Chapters In the middle of a snowy field stood a zebra in olive drab garb. His head was ducked, his eyes looking to what rested in his open hoof. A stopwatch, simple, rugged and reliable, sat atop the dark patch on his foreleg, the faint dips in his coat hiding the scars he’d earned in some battle or another.
Faded with time, time being the essence of his life.
Past the cracked glass, seconds ticked by as the hands swept across the face of the clock within. His eyes followed the slimmest hand, a stark red, as it dashed around again and again. In his line of work, the very moments matter. In his mind, a countdown was sounding amongst several others. It served as the background melody to an arrangement of calculations that flooded his thoughts. He accounted for everything.
The speed of the air. The distance across the valley before him. The number of creatures under his charge, the direction marked in degrees shown by the glorious flag the fluttered over the encampment. The composition of the vanguard ponies along with the distance they had traveled towards meeting the foe. All of this information was of course vital, but ultimately secondary, to the prime duty of his command.
To his left, and to his right, as far as the eye could see, were lines of mortars, ballista, and mangonels. His mind raced with the technical specifications. The speed of the projectiles, the travel time of their arcs, the average periods for reloading, the amount of ammunition they could allot to this assault, all these details and more.
He sought a singular purpose to all this.
Unification, in more ways than one.
Through coordination, all these disparate factors could be brought together into a whole. One singular span of time, a glorious meeting place. Their goal accomplished in one fell swoop of tactical brilliance. Just a few more details to consider, a hoofful of details to account for, and his orders could begin.
The hands of his stopwatch spun.
His troops had paused as the enemy began to advance.
He waited. It was not yet time.
A harsh wind swept across the camp, kicking up his collar as it strained the ropes that tied their tents to the ground. He watched as the flag, the symbol of the Boreal Grove embroidered upon it, snapped back with the wind. The last piece slotted into place, he clamped the stopwatch closed, the hands now slightly obscured by the branches of the Grove. The enemy’s advance halted as they encountered the vanguard, those mighty earth ponies armored with the very blessings the taiga standing firm against them. They were shielded by the bark and vine granted to them by the taiga they sought to spread. They were shielded not against the foe before them, but from the allies behind. The Grove could never harm their own.
The synthesis was almost upon the battlefield. The zebra turned to his companions and gave them a series of orders, final adjustments to be made. Armaments to be lowered or turned, munitions to be exchanged for new purpose. Then, the sequence could begin. His creatures knew the order. All he had to do was tell them when and the teams would fire on their marks.
He raised a hoof. Moments passed before he brought it down. The air around him was filled with the hollow thumps of mortars being fired. Their arcs were the highest, their load the slowest. They would arrive the same second as the others.
His hoof rose and fell again. About him were the dry snaps of restraint levers being pulled loose before the creak of the wooden arms slinging their burden was let out by the catapults.
Shortly after, he signaled with his hoof for the last time. The air was filled with the violent twangs of the ballista launching their thorned bolts. The mortars and catapults would shake away the packed snow and soften the earth beneath, allowing the arrows to drive deep and cover the battlefield in a blanket of thorns.
All the better for winning this battle and spreading the roots of the taiga. It would see every corner of this tundra under its canopy before his people would rest under its benevolent care. He looked to his pocket watch, hidden beneath the visage of the Grove. He smirked.
What a fitting sight. With time, all would understand what his people already knew.
The Grove cares for all.
Ten seconds had passed. The mortars would soon reach their mark. He turned to hi-“Peps”
His subordinate befor- “Pepperpot.”
She felt somepony shake her. Her eyes blinked away from the table.
She looked beside her to see the store owner pointing to the clock.
“Your train leaves in ten minutes, Cap.” the rocin grumbled before walking away, saying something about her getting caught up in the game under his breath.
“Oh buck,” she exclaimed, slinging her saddlebags onto the table and scooping up an assortment of figures. She glanced across the way and apologized “I’m so sorry, this has been terribly fun and whi-”
The unicorn merely chuckled as an aura lifted the models closer to him towards her case. “Don’t worry about it. Rematch whenever you’re back in town?”
