A professor and his students

by Fireheart 1945

Chapters

Canterlot
Memories
Reunion

Canterlot

The city had seen better days.

As Lieutenant Jacques Dubois looked on, he marveled more and more that the city hadn't fallen from it's perch onto the plain. Surely, it had been held up by magic throughout its entire history, or it wouldn't have gotten as large as it was.

What it was now...

Smoke arose from the outskirts of the city as the 19th Maine National Guard marched through the city streets, along with the rest of the victory procession. Twilight Sparkle had surrendered, after weeks of Canterlot being under siege.

It hadn't come soon enough.

It was amazing how Canterlot had managed to survive almost a month. Overcrowded, constantly bombarded and low of food, the population had been willing to fight to the end.

The eyes of many ponies revealed that all too well.

Professor - no, Lieutenant - Dubois could see what they were feeling. The hate and rage that many ponies were giving would have likely melted the city if looks could kill. It was fortunate that physics didn't work that way.

Not all were hateful. Some looked at the conquerors with the same kind of stares that soldiers got when they'd been in combat too long; empty and looking through, rather than at, the victors. Some were merely cautious, especially parents who were there with foals.

The lieutenant looked at a row of Equestrian soldiers who had laid down their arms. None of them were in a mood to give their former opponents any gratitude or compassion; clearly, if anyone - any pony - told them to, they'd try to savage the human soldiers and their Resistance comrades as they marched through the streets.

The pride of the victors was evident upon their faces. And why not? Some of them had been fighting through five years of horror. Naturally, some felt they had earned the right to stride like arrogant peacocks.

The lieutenant didn't like that pride, but there was little he could do about it, and, to be honest, the men had fought hard for this victory... along with those ponies who had joined the Resistance.

Many of the latter had seen days just as dark as any human soldier. Worse, even, as the ESS hunted down those in Equestria and their own families, for lack of a stronger term, disowned them. Some of those families had even tried to kill their own brothers, sisters, fathers, mothers, sons, daughters, and grandparents for siding with the human nations, regardless of their reasons for defecting.

Many of the Resistance hadn't done more than simple acts of espionage. Some had leaked information to the Allies. Others had infiltrated various projects, including the Conversion Program, and tried to sabotage them. Some had helped other dissidents to escape the authorities, and taken the risks that that had entailed. Many of those ordinary heroes had died, or been caught doing it. What had happened to them, the former professor didn't know.

Most of the Resistance ponies marching in the column had been in combat units. There weren't many of them compared to their human comrades, but they had shared the burdens of war; they'd been in trenches, fought against their own people, held dying friends in their forelegs, and many had been wounded. Though some human soldiers still detested them because of what the majority of their species had done - or more to the point, who and what they had sided with - they had proven their loyalty to the cause, just as any human soldier.

Many of the latter were singing in their native languages. Americans, Russians, Chinese, Frenchmen, Britons, and many, many more were all competing as to who could sing their national songs the loudest. Many of the Mainers in his unit were singing "The Army goes Rolling Along" and "The Star-Spangled Banner;" one, Corporal Davis, was singing the "Sixteen Counties in our State" song that they'd learned in school as kids.

Davis had always been the platoon clown, Jacques thought, smiling at a few happy memories.

Not far from Davis, a pony who had taken up citizenship in America, Bright Spirit, whistled an Equestrian song that had been popularized by some pony called Countess Coloratura. Or at least, that had been her stage name; Spirit, as everyone called him, said she had changed it to something more basic. Either way, that particular song had shown a love for his old homeland. From what Jacques could tell, he had always loved Equestria, even when he'd sided with his adopted country over it. He wasn't singing the words aloud; too much love for Equestria could easily be seen as siding with the enemy, even now. But a good whistle was still appreciated.

"Human scum!"

Jacques turned to see one of the ex-Guards snarling at the column.

"Get out of our country, you subpony beasts!"

Several of his men growled; three broke formation, their bayonetted M-22 rifles fixed.

"Get your backsides back in line!" the lieutenant yelled, dropping his private thoughts for the moment.

"What, too cowardly to face us? If that witch Twilight Sparkle hadn't surrendered, you'd all be dead like the vermin you are!" a civilian pony jeered.

More of his men began to break formation, clearly out to teach hecklers a lesson.

Jacques fingered his pistol. "Any of you who kills a non-combatant will be in front of a firing squad before the day is out!" he screamed.

His men turned to regard him.

"For the last time, get back in the blasted line. They aren't hurling bullets any more. We've won, and they know it. Let them shout; it's all they can do to us now."

The men grumbled and growled, but obeyed, eyeing their hecklers with hate of their own. Jacques sighed.

"Worthless, proud monkey scumbags!"

"Furless apes!"

"Death to traitors!"

"Filth! Siding with hairless gorillas instead of your own people!"

"Down with humanity!"

"Death to the butchers of the Crystal Empire!"

Despite the continued shouts and insults, his men didn't break formation anymore, though their singing mood had soured quite badly, and many glared at the watching crowds with at least as much hate and anger as the ponies were manifesting toward them.

Haven't we seen enough death? he thought, sighing.

"Vengeance for Ponyville!"

Jacques turned, but it was only an unarmed earth pony mare. She glared with even more hate than most of the ponies in the crowd.

"Death to the murderers of my sister! Of my TOWN!"

"Giraud, if that rifle isn't back on your shoulder in minus 1 second, you're in massive trouble!" Jacques bellowed as one of his men took his M-22 and began to point it at the mare.

"Kiss it, lieu-"

Jacques ran forward and punched him in the face; Giraud fell to the ground, surprised by the blow. "Rifle, shoulder, now," the lieutenant commanded in a no-nonsense voice. "Or you clean latrines with a toothbrush for five months straight. She doesn't have a gun, and the Thalmann Generators have neutralized all their magic. All she can do (safely do, he thought with discomfort) is hate and yell. You kill her, I'll personally make sure it's a court martial and a firing squad for you. As it is, you're doing KP for the night, and you'll do it all week if I hear so much as one complaint out of you."

Giraud, still furious but - reluctantly - obedient, set his rifle back on his shoulder and continued marching, only pausing to spit at the watch crowd and utter not-so-quiet incendiary language towards those ponies who jeered.

He wasn't the only one. Some of the humans continued to march without breaking stride, despite the foul words hurled their way. But many, now that some of the defeated had the courage to insult them, hurled foul language back, and obviously not all of them were Americans.

Fortunately, the column continued to march without incident. A few ponies threw rocks, but they were arrested without any gunshots being fired. The message was clear to the defeated ponies; You've lost, and if you try any real trouble, you'll regret it.

