in the eyes, “you don’t uh… have a family, do you? No significant other or…” he trailed off and gestured vaguely in the air.

“No, General.” Gizmo replied, “Now what the hell is this about?”

“Good.” Lightningcloud said contentedly before lighting his cigarette and taking a long drag. He let his jaw hang open and the thick, acrid smoke rolled past his lips like some carcinogenic fog. As the smoke wafted past his eyes, Lightningcloud looked past Gizmo, lost in thought. After a few seconds he allowed his head to roll back towards Gizmo. With his eyebrows raised, he asked “What did you think of General Farflight?”

Major General Farflight had been the commanding officer on the aircraft development projects for the Equestrian Air Force before Gizmo took over. He had been, like Lightningcloud, a whip smart protégé of Celestia. During the air raid on Vanhoover’s main airfield, Farflight had rushed back into the burning remains of the dance hall to recover some of his injured comrades. When the fire died down and recovery efforts had begun, his mangled body was quickly dragged out from under a large I-beam.

“I thought he was alright.” Gizmo replied, “he took me out to lunch once, bought me something besides water.”

Lightningcloud let out a deep chuckle and allowed a wistful smile to cross his lips. “That’s the kind of thing the bastard would have done. He always did have a certain…” Lightningcloud waved his cigarette around “sentimentality.” he took another long drag.

The sun was directly above them now, beating down onto all who sat in the courtyard. The backs of their necks were beginning to become soaked with perspiration, coating them with a sticky film of sweat. The waitress brought two glasses of chilly ice water over to the table, along with an ashtray for Lightningcloud’s cigarette. Those tiny drops of condensation that form on cold surfaces during hot days ran down the sides of the glasses, forming dark wet circles on the white tablecloth.

The two spend a few minutes in silence again, Gizmo sipping on his water and Lightningcloud puffing on his cigarette. Eventually, Lightningcloud turned back to Gizmo again. “Can I be candid with you, colonel?” he asked, tapping his cigarette on the ashtray.

“I don’t see why not.” Gizmo replied.

Lightningcloud leaned forward in his chair, his breath causing the petals on the rose centerpiece to quiver. “I don’t fucking like you.” He growled.

Gizmo was a little taken aback. “Well General, I’m not too fond of you either,” he huffed.

Lightningcloud ignored him. He held his cigarette in front of his face, and stared deeply into the embers of the smoldering tip. “Farflight was the best of the best, there’s no doubt about it, but there’s one thing that he always would forget.” He paused briefly, “words like ‘bravery’ and ‘honor’, they’re reserved for the ponies who are supposed to give and get shot.”

There were no words in Gizmo’s mouth and a hard knot was forming in the depths of his stomach. He stayed silent while Lightningcloud continued his rant.

“But Farflight did know this, there are only two ways for stallions like you and me to get ahead: know the right ponies…” he gestured towards himself “… or be in the right place at the right time.” He pointed his cigarette directly at Gizmo. “But here’s the thing I don’t get. You’re never gonna be able to match up to Farflight, that’s obvious, so why the hell did you take his job?”

Gizmo thought for a moment, his brow furrowing in concentration. He had never really thought about his own reasoning before. The War Office had hit him with the offer of a commission shortly after the air raid, and he didn’t really have any time to consider. “I-I don’t know.” Gizmo stammered, “I guess I thought that it would be a good way for me to help with something that was bigger than me.”

Lightningcloud let out a burst of raucous laughter, disturbing the diners even on the furthest sides of the courtyard, before leaning in uncomfortably close. “That’s the only thing I love about you, Gizmo Tech, you’re cynical about everypony’s motives but your own.” He let out another brief chuckle, “but who knows, maybe you’ll get the opportunity to ‘help with something that’s bigger than you’ sooner than you think.” He flashed an eerie smile and jammed his cigarette into the ashtray in front of him, swiftly extinguishing it.

After a few seconds, Lightningcloud withdrew his face away from Gizmo’s and stood up. The waitress came over to the two and stood there expectantly. “Are you boys ready to order?” she asked.

“No, thanks.” Lightningcloud responded. “We’re absolutely stuffed.”