“Of course, of course,” she muttered, hastily grabbing her things, “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”
Her hoof scooped up the last miniature, a solitary figure. It was a simple zebra, an artillery master looking at his weapon of war. An intricate chain affixed it to his front pocket.
She gingerly placed it in the satchel in the space reserved for him alone. She threw it over her back and rushed towards the door. At least until a box on the wall caught her attention and slowed her pace. It was a new release, the symbol of the Grove marked on the upper corner over the picture of a massive trebuchet. Why, it must be able to cover the entire table and she’d be surprised if it had less than six die for-
“I’ll put it on your tab, now get out of here!” the owner yelled from behind the counter.
She rose up on her hind legs and placed a hoof against the wall, looking behind her. “You’re the best.” she chirped before grabbing the box with her mouth and sprinting out of the store.
The door swung absently in her wake, the bell gently chiming.
A lone mare sprinted down the streets of Canterlot on her way to the train station. Her rushed departure was her own fault for deciding to spend the first half of the day in a hobby shop closer to the castle than not, but that was in the past now. She was met with glares from the citizens of the capital and an assortment of nods and half-salutes by the guards she passed. The pegasi smirked and the unicorns scowled but that was fine by her. Not like they knew much about having to hoof it as their mode of locomotion. She had to catch the 2:00 to B-
She stumbled to the ground as she bounced off of somepony’s shoulder. Keeping her momentum, she rolled back onto her hooves and turned back on her path. She called over her shoulder with an apology, “Sorry, in a hurry!”
She took a side street and crossed over to the next avenue for a straighter path to the station. She’d walked the city plenty of times in years past to know it well enough. Better than she knew to keep the time, at least. Or watch her surroundings for ponies she might run into.
Maybe Brush was right, and she was narrow-sighted. She had maybe a habit of bumming around his shop whenever she got transferred. Not her fault his line of work made it too easy to take her mind off work. Nor that everypony always wanted to strike up a match when they saw her walk in. Next time, she’d learn to say no, that she was on a schedule or something.
Of course, the schedule.
Boarding closed five minutes before departure, and she was two minutes behind. With a huff, she quickened her pace. Running down an alley, she finally spotted the station as she came out the opposite end. Nopony stood before the turnstiles and only a few guards waited behind the ticket area. As she approached, she reached back towards her saddlebags until one of the guards motioned towards the train with his pike.
“Head on in.”
With a nod and a smile she hopped over the bars and trotted into the car behind the engine. Finding one of the open booths, she removed her bags and slid into the seat. As she surveyed the cabin, she noticed that many of the booths were open.
Actually, all of the booths were open.
It may have been a year or so since her last train ride, but normally from one large city to another there would be more passengers. She tapped an attendant on the withers as they passed and asked “What time is it?”
They looked at her and answered by pulling a pocket watch out of their jacket.
It read 1:30.
Back in his store, Airbrush chuckled as he pulled the clock from the wall and turned back the time.
Pepper sat alone in her booth as she waited for the train to depart. Other ponies had slowly trickled into the car as time passed, filling the room around her. Idle chatter filled the air as she stared at the contents of her bag.
She'd tried painting on trains before. It hadn't gone well; all the bumps and turns made her smear all over the models. Basing and assembly worked well enough, but wasn't quite as nice as when she waited to do it on solid ground. It was good enough for grunt models but not the centerpieces she liked to put more effort into.
Looking at the scale of the trebuchet on the cover of the box, she knew that this would be a centerpiece.
With a sigh, she pushed the box to the side and reached deeper into the bag to retrieve the folder given to her by her work associates. It held technical details, meant to inform her of her destination before arrival. As she flipped it open and took one look at the contents, she was reminded why she spent the first half of the day in the game store. The drivel inside bored her to no end.
She placed the folder back inside the bag and pulled out the box. It wouldn't hurt to read through the directions and mull over the unit's stats on the ride, after all.
As the train lurched forward, Pepperpot's hooves scrambled to collect the various pieces of magicast scattered about her surface of the table. Shoveling them back into the box they came from, she ducked under the table to check the floor for any that may have fallen.
As she scanned the ground, her eyes noticed a pair of black and white striped legs standing in the aisle.