Praise be to God that we've shown such restraint! Jacques prayed, looking skyward for a moment, his hand going to the little wooden cross that was within a chest pocket in his fatigues. Were it not for True Divine intervention, any ponies who jeered at us would get shot... and that's if nothing worse happened to them!

It really was a miracle that the men showed the restraint they did; many had lost family members, either killed by enemy action, lost to the infernal conversion potion, or fallen to famine and disease that loved to accompany war. That didn't even take into account the loss of brothers in arms in combat.

Thank God it's over. It's really, truly over. The realization, and the relief that accompanied it, finally came through. Somehow, he hadn't fully realized it until now. Five years of death and humans being turned into human-hating automatons were well and truly over. Now...

Now several squadrons of jet fighters, each from different countries, flew overhead, their engines screaming; an American squadron flew in formation to spell out "USA," and squadrons from other countries made similar formations for their countries. Tanks, APCs, and rocket artillery were rolling in the streets along with the infantry. It reminded the former professor of the Allied celebrations when World War II had ended.

I guess technically, this counts as World War III. It was a global war, after all. And we've beaten the biggest threat humanity has faced to its existence so far.

He frowned, remembering the cost. Three billion, gone; dead, or Newfoals. Almost half the human population was simply gone. Entire nations were out for the count, their citizens either dead, refugees, turned into organic robots, or liquidized by the barrier. Australia and New Zealand, and most of Oceania, would take a very long time to recover, not least since the barrier had destroyed so much high-level technology that might have remained... and also the ponies had scorched the earth, sometimes very literally, in order to deny the humans anything that remained. houses and towns were gone, as if they'd never existed.

That's not even counting Rome... and Mecca. And so many landmarks...

He felt a familiar kick in the gut as he tried to push the thought of Republican and Imperial Rome out of his head. The loss of so much history - so much of what had made the West great, in a purely materialist sense - reduced to blue glass, along with all who lived in them.

Millions of ponies - including some 4 million from the Crystal Empire - were also gone. The thought of the latter made Jacque flinch. Somehow, the better armed nations, including the US, China, and Russia had withheld the nuclear option, despite the murder of the latter's president. Some Middle-Eastern country - probably Iran, he thought - hadn't bothered with restraint after the Battle of Jerusalem.

The parade finally came to a halt in front of Canterlot Palace. A large float in front of the armies halted; top brass from several countries climbed the steps onto the float, which essentially was a platform for what was to come next.

Field Marshall John Bingham* III stepped up to the central microphone. Although the United States had been selected to lead the charge into Equestria, and General Robert Darcy had been the overall commander, it was Bingham, from Great Britain, who had been the field commander for the invasion. He was actually a rather stereotypical British general, from what Jacques had heard. After Manehatten had fallen, Bingham had nearly been killed by an artillery shell fired from those Equestrian guns still operational; his only response to nearly dying, according to the men on the scene, had been to say, "Nasty thing," of the shell. Call him what one will, he was no coward.

"Soldiers of the Grand Alliance," the Field Marshall began, "we have now reached the end of five years of torment. Countless lives have been lost. Our nations reel in economic disarray. Our many peoples have been gutted, by shot and potion alike. And we ourselves will bear the deeper scars within our very minds for the rest of our days."

That's true, if nothing else is, Jacques thought. Needless to say, PTSD was going to be a thing for a very long time. Doctors wouldn't be running out of patients anytime soon, barring Judgment Day.

"But we have come through the fire and out the other side," the Field Marshall continued. "Humanity lives. Our children, our wives, brothers, mothers, and their children, are now safe from the nightmare that has plagued our world for so long. Our world can now begin to rebuild. Our nations, our institutions, our culture, our religion, our legacy, lives. Even as I speak, work had begun on repairing cities ruined by the war, Rome and Mecca not least among them. We shall rebuild those landmarks - the Statue of Liberty, the Great Wall, the Forbidden Palace, the -" Here the Marshall's voice broke for a moment, and tears came to his eyes - "the Houses of Parliament and Big Ben, the Coliseum of Rome, the Sydney Opera House, Saint Basil's Cathedral, all shall be rebuilt to their former glory."

"It is to you men, the men on the ground, to whom we owe our victory, and our chance to revive our world. Without your efforts, our many peoples, and the very memory of them, would have been washed away; we would be dead, or worse, reduced to organic slaves to equine masters, incapable of any thought contrary to what they would have us think. Thanks to God Almighty, and to the boots on the ground, that eventuality has been utterly vanquished."

"I have seen common soldiers do uncommon things, worthy of remembrance the world over. I have seen men weep over comrades lost, seen the graves that lined our advance, watched as men passed away in field hospitals. I have seen men - and ponies of the Resistance - sacrifice their lives so their fellows could live."

"Many of you have seen much more, and much worse; some of you were in cities when they were destroyed by our enemy. Many of you have seen the cruelty they've inflicted firsthand. All too many of you have had to watch as a child or a parent was consumed by our enemy's infernal invention, sometimes a relative or even your son or daughter, had to watch with tears as they despised you for simply being born human."

"I know that it is naïve to expect men who have seen so much to forgive so soon. It is naïve to think that the world would forgive so soon. But as we stand here, in the ruins of what was our foes' capital, we must look to the future; a future where hatred engendered by our so often hypocritical enemies, a future we have the chance to live again without fear of the confounded potion, a future where Man must put aside his hate and thoughts of revenge and prove that he is, while no less mortal than our adversaries, no more a monster than they are."

"Gentlemen, I have been honored to have commanded you in battle. You are worthy of the accolades of generations past, worthy of the men who gave their lives to stop Nazi tyranny and Communist dictatorships, worthy of the men of D-Day and so many more. It is not without great feeling, not without great regret, that we must ultimately depart. It has been too long for most of you, I know. Most of you will doubtless return to the normalcy, such as it can be, of civilian life. I wish you great success in all good things you do. As a more worthy man than I once said upon dismissing his army, if you prove to be as good citizens as you were soldiers, I shall always be proud of you."

"With that, may God bless you all, and may you all live lives of peace."

As the Field Marshall's speech ended, seven armored soldiers, armed with plasma rifles, stepped forward; raising their weapons to the sky, they fired three times each. The Dyow! sound of the plasma rifle wasn't the same, in Jacques opinion, as the roar of the traditional rifle for a salute. But there was no denying the spectacle, nor how far human arms had developed in just five years.

The Field Marshall's speech was now being translated so that the men of non-Anglophone countries could understand. As planned beforehand, English-speaking units began to disperse. Some would go back to base; others, like the 19th, were going to occupy the city.