A tangible twinge of annoyance flashed across the waitress’ face before she composed herself. “Alright then, y’all have a nice day.”

Off in the distance, a monstrous wooden clock tower with flecks of paint peeling off the sides let off a single, sonorous chime. The wind carried that sound all the way to the castle, where many of the ponies began to return to their daily work. Lightningcloud turned to Gizmo again. “Alright Colonel, it’s time to go pick up Ms. Featherbolt.”

Gizmo cocked his head to the side in confusion. “I thought you said this was gonna be the last time I escorted her.” He replied

The same eerie smile returned to Lightningcloud’s lips. “I never said that. Now c’mon.”

The walk back to the mouth of the War Room took even longer than the walk to the courtyard. Gizmo and Lightningcloud struggled to stay together, forcing themselves against a fast moving river of ponies returning from their lunch breaks. When they finally reached the long, winding staircase downwards, the two generic guards had been replaced with members of Celestia’s personal guard. The two stood in resplendent white and gold uniforms, peaked caps emblazoned with silver embroidery. Ever since the changeling attack on Canterlot, Celestia’s Royal Guards had been reformed from some flashy ceremonial unit to one of the most elite fighting forces in the Equestiran Military. They stood tall, holding their rifles deadly still.

As Gizmo and Lightningcloud approached, the two guardsmen aimed their rifles in blistering fashion. “State your names and your business!” one yelled.

Lightningcloud’s eyes widened in surprise, for a second he was unable to formulate words in his mouth. “Uhhhh… Brigadier General Lightnigcloud and Colonel Tech of the Royal Equestrian Air Force. We’re here to sit in on the meeting.”

The two guardsmen looked at each other before lowering their rifles and nodding to allow the two past. Lightningcloud moved ahead of Gizmo to get a closer look at the guards as he walked. There was a visible look of confusion on his face, his eyebrows crumpled in concentration. Once they were past the mouth of the stairwell, Gizmo whispered up to him. “You look like you didn’t expect them.”

“Shut up.” He snapped back, brow still furrowed in concentration. “Why the hell did they get Royal Guardsman here?”

Moisture from the ground ran through the cracks in the cobblestones as they descended. The stairs ran slippery with water as tiny droplets fell from the mossy ceiling. Once the two of them reached the bottom, a rusted iron door blocked their way into the War Room. They could hear heated murmurs emanating from the other side. Lightningcloud slowly opened the door and allowed orange candlelight to flood into the darkened stairwell.

The main War Room, while large enough to fit a sizable carriage, was extremely cluttered. A table with a large map of the world took up most of the space in the center of the room. Every single high-ranking pony in the Equestrian Military stood crowded around Griselda, who pointing at various landmarks and terrain features in northern Griffonia. All heads in the room turned towards the creaky opening of the door and stared at Gizmo and Lightningcloud in silence.

A lanky unicorn emerged from the crowd, face absolutely beset with the deep wrinkles of age. His uniform was tightly fit, but his hat was precariously balanced upon his bald, polished head. His gnarled knees wobbled as he hobbled his way towards Lightningcloud. “General Lightningcloud, we’re glad you could come so soon.” The unicorn said shakily. “It seems the situation in Griffonia is more dire than we originally suspected.”

Lightningcloud was visibly confused, scanning all the faces in the room. “General Lancer? What’s going on? The entire general staff is assembled and you’ve got elite guards posted at the doors.” He began to shake a little; it looked like vomit was crawling its way up his throat.

“Hold your horses, General, we’re getting to that.” Lancer replied. He turned towards Gizmo slowly, his body lagging behind his rotating head. “Colonel Tech?” Lancer asked.

Gizmo threw up a hasty salute, “Yes sir?”

“It’s good to finally meet you. We’re transferring you to another post.”

Gizmo looked at the room around him. Everypony was staring at him; expectant looks in their eyes. Griselda looked visibly peeved, with her forehead resting in her claws. She was the only creature in the room seemingly unwilling to make eye contact with Gizmo. He turned back to face Lancer, a bit surprised at the news, he quickly composed himself. “Alright general, where am I going?”

“Griffonia.”