"Why hello there, miss hurry mare." a voice rhymed from above.
Bolting up, she smacked the back of her head on the table's edge. Though her braid blunted the impact she still rubbed the spot with a hoof and winced as she addressed the pony "I'm sorry, what'd you say?"
She blinked as she realized she was talking to a zebra.
"So strange that we should meet again so soon," the stallion said, tilting his head towards the other side of the table, "would it alright to ask if I may join you?" Pepperpots glanced around the cabin. Seeing no empty booths she nodded and the zebra sat down.
After he got comfortable and placed his forehooves on the table, she asked "Again?"
"You don't remember? You bumped into me on the way here."
She gasped and stammered out "I'm so sorry, I had the time wrong and thoug-"
"It's fine," he chuckled and waved one of his patterned hooves, "It got me a seat with someone I know so I should be thanking you."
"I'm relieved," she sighed, "I suppose a welcome is in order?"
"That won't be necessary. Do you play?"
"Pardon?" she asked before she noticed him pointing at the box on the table. As the car hit a bump, she closed the lid and swept it under the straps to her bag. "Oh, a fair bit, yes." Her cheeks reddened as she mentally checked the number of bits she'd put into the models, let alone the total for what she had shipped ahead to her new address.
"A fair Vale player, now that's a sight from what I've heard." He reached into his coat and pulled out a magazine. A brief glance showed her that it bore the title of the monthly publication for the hobby. She had stacks of them in her closet at home.
"What about yourself?" she asked as she tidied up her space.
He shrugged. "Yet to be seen. I checked it out at a new store just before I left for Canterlot. It seems pretty cool, if I can find the creatures to play with." A sly smile crossed his face as he looked to her. "I imagine that won't be a problem, will it?"
"Ha!" she grinned, "I promise I'll go easy on you." Reading more of the cover, she noticed that he was holding the introductory guide to the game. "What seems to suit your fancy?"
Placing the magazine on the table, he leaned forward as he crossed his hooves. "Can't quite tell until you play, can you?"
"To a degree, yes," she stated, "but you can probably guess from their playstyles." She reached across the table and placed a hoof over a picture of a hive queen. "Like the changelings; They can use a lot of models from any army, but to play them well takes a lot of familiarity in how those units interact."
"So a lot of reading." he surmised.
"Yeah, their players are pretty nerdy."
He raised an eyebrow, "And the other players aren't nerdy too?"
"No, they're just not as nerdy."
A few moments passed before they both let out a laugh.
She flipped a few pages and pointed to a list of groups. "So, got any questions?"
"Several," he answered.
Pepperpot smiled. Maybe this trip wouldn't be as long as she had feared.
The zebra rolled up the magazine and slid it into his jacket after a lengthy discussion on painted magicast. As he did so, Pepper realized just how long she'd been talking about the Grove. The other factions had merely gotten an overveiw and brief summary of their playstyle, but she was reaching the end of an impromptu history lesson.
She'd also mindlessly opened her saddlebags and pulled out the transport case she had carried from the store. Her cheeks warmed as it dawned on her that she was deep in the process of geeking out.
Always the charmer, she was.
"Oh cool, this is what they turn out like!"
A weight was lifted off her chest as he leaned forward and stared at the figures. "May I?" he pleaded, laying a hoof on the edge of the container.
"Of course! Just don't break them."
He lifted one up and examined it. It was one of a set of three earth pony models covered hoof to muzzle in thick bark-colored armor. "What do they do?" he asked without taking his eyes off of it.
She cleared her throat and answered. "They're the bodyguards for the leaders. I, um, use them as my frontline assault."
He raised an eyebrow. "That's not how bodyguards work."
"Best defense is a good offense?" she stated, giving a sheepish look.
It seemed like he was going to answer, but then suddenly put the model down and reached towards the box once more. "Who's this little guy?"
She watched as he pulled out the commander for inspection. It took her a moment to remember how she'd painted it. "I was trying to paint spots but gave up and just did stripes..." His eyes looked past the model and rested on her. The change in his expression almost made her feel as if he was noticing something for the first time. She looked away, opting to stare out the window.