The 19th's colonel, John Wiśniewski, began shouting orders; "Men, we've been assigned to the Old Town District. We'll set up our quarters within any non-residential buildings we can find. I expect you to behave like soldiers and not like drunken morons. We're dealing with a hostile population, so I expect you all to be prepared."

"Why did we get assigned to occupation duty?" one of the men near Jacques grumbled.

You'd think, after the action we've seen, the 19th would be treated like proper soldiers instead of just militia! Jacques pushed that thought down as fast as he could. He could understand the men's irritation of being treated as mere occupation troops while the army divisions, including units with magical shields, armor and plasma rifles, got to leave and go on much more pleasant duties. But nonetheless, that was the role they'd been assigned. And the National Guard, regardless of their state, did have regs and standards to live up to.

"I also expect civilized behavior. We're not the thugs the ponies have made us out to be these past fifteen years, and I expect you all to act on you best behavior, even while on your guard. Any misbehavior - including rape and looting - will get back to me, and any man responsible for it will answer to me personally!"

That was no idle threat. Jacques had seen Wiśniewski court martial and execute a man who had killed a surrendering Royal Guard; the man's claim that the enemy soldier had "fought to the death" had been easily debunked.

"Alright; Captain Elson, take your men up Noble Street. Captain Fox, you'll..."

Jacques took the time to look around at the wreckage. Although Canterlot had been shielded for most of the siege, some ordinance had made it in; numerous buildings were reduced to wrecks, and others, though still standing, were damaged, some badly so.

Of course, it had been worse in Ponyville, which the 19th had marched through on it's way to Canterlot. The entire town had been flattened; nothing else came close to describing it. The bombers that had leveled the town and castle there had spared almost no brick or piece of wood in that town. Jacques allowed himself a moment's sympathy for the mare who had cried for vengeance earlier, before he remembered walking through Rome, devastated at the destruction of not just the Vatican, but the entire city. An entire history, an entire city gone with it's people, just echoes on the wind, a single cross from Saint Peter's Basilica all that remained... other than a sea of blue glass.

The Papacy had been reformed in Geneva, Switzerland, after those cardinals who had been out of Rome when the latter was destroyed had reconvened there and elected a new Pope. The Papacy would likely remain there until Rome was rebuilt.

Can we rebuild it? he thought. The work of the Roman Republic, the Empire, the works of Michelangelo and Leonardo da Vinci... can we rebuild or restore them at all? And who would want to live on one of the largest grave sites in history!?

He sighed once more. The world... had changed. He still felt bad for the mare, but still...

"Captain Reynolds, take your men up to 17th Street."

Jacques snapped out of it. That was his company commander being called out. That meant that 5th Company was going to 17th Street, wherever that was.

"Follow me, men," Reynolds shouted, so all could hear. "We'll find a place to set up shop; bound to be someplace that doesn't have anybody living there."

He's all too likely to be right, Jacques thought, the ever-present smell of death clogging his nose.

17th Street turned out to be on the edge of Canterlot. While the center of the city had mostly escaped damage, the edges weren't so fortunate. Ruined houses and businesses were much more common along the periphery.

There wasn't total desolation, though. A small café was still standing, labelled Pony Joe's Bar and Donuts, though some of the walls were damaged and the windows were all busted.

"Alright, second platoon," Jacques said, turning to face his men, "we'll be occupying this area of the city. First platoon will takeover at nightfall. Until then, we're here to keep the peace in this city."

"Kill them all, and we wouldn't have to keep the peace," one of his men muttered to another.

"I heard that," Jacques said sharply. "Wayon**, Jansen, the war's over."

"Wouldn't be an occupation if some of them ponies weren't expected to cause us trouble."

That's true, Jacques thought to himself. "Still, we're not here to take advantage of them. Stay out of trouble, or else there will be trouble."

"And what if they attack us, loot?"

"Then you can engage. But only then. And if I find you used any loopholes in that as an excuse for murder, I'll have you dishonorably discharged - in public, before us and the ponies - before you get sent to the firing squad. We've seen enough death in battle alone, we don't need to kill any more unless we absolutely 100% have to. Sergeant Collins, take your squad and patrol the next block over."

He continued to instruct the squads on their patrol and occupation routes until all of them were set. As the final squad set out, Jacques breathed a sigh of relief.

At least that's over an done with... I hope. As he looked around, happier memories from his days a a professor came... before the war, before the human-pony divide had become so terrible that they couldn't be reconciled.

Eight years ago, 2042, three years before the war

"So, we have the breakdown of Roman societal norms. The overreliance on slave labor meant that technologies that could have improved the state received no investment, because people usually prefer the cheapest solution to a problem and slaves were technically free labor for their owners. In addition, plantations were growing cash crops instead of the grain needed to feed the nation; without enormous imports of food, there would be famine. There was inflation, as the coinage was debased; silver and gold merely plated over less-precious metals, leading to prices going up. And, of course, the 'barbarian' invasions. This was the time of wandering tribes from the north, and as we've seen, the Foederati system designed to defend Roman border zones could - and would be - turned against it."

Jacque lowered the ruler he'd been using to highlight the points on the board, which was illuminated by a powerpoint on his computer that had been connected into a projector. "Yes?" he asked, pointing to a pony student who had raised her hoof.

"Why didn't the Romans just... I don't know, try to make friends with the other powers and try friendship instead of everything they actually did?"

This kind of question, he mused, keeping his emotions in check. "First off, the ancient nations were generally warlike states, with Rome being one that rather expected war in its earlier stages. To ally with a power equal to you was generally out of the question, partly because your own people would not like it and partly because the other side would never agree to it. The only power Rome had nearby that was anywhere near as powerful - as a state rather than nomadic tribes - was the Sassanid Empire, who were enemies of the Romans. I should also point out that there were no conventions or major international institutions in place at the time; in fact, the Hague and Geneva Conventions are less than two hundred years old as of now.

"Second, they did, in a sense, with the Foederati contact system. Tribes would be allowed into Roman lands in the late Imperial period, but in exchange, they had to defend the border areas. The problem was, letting militarized peoples enter your borders wasn't the best idea for defending the border areas of the empire; these tribes had their own agendas, naturally. And the Romans maintained a negative opinion of them... much as ponies used to other tribes in their own world.

"Third, in the 200s AD, the Roman Empire went through what we call today the Third Century Crisis. This wasn't just one issue; it was a cascading series of events that badly weakened the Empire, and the issues were never fully solved. There was persecution of Christians, there were 'barbarian' invasions, there were Sassanid wars, there were assassinations of emperors and civil wars; it was just a mess. Even though Emperor Diocletian managed to stabilize the Empire for a time, in a material sense at least, he at best put a bunch of band-aids that ultimately didn't manage to stick, if you want my viewpoint on that. Imperial leaders, always looking over their shoulders for potential assassins, having to deal with the military and financial issues, and trying to maintain their power, weren't likely to look for the most 'friendly' of ways to resolve a crisis."

"Seems kind of dumb to leave your defense to a bunch of foreign tribes."

"One thing the Romans have been heavily scrutinized for doing, and is a topic of debate for historians even today. Of course, the whole point of the Foederati system was that Rome didn't have enough soldiers to patrol and hold every inch of borderland, so..."

Another pony in the class raised his hoof.

"Yes?"

"Why did they allow slavery? Why wasn't it just done away with?"

"Why did anyone allow slavery?" Jacques sighed. "It provided a source of income, it was cheap and free - at least to the slaveowners, other than having to provide food, shelter, clothing, and drink - and when you took prisoners of war, there were only three options. You could kill them, which gained you nothing and was objected to by many even in that time; you could release them, but then they could go back into their nation's military and be part of another war against you; or you could enslave them and get some use out of them instead of slaughtering them or letting them go to be a continued danger to you. Additionally, some people who were extremely poor and homeless willingly gave up their freedom to become slaves so they could ensure themselves and their families the basic needs to continue living. To such people, freedom from slavery would have meant an uncertain future in an insecure world."

"How could people be so evil?"

Jacques wiped his glasses before replying. "I'm not saying that slavery is, or was, necessarily a good thing. And I think that history shows a gradual movement away from slavery. Even at the time of the Romans, not everyone liked slavery. Some owners freed their slaves, sometimes in their wills, sometimes within their lifetimes. Bartolome de las Casas was a Catholic friar who, although he initially owned slaves in the form of an encomienda, ultimately freed them and spent the rest of his life denouncing the system, even going so far as to deny confession, forgiveness, and last rites to those who owned encomiendas and slaves. In the US during the 1800's, many abolitionist Christians pointed to the Bible to oppose slavery and to counter those who used the Bible as a means to keep slavery; for instance, if you've been ordered to love your neighbor and not oppress strangers, why are you doing just that by treating them differently from other people, that is, by keeping them in bondage? We also have secular as well as religious statements from the time of slavery in the US from slaves and ex-slaves who roundly condemned the system from within, such as Harriet Jacobs' Incidents in the Life of a Slave Girl. And slavery is generally hated today. In other words, while slavery is, and was, an awful system, human beings have been moving toward destroying it.

"And that could be said about some of the other evils humans have been known for. For instance, energy is becoming cleaner as scientists come up with new energy sources and ways to upgrade existing ones. The crystal plants, fueled by crystals generously lent to us by Equestria, have cut down on carbon emissions immensely. Loggers routinely plant seeds to replace every tree they cut down. We won't have a perfect world this side of Heaven, but we can move closer to perfect; as the US Constitution says, the Founding Fathers were trying to establish 'a more perfect union,' not one that was perfect, that being beyond the scope of created individuals, human or pony, to build."

He clucked his tongue. "I know I've gone off on a bit of a tangent here, but the point is, while societies used to allow slavery en-masse, there has been a gradual, general movement away from it. And that pattern can be seen in many areas today, sometimes to a fault. That's not to say that all movement regarding social norms has been good; I believe that society has become far too openly sensual and sexual in the past several decades, and that a lot of people do things according to emotions or feelings instead of looking to what actually works and applying that to the problems at hand, just to name a couple of things I believe are going downhill. But I do think that demonizing human society without taking a good look at one's own beliefs, behavior, and ideology is unjust and unfair, ladies and gentlemen."

He looked at the clock; he'd accidentally run two minutes overtime. "Okay, we're a bit overtime. Sorry about that. I expect your papers on the Third Century Crisis to be done by Monday; I'll have to take off ten points for every day they're late."

The class began to leave. Humans and ponies were talking as they did, but Jacques felt disheartened to see only a couple humans talking to a couple ponies. He suppressed a sigh and began to gather up his things and put them in a bookbag.

He watched the last students leave, then began moving to the door himself, only to stop upon seeing a certain yellow earth pony mare with a brown mane.

"Good afternoon, Miss Candy Corn."

"Mr. Dubois," she said, though without much respect in her voice.

"What is it you want to talk about? I have another class to go to be at in seven minutes.

"We can talk as we go. But we must talk, and now."

"Don't I get a say in that, this being my own country and state?"

She frowned at him. "I'm afraid I must insist. It's important."

"I suppose it must be." He walked out of the room, and she walked next to him, hooves clip-clopping against the floor.

"I must report the bad behavior of some your students within my classroom," Candy Corn said. "They've been disrupting my classes and the flow of my teaching."

"How do you know they're from my class, and what exactly do you have to accuse them of?"

"They point to your view on history, naming you personally in their objections, along with the views of other professors and students on this campus. They've also been questioning things about Equestrian society that ought not be questioned. They continually ask disturbing questions about how our people do things."

"I'm afraid I don't get what's wrong with that. Students question me all the time, they question other professors here and schoolteachers elsewhere; the whole point of being a student is to learn."

"But not at the expense of the teacher."

"What questions have they been asking, exactly? I doubt it's anything... physically disgusting."

"No-o-o-o," Candy Corn ground out. "But they continually ask me things like, 'Why do all ponies have to believe in friendship?' and 'what proof do you have that the Princesses are gods?' and say things like, 'that sounds cult-like,' when I try to talk to them about harmony."

"So you're mad because they're questioning your ideology and religion. That happens everyday in America and throughout the West. I, for one, feel nervous about Christianity being questioned, but that doesn't mean I'm not obligated to answer; if I don't, then the objection goes unanswered and the other person can take that as a win for what they believe... or perhaps for what they don't believe or want to believe. Why should it be any different simply because it's Equestria, it's culture, and it's religion being questioned?"

"But it's objectively better than what you have! Why should I let a perfect society be questioned?"

Jacques had to cough to prevent himself from laughing as they exited the building and went outside; she glared at him. "Miss Candy Corn, with all due respect, it's not a perfect society. Before the age of Friendship, the three main tribes - discounting Thestrals or bat-ponies, because they're left out of the story for some reason - were at each others' throats. Even though they moved on from that, it was only because three brave dissenters from that pre-unification society got together to found the very ideology you love so much today. And why should we be obligated to accept the Princesses as gods? According to the Hearthswarming pageants I've been to on campus, unicorns used to raise the sun and the moon; the only difference back in your world was that only one pony was moving each celestial body, rather than a group of individuals. The Princesses aren't even mentioned in those pageants except maybe in a memorial at the end of the play, so it seems obvious they weren't even around at the time of unification. I must also note that it is commonly accepted that Princess Luna fell to jealousy and became Nightmare Moon, despite her deification by the Church of Harmony. And there are still tensions even today within Equestrian society. There are nobles, who have power because they're nobles and not necessarily for any good any one of them has done for Equestria. There are rich ponies who price gouge and who try to pay workers as little as possible. There are scammers, including two who tried to drive one of your heroines off her property. There are even criminals, otherwise there wouldn't be a police force or Royal Guard and dungeons in Canterlot. And the ancient pegasi were warriors; Commander Hurricane, in the pageants I mentioned earlier, always talks about conquest at some point; conquest means fighting, and that means killing."