At that very second, the train went through a tunnel and the window turned into a mirror that reflected her image. Ice blue eyes met her own as she saw an onyx mare sitting there, their coat covered in irregular patches of white fur.
"Well, I think it came out looking awesome."
"That's kind of you" She kept looking as the mirror gave way to the sight of a wooded area. Pepperpots heard him put the models back in the case and closed the lid. Silence passed the time until she broke it with a question. "So what brought you to Canterlot?"
"I got some time off of work, yourself?"
"I got some work off of time." she scoffed.
"So this is a vacation then?"
With a groan, her eyes left the window and found their way to her hooves as she buried her face in them. "No," she mumbled, "Just more work. I'm needed for a-" she thought over the details of her transfer and the folder in her bags "consultation."
"Ah," his posture shifted, "Well, will you be in Baltimare long?"
"Several months, I guess." She punctuated her words with a shrug. "Just depends on how long it takes them to remember I'm out here."
"You sound, enthused?" His tone hung in the air, not quite sarcasm, not quite concern.
Shifting the focus, she asked "How about yourself? Business or pleasure?"
It wasn't quite a smile, but at least the frown left as he spoke. "You know what they say, it's not work if you enjoy it."
"Heh, you can say that again." His face winced as if connecting the phrase to her previous comments.
"Sorry."
"Don't be, the pay's at least good. And I do have leisure time." Her eyes glanced to the table.
The train slowed to a stop. An announcement sounded over a speaker. "Ladies and gentlecolts, we've arrived at the Le Roc Station in Baltimare. Thank you for joini-"
As the conductor droned on, her zebra companion stood and adjusted his coat. "Well, I suppose we'll be off then." He stated, turning to leave.
"Hey," she called, placing a hoof on the table as she organized her belongings, "didn't you say something about a new store in town?"
"I did, yes."
Her eyes looked to the folder, tucked away under her most recent purchase. In it was the address to her new apartment and the itinerary of her first few days. She'd made a point of skimming that much before discarding any further notions of reading. "I'm not really scheduled for anything until this evening. Would you care to show me where it is?"
With a bow, he swung a hoof towards the door. "It'd be my pleasure." He raised his head to meet her gaze and asked, "Miss?"
"Pepperpots, and I'd be delighted to join you."
Through the sea of passengers disembarking, the pair made their way onto the streets of Baltimare.
A harsh wind whipped across the battlefield. It swept through barracks and barricades alike, across the backs of equines and over the blinding white dunes that separated them from their foe.
The separation dwindled as ochre mounds phased in and out of view from the command tent, gradually shrinking as they lumbered forth to meet the enemy.
There were still several minutes until the engagement began, still vectors to consider and account for. The zebra closed his eyes-
"Is that all of your unit then?"
"Yeah, he'll stay back in deployment."
-and felt the chill of the air rush over his face. He didn't have to look at the flag outside to tell what direction it would be facing.
"Zeal, our orders?"
"Prepare to fire."
At that moment, the dampened sound of arcane discordance erupted from across the battlefield. The unicorns, intruders upon the Taiga's path, must have detected the vanguard's presence.
A cascade of color poked through the haze as if a prism hung in the air. It poured over the open field, swallowing the earth ponies shrouded by the rolling drifts. Zeal had seen the damage a single spell could unleash, let alone so many in tande-
"They've got 2+ armor saves and you're hitting at -1 from the storm, Zaida."
"Oh, sorry."
A cascade of color poked through the haze as if a prism hung in the air. It was scattered across the field, and from the plumes of solid white filling the air, Zeal could tell that none were making solid contact with anything but snow. He smirked, thinking that it would hardly matter if they did. He knew just how resilient their armor was, and the strength of the ponies that bore it. It would take more than a few parlor tricks to hamper their assault.
Zeal stood and departed the command tent. A glance as he retrieved his pocket watch told him when to raise his hoof. A count of his heart's beats told him when to lower it.
The sequential retort of his subordinates' armaments that filled the air told him that this battle was already won.
"So, what did you think?" Pepperpot asked, returning the store's figures to their default arrangement for demo games.
Her opponent answered from across the table, "That was pretty fun, even if it ended rather quickly. Didn't you say you were going to go easy on me?"