Candy Corn was quiet for a moment. "Perhaps," she said at last, very reluctantly. "But yours is a society where violence and greed and destruction are everywhere!"

Jacques stopped and waved his hand to encompass the campus; everywhere, students were on their way to class, studying, hanging out and talking with one another, or stopping at the campus cafeteria to grab a bite to eat. "How is this 'violent, greedy, and destructive,' Miss Corn? All I see here are students and their professors doing as they ought to do on a college campus; pushing their knowledge to the limits in order to land a good-paying job, making friends for life, and finding new opportunities and points of view. There aren't many purely material things that could be less violent, greedy, or destructive."

To her credit, Candy Corn did look around, and took a moment to answer. "Well, maybe here is peaceful," she admitted at last. "But your world as a whole is messed up!"

"I won't deny it, ma'am. Ever since original sin, Creation has been in torment of one kind or another, and that won't end barring the return of the True King. But answer me this; when was the last time you heard a pony in Equestria say something like, 'I love taxes?' Or when did you last see or talk to a pony who didn't have some kind of issue in their life? And that is just in a nation - the only nation now on this Earth - that can control almost everything about itself, like the Running of the Leaves to make those same leaves fall off the trees, pegasi using clouds to make weather, and - prior to coming here - the rising and setting of it's own celestial bodies. When you don't have that ability - and we don't, or nothing practical, anyway - how much harder is life? You saw the reports of the most recent tornado down in Kansas; no human, or pony, for that matter, mixed something together and made it as a weapon; the weather patterns, the mixture of hot and cold air, they are what are responsible in a purely scientific sense. Or what about the hurricane that battered Galveston, Texas last year? Humans didn't do that. When one lives in a world that seems unpredictable and wild, how do you think that tempers one's character?"

Candy Corn was again silent; she may have been hard-headed at times, but lacking an intellectual thought process wasn't one of her faults, or not too often. At last, she said, "Sounds rough."

"It is, or can be, if you let it. That all provides a bit of context for the world we live in. I won't deny humans have done, and sadly still do, messed up things, nor does what I've said let us off the hook at all for those. But turning us into human-hating organic robots isn't the answer. Without free will, there can be no good or evil, no true love or hate, only a machine-like obedience without any real morality." He looked at his watch. "If you'll excuse me, I need to get to my next class. We can talk again another time."

As he walked away, he saw a young man, a young woman, and a blue pegasus stallion emerge from the Java City on campus together, the latter using his left wing to hold a cup of steaming coffee as he talked quite happily with them. Jacques smiled. Maybe there was indeed hope for humanity and ponykind yet.

Author's Note

*A reference to the Allied Supreme Commander in Red Alert 3.

**A Maine-French word, roughly equivalent to saying, "Aw, come on!" Said like the word "Mayo," but with a w and with a pronunciation at the end like the French "non." I never learned how to spell it, and I don't know anybody who does, so I spelled it as close as I could to the pronunciation, and left this note to explain further.

I didn't mean to make humanity perfect, nor to deny that some things are bad and still bad, if not getting worse. I did try to equalize the score by pointing out pony flaws and by pointing out that many humans are, in a material sense at least, trying to make the world a better place, even if not spiritually. Namely, I'm trying to fight the Negotiationsverse Equestrian propaganda, not prop up humanity too much.

Memories

Skyward Blaze watched, without any great emotion, as the human troops and a hoofful of Resistance members marched through the streets.

Everything felt hopeless. The war was lost, large numbers of ponies had died from starvation or from food riots preceding the city's fall as well as from enemy missiles. Entire towns and cities were reduced to rubble and ruin. Even now, smoke billowed out of a window from the palace. It hadn't been there earlier in the day, but the mystery just didn't seem to matter.

Upon the receipt of the surrender, flying above a few feet over the ground had been prohibited by the conquerors. A curfew had been established; any ponies who were homeless were allowed to take up residence wherever they could, but it was clear that anypony being on the streets after 9 PM was going to be arrested. Ponies wouldn't be allowed to leave the city, but food and water would be shipped in. How much of that would simply be stolen by the victors...

After the parade had passed by, ponies began to quietly leave. Other than a few hecklers, the whole thing had been peaceful, but tense. A few ponies were arrested for throwing rocks; maybe they would never be released, if the Newspapers and statements from the Palace had it right.

There was no future he could see. The glorious past, where Equestria was a land of magic, friendship and harmony that had lived in almost undisturbed peace, was at an end. If the invaders didn't kill all the ponies they saw, which they hadn't - yet - they were going to be heavy-handed. Equestria would be turned into a puppet state, with harmony and friendship as ponies knew it banned; human culture and violence would be forced upon it, as unwanted as rapine and murder.

Some ponies were committing suicide rather than accept this future; there didn't seem to be a street he walked by where somepony wasn't lying dead from some cause, whether at their own hooves or from enemy artillery fire, or from the collapse of buildings. In many cases, the population had little strength or emotion left to try to collect and bury the dead. Garbage, uncollected, was being flung through the streets by the breeze. The stench of death, destruction, and waste filled the air.

The heroic actions, the salvations from evil villains like Nightmare Moon, Discord, Chrysalis, and Tirek felt like they had occurred centuries ago rather than just a decade and a half or so. The entire country had been... broken. Shattered.

Blaze sighed with hopelessness as he walked toward Pony Joe's. It seemed dangerous to fly, and stocks of food had vanished during the siege, with starvation imminent. Joe wouldn't have anything to sell.

But it was one place that had survived the invasion. A place he had fond memories of, before and during the war. A place where he and his friends would gather for a good night's celebration over a hard day's work, or just meet to have a good time. It felt like one of the last physical places he could go to to remember the past, and feel any sense of hope.

Human soldiers patrolled the streets now. Some of them jabbered away to one another in unintelligible languages. Some of them ignored the ponies they saw. Some of them would glare with hatred at him as they passed, but did nothing other than continue to march. A few looked sympathetic, but that might have just been a trick of the eye.

Just eight years ago, while war had seemed possible, it was hard to believe. He had chosen to join a school exchange program, and until then it hadn't been so bad. He had found it difficult that most humans could do the kinds of things that Equestria had been subjected to.

It had been at some college in the American province - no, state - of Mane. No, Maine. He shook his head. Bleegh. Names.

He felt a chuckle rise within him, and did nothing to stop it. A tiny amusement in the ruined land... even that seemed big now, given the depression and desperation that had taken over Equestria ever since the loss of Princess Luna at Jerusalem. He wondered briefly if some depression-based equivalent of windigos had fallen upon the land.

The school exchange program had been... nice. Other ponies he had spoken with since had claimed that their experiences had been entirely negative; how much of that was true and how much fear of the ESS he wasn't sure.

Something within him felt like taking a trip down memory lane; Pony Joe's was some distance away anyway, and memories cost nothing other than time, and that was about all he had at this point.

Eight years ago, 2042, three years before the war

"-and as such, the Late Medieval Period and the Renaissance can't just be split by any one date - by any date, really," Professor Jacques Dubois was saying. "The traditional date of 1453 as a cutoff line is more based on historical events within that year, such as the end of the Hundred Years' War and the Fall of Constantinople to the Ottomans than to reality. What really happened, as with the Late Classical and Early Medieval Periods, was that the Late Medieval and Renaissance eras blended together. We can see early ideas that would define the Renaissance as early as the 1300's, perhaps even earlier. Likewise, feudalism, though it was breaking down at that point, was still strong enough so it was still a dominant system. The Commercial Revolution was in full swing in big cities, where a growing middle class was becoming more prominent. The nobility still saw them as commoners, but that middle class had enough money to be able to throw their weight around."

The professor paused. "In some ways, the change between the Medieval and Renaissance eras was hard to determine. Dirt poor peasants across Europe, for example, tended to notice little change, and since most peasants lived, worked, and died within a few miles of their home village, that's not surprising. On the other hand, within cities -particularly the largest and most wealthy - the change was much more noticeable. Art and recovered Classical Era works were becoming much more common, and indeed, painting and literature was improving over this period. Naturally, the influx of Greek philosophers into Italy after Constantinople fell accelerated the entire process."

He adjusted his glasses and looked at the clock. "Okay, time's up for class today. Just before you go, I want to remind you of the study group at the Java City on campus this evening at five. We'll be discussing major themes of this transitional period between the traditionally-defined Medieval Period and the Renaissance, along with other topics as students may choose to bring up. Tomorrow there will be a movie on Desiderius Erasmus in the E.B. White building in room 14, so if you can view that film and do an essay for extra credit in this class, you can, to be handed in this coming Monday."

Blaze got up from his desk, having written down what he could during the lecture.

"Hey Blaze."

Blaze turned to see Sunflower, a light yellow unicorn, finish packing her saddlebags.

"What's up?"

"Wanna go to Java city early? I could go for a cup of Jo right about now."

"Well, class is over for the day, so..."

"Hey, get your hooves off my marefriend," a green pegasus said, with false anger and bravado in his voice.

"Emerald, we've been over this," Sunflower said, doing her best to sound like she was exasperated while being unable to hold back a bright smile on her face. "I'm not your marefriend... yet. So leave poor Blaze alone."

"Poor Blaze?" the pegasus replied, a hoof to his chest as if he'd just been wounded. "I'm the one who you should be sorry for."

All three of them spent the next few seconds laughing their heads off.

"Finally, the monkey's finally done talking for the day," came a voice to his right.

"Aw, come on, Rocky," Emerald said to a large brown earth pony. "Why you always gotta be like that?"

"Because he's a human, and the Princesses tell us you can't trust 'em. Look how many wars they've fought, how many lives they've wasted. Also, the name's Rock Hard, not Rocky."

"And how many murderous humans have you run into on campus?" said a yellow pegasus from just above. "Give me one example."

"Hmph. Swift Wind, you're out of your mind if you think these apes can't turn violent on a dime."

"Sure, maybe some few of them," Swift replied. "But not all of them."

"Don't ever let up your guard," Rock Hard said. "They're all monsters waiting to happen, even the 'good' ones." He shifted his saddlebags and trotted out of the room.

By now, the room was entirely empty save for Blaze, Sunflower, Emerald, Swift, and Professor Dubois, who was looking on with an amused expression on his face.

"I suppose I ought to congratulate you two," he said, walking over slowly and gesturing to Sunflower and Emerald. "Anyone who says what you did in that voice is practically hitched already."

"Hey!" Sunflower exclaimed, raising her hooves in pretend anger as she sat back down. "We're not a couple yet, let alone husband and wife."

"I know, I'm just pulling your leg." Dubois took his glasses off and began to wipe them with a cloth. "Dust particles," he muttered.

"Hey Prof," Emerald began, "What'chu plannin' on talkin' bout at Java?"

"Well, if you're not satisfied with what I've said when class ended, I'm hoping to go a bit into the future from the medieval era and start discussing early Renaissance figures, like Filippo Brunelleschi and Michelangelo, as well as the societal and cultural shifts in Italy during that time." He finished wiping his glasses, replaced them on his face, and put the cloth away.

"I can't wait!" Sunflower said, eager. She'd always loved the history lessons, even though some of them featured dark stuff.

"I'll be there too," Blaze said. "Can't say where Rocky'll be."

"I believe his name is 'Rock Hard,'" Dubois said, with the kind of voice used by authority figures when they were kidding. "But I digress. I confess I feel disappointed that he feels the way he does."

"Don't worry about that big lug," Swift Wing said, floating in the air just below the ceiling. "He's always been rock-headed. I'm sure... I hope," she continued, hoof to her chin and pondering, "he'll turn around some day."

"May God grant it be so," the professor said, a hand momentarily on the left side of his chest.

"Don't say that 'round him," Emerald warned. "He's a Princess-worshipper to the core."

"Well, this is America," Dubois noted, "where everyone is allowed to have their own opinions and voice them. Well, provided it isn't either blatant fighting words or physical threats." He looked at all of them, smiling warmly. "I must say, you've all been doing well in your grades. Keep it up, and you might be taking my job within the next couple of years."

"Come off it, prof," Emerald said, raising a hoof in disbelief. "You know everything. What would they replace you for?"

"For one, only God knows everything. Secondly, I was worried they might replace me years ago for my various beliefs, back when the country was really divided on politics, so you can't say for 100% certain I'm not expendable to the college. Nonetheless, you have my thanks for the compliment. But know this, that all professors and men and women of knowledge have only built upon the shoulders of the giants who came before them."