"Well, it wasn't really your army."
"Hm, if you wish to play it that way then how about I start one?"
She smiled. "What suits your fancy?"
And so, half an hour later, they stood before the counter with a box and bundle of paints. Zaida had told her that he'd come back on his own time for the rest, but that this would be a good way to "kick things off."
She turned the package over in her hooves and inspected the frail frame of the deer depicted in the art. It was a command unit from the Grove, but a fairly obscure one for smaller armies. And he'd seemed to skip over all the other units she pointed out to him in their section...
"That'll be 38 bits, miss." The store owner barked, laying his claw on the counter palm up. Pepperpot reached into her bags and retrieved her purse. After a thump as the weight of the gold struck the counter, her ears were met with the owner's voice again, "Ah then, 32 bits."
She turned her coin purse on its side and counted out the figure the griffon had told her. "32?" She asked, ignoring the sound of the bag's insigne as it tapped against the counter.
"The boys lakeside told me 'bout you," he answered, accepting her coin, "wanted to make sure ye got your discount."
"How kind of them." She drew the strings to the purse and returned it to her bag. "Y'all just want to keep me coming back." she remarked, hoofing the package over to Zaida.
The griffon merely scooped the bits into the register and threw his claws into the air with a shrug and some sort of pained grimace. She'd worked with the creatures long enough to read it as a smile.
"What's your name?" She asked.
"Garnet."
"Pleasure to meet you Garnet. I like the Grove."
"I'll see what's on the slate for 'em."
"Good rok," she mused, turning to Zaida, "Shall we be off?"
He held the package to his chest and said "After you."
She'd explained some tips and tricks to him for assembling the models, little quality of life practices to keep from being frustrated. He'd smiled and nodded along with the conversation, only pausing to ask a question every once and a while.
It wasn't until some time later that she realized they'd both been trotting in the same direction. "Where are you headed?"
"I, uh, actually live up this way."
Pepperpot thought over what she knew of the city. It'd been a couple of years since she was last in the area. There hadn't been much of a residential presence in this district but it was nice to know they were expanding that, apparently. "Say, would you know if there is anywhere to eat near here?"
"There are a couple of nice places, yeah."
"Could you show me?"
"I can't."
"Oh." She could see the hotel named in her papers up ahead. She squinted her eyes as the waning light glared off a window. She couldn't tell if the frown was from that or his response.
"I've to get back and get ready for work," he explained, "besides, I think I can get this guy put together before then." He took a few steps, then stopped to face her as she stood on the street in front of her hotel.
"It's been fun," she replied, "but I should probably finish moving in."
"Goodnight, Pepperpot."
She gave a weak smile in return. "Goodnight Zaida." She walked towards the door, halfway there she heard him.
"I had fun tonight, see you around?"
"I did too." She opened the door and went inside. Her thoughts turned to the forms tucked away in her saddle.
Back to the grindstone.
The room was small and plain. Always the frugal masters, her work had spared many expenses in arranging her stay.
She, unlike several of her peers, didn't mind that fact too much. This hotel chain usually served waffles in the lobby every morning, so there was that to look forward to.
Her saddlebags were discarded, carefully, just inside the door. She walked past the pony-sized crate at the foot of the bed and entered the bathroom.
A bundle of commodities rested in the sink, probably delivered along with the crate, just as she'd requested. In a minute, she had taken out her braid and combed her mane to the side. There wasn't any point putting the gel in just yet, so she returned to her bags to grab the folder.
Just as she suspected, it was the same as always. Problems with inventory management, shift scheduling, safety violations, she sighed as she sat cross-legged on the bed. Her reading ceased before the personel files. Why did they even include these? The handbook didn't even let her talk to half of their positions back home.
Pepperpot closed the folder and slid off the bed to face the crate. Her speech was coming up, just before sunset as per her orders.
The courtyard faced west, so it was either looking at the princess' sun for an hour, standing in it at high noon wearing an oven, or waking up in the morning and she knew that was impossible. So dusk it was.
Besides, it was the best time to set in her authority. She instinctively grinned as she unclasped the lid to the crate and flung it open.
Before her rested the purple trimmed armor of an EUP officer.