"There were literal giants?" Emerald asked in earnest.

"He's being figurative, you goof," Sunflower said, lightly cuffing him on the ear with a hoof.

"Ow!" the pegasus said, in surprise rather than real pain.

"I hope your families are doing well back in Equestria," Dubois said.

"Yeah, my dad's mechanic business in Cloudsdale is doin' alright," Emerald replied.

"Mom's happy to get my letters," Sunflower said, though her smile slipped. "But... she doesn't like that I'm here instead of home. She's not too keen on humans, to put it lightly, and, well, she's worried about me being... well..."

"Violence or worse," the professor said, to which the unicorn nodded. "I promise that won't be happening to any student within my classroom if I have anything at all to say about it."

"Thanks, doc, but it's not gonna persuade my mom. Or my dad, come to that; he hates humans more than mom. He only agreed to let me come here provided I gave him a promise to reject human culture and technology."

"And all those things were recently made illegal in Equestria," Dubois said, frowning. "I don't like that. The internet's the easiest way to communicate between our worlds. Even the barrier doesn't stop it."

"Speaking of which, are you planning to...?"

"I will not be drinking the potion, if that's what you were going to say. I'm human, and will remain so to my dying day."

"But... how will you survive...?"

"I've been reading up on NASA. There's been talk recently of a program to build a colony on Mars by people who reject the potion utterly. I suppose if the barrier can't be stopped - may it not be so! - I'll be one of them."

"You mean, go to another planet entirely?" Blaze asked, eyes widening. "And leave everything, even the history, behind you?"

"Better than being turned into a human-hating organic automaton, if you ask me."

"The Princess has denounced those lies," Blaze said. "You don't have anything to fear."

"Even if I didn't, the problem of identity comes up. I fully intend on remaining human."

"Even with a history of death, nature being despoiled, and everything else?"

"Blaze, there's a lot more to humans than mere violence," Dubois said, looking concerned. "I would have thought that your European classes up to now would have proved that to you. Yes, there's great evil, and you can blame the entry of evil into creation on the devil, Adam, and Eve. But even so, by the grace of God, there's been good as well. In the time of the First World War, there was no penicillin. People died of disease without it. But after its discovery in 1928 by Alexander Flemming, death from disease dropped drastically. And things have been improving in other areas as well. A few decades ago, you had to wrestle with TV antennas just to get a clearer picture; now television shows and movies come through almost entirely uninhibited. And socially, things have improved as well. In the 1850s, slavery existed in America, and women couldn't vote. Both those things are untrue now; all people in the US have the same freedoms guaranteed by the Constitution, and women can't legally be paid less for the same job and hours as a man. There are charities, including the Salvation Army, Goodwill, and organizations dedicated to fighting disease and conditions, such as Saint Jude's. So while things may not be the sunshine and rainbows they may have been in Equestria, some things - not all, by any means - are improving."

"But... some of it still exists," Swift said. "You've admitted yourself to opposing gay marriage, and to different species marrying one another."

"I do oppose those things," the professor replied. "I believe that males should only marry females and vice versa, and I believe that each species was only ever meant to procreate after its own kind. But I do not hate those people who do those things or hold to the opposite opinion, nor I do not seek for our races to be unequal. I want humanity and ponykind to have a peaceful future between one another, with the barrier halted and with friendship - honest, built-in-time friendship - being our companion. I hope and pray that there may be peace between our peoples, but given the more and more tenuous relationship between us and Equestria... let's just say I'm worried for the future."

"Me too," Swift Wing said, frowning. "I can't say I want war. I, for one, have come to love Maine; forests as far as the eye can see in one direction, beautiful ocean in another. And the occasional moose sighting. Why would anypony want to destroy it?"

"But sadly there's no resting on clouds here," the professor noted.

"Well, yeah, that sucks," Swift said, frowning for a moment. "Pegasi can't rest on your clouds like they can at home. But so long as I have any strength in my wings, I can see a beautiful place to live."

"I hope Celestia ends up seeing that."

Oddly enough, that whole scene brought a momentary smile to his face. The past could be comforting.

However, that smile disappeared when he came within sight of Pony Joe's. Some human soldiers were hanging out around the building.

Lieutenant Dubois cautiously opened the door to the bar. It looked so much like an old diner, with the tiled floors, the tables, and the seats at the counter.

"Hello?" A tan unicorn stallion with gray hooves called from behind the counter.

"Ah, good, someone's still here. Is this your place?"

"Yep. Donut Joe, though friends call me Pony Joe."

"I'm surprised you're not yelling insult at me, or staring at me like you wish I'd burn," Jacques said, walking closer to the counter.

To his surprise, the unicorn frowned, but the anger in his eyes wasn't directed towards him. "I know we've been beaten. We should have given up the month before. We should have given up before the blood-suckin' leeches in the ESS took my best friend Millstone to who-knows-where; he never returned. I hate what's been done with this country ever since the war started, and not all of it is because of you guys."

"I suppose you don't have any donuts I could buy?"

"Nope. Been out for a couple months. Sorry, bud, wish I could, I could use any money right about now. In case ya hadn't noticed, the shop's not at 'er best."

"I noticed. Do you have anything?"

Pony Joe put a shod hoof to his chin. "I might have a few cocoa beans and some water, enough to make... ersatz coffee."

"I'll take it."

Pony Joe doffed his hat. "My thanks to ya, friend. That'll be.. well, 1 bit."

"My apologies, I only have US dollars."

"In that case, $0.99. I have a calculator to keep track. And bits have... become less valuable recently."

"You mean they lightly coat gold over copper or something?"

"Yep."

Jacques sat down on one of the stools at the counter and paid out $1.00. "Even chocolate-flavored water would be better than the water in my canteen. I can hardly drink it, warm as it is."

"Sorry, pal. Give me a minute to look around my storeroom, will ya?"

"Of course."

Jacques looked around at the place. Reminds me of the diner in Fallout 4, he thought. Of course, one could say that of a lot of the outer city.

Pony Joe came out a minute later, crushed the beans in his hooves, and began stirring them in a cup of water. The water turned brown quite fast.

"Here ya go."

"Thanks." Jacques sipped the cup, happy that the flavor wasn't all that bad. "Sorry about what our artillery did to this place."

"I don't blame ya, bud, or at least, not you personally. Celly should have surrendered after Colonel Blazehoof went down."

"Well, I..." Jacques trailed off. "Did you say Lieutenant Colonel Blazehoof?"

"Yeah."

"Hmm..." Jacques hummed, looking into the swirling brown in his cup.

"Why? What's up?"

"I... I think the 19th Maine National Guard may have had something to do with that," he said, fingers of his right hand brushing the badge of his unit.

July 1st, 2050

"Lieutenant, are they sure of that?" Sergeant Andrew "Andy" Carmichael asked, voice quiet.

"Qui," Jacques said, answering in French as he occasionally did. "An Equestrian force - their last major field army - is attempting to relieve the siege. And they're heading right for our regiment."

Both men were lying prone, with Jacques using binoculars to look for any signs of movement.

Andy let out some vile cuss words. "Sucks that we're the flank of the division... and the army."

"Oh, Andy, didn't you learn anything about Gettysburg?" Jacques asked, putting down the binoculars and turning to face him. "If Mainers can do anything, they can hold the flank of an army. And we have artillery and other fire support, not to mention the Thalmann Generators. It's not like the old days, where their Princesses could heat ray* entire battalions in moments. Their magic's almost no good, their spears are wildly out of date for the 21st Century, and their small arms are based on World War II weapons. If they try to break through us, we'll thrash them well enough. And we're well hidden, in these woods just outside the city."

"Well, that's true, sir, but I'd hate for them to pull some surprise out of their butts."

"Yeah, I'd hate that too," Jacques said. "They've done that a few times. They've even hurt us in this invasion, despite their magic being of little use. It took a few days to secure Manehatten, if you'll remember. But it really is only a matter of time, Andy. They don't have the numbers to hold us off when we break that shield, and we will. Even if this army got in, we could take the place; it would cost a bit more, but we'd take it."

"I'd hate to be one of the guys who bit it when it's almost over."

"Me too, Andy. Me too."

After a few minutes, the sergeant asked, "When did the intel say they'd be here?"

"Within a couple hours."

"Hate having to just lie here for that long."

"As do I, but-"

A loud, distant neighing from in front of them brought both men out of their thoughts. Jacques raised his binoculars and looked down the road.

At first, there wasn't anything to see; trees off in the distance, the road, leaves blown by the wind, things like that. But it was only a few seconds before the sun shone off of silver and gold armor.

Armed ponies, some from the army and some from what was left of the Royal Guard, were marching their way.

They were a sorry-looking lot, upon second inspection. Some had rifles and submachine guns; two that Jacques could see had modern rifles that they no doubt had captured from some obscure skirmish somewhere and modified for use by hooves. But most had spears, shields, and swords, and some crossbows. The armor of the Guards was mostly battered and suffered from other damage. The uniforms worn by some recently-recruited soldiers - or so he suspected, given that most military ponies up 'til now had worn armor - were ragged, and it was anyone's guess as to how some of them remained on. It was even more impressive that some of the battered ponies could march at all, let alone carry anything; some of the uniforms and armor stuck all-too closely to skeletal-looking bellies, and many of the ponies looked gaunt and haggard in general.

At their head was a bright orange earth pony stallion with bright yellow hooves. He was big for a pony; even the biggest stallions Jacques had seen were usually somewhat smaller than this. He bore golden armor, and a large sword was held in his right fetlock.

"What do you see?"

"They're here," Jacques said, ignoring the fact that Andy had forgotten to call him sir. "And a lot sooner than we expected."

Andy spent several more seconds swearing, with most of his curses being aimed at army intelligence. "How did they get here so fast?"

"I don't know. Maybe they masked their approach and used a decoy to fool us into thinking that they were farther away than they were. Maybe intel was unreliable. Maybe this is an entirely new force. I'll tell you one thing, Andy; I feel sorry for those ragged skeletons across from us. A flock of worn-out crows would stand a better chance of getting through to Canterlot than they do."

"But we're alone. A couple hours and we'd have plenty of troops to turn this place into a slaughter field."

"And who says that won't happen anyway? Get on the radio and get the boys ready."

Word got around very quickly; Jacques could see some of the trees move slightly as the men prepared for battle.

Poor rascals. Probably thought they could get in if they went around our flank. Might have been right, if they'd come a few hours sooner. Not that they'd do much good even if they succeeded.

The 19th Maine hadn't seen the most fighting of any unit during the invasion of Equestria; the better armed (sometimes spectacularly better armed and armored) troops of the main armies had done most of the work, especially those with laser and plasma rifles. Generals didn't think much of troops armed with second-rate gear, and certainly not of militia, even well-armed militia.

Of course, second rate gear was infinitely better than spears and swords in this day and age. Magic from any normal unicorn was almost a non-sequitur. And whatever the Maine National Guard might have been, unreliable in a fight wasn't something they could be accused of, not truthfully anyway.

Word came in to hold fire until the last possible moment. Jacques had to watch as the ponies came closer and closer.

One of the Guards next to the enemy's bright orange leader suddenly jerked his head, and turned to talk to him. The leader talked back. It was much too far away for Jacques to hear them, but he feared they might have seen something.

However, the orange stallion simply motioned with his sword towards the city, and the subordinate backed off.

Jacques raised his M-22, aiming carefully.

Firing suddenly broke out from the right; a number of ponies on (what was for them) the left side of the column keeled over.

Oh, for... "Fire! Fire!"

Rifle and machine gun fire broke out. By some dint of fortune, the orange pony was not hit, although several of the ponies around him were, and waving his sword, he hollered for his soldiers to advance.

More and more ponies broke out from the tree line, breaking formation in order to rush into the fight more quickly. Some - Jacques guessed the more experienced among them - went prone, firing whatever ranged weapons they had. Others charged ahead. A few - but only a few - broke and fled. Most continued the advance where they could.

The orange stallion suddenly jerked forward and lay flat on the ground, legs splayed in all directions. He was clearly dead. His head didn't explode, but Jacque could tell a corpse when he saw it. From the angle, the fatal shot hadn't come from his platoon, and probably not even from within this company.

Regardless of whoever fired the fatal shot, chaos broke out among the enemy. Some fled, but others, desperate, continued fighting; some charged ahead with little more than spears or swords. One or two had nothing but their hooves to fight with, but charged regardless. They were either cut down in minutes, or forced to go prone like their other comrades.

Wheeeeeeeeeeeeeer- BOOM! A shell burst within the enemy ranks. Another fell, and another.... A storm of shot and shell.

Already in a losing position, and with their leader dead, most of the remaining ponies either went flat - dead or just lying prone - or fled, throwing away their weapons as they did. One of those who escaped was the pony who had been talking to the leader.

"Forward!"

Captain Reynolds' voice rang out; from where, Jacques didn't know. He raised himself up and began running across the field. Hundreds of men, the entire regiment, surged forward. Most just ran, as the ponies had run towards them moments ago. A few tried to crouch every few yards and look for targets, but it was very soon clear that the enemy had no more fight left in them. A loud cheer rose as the last few ponies who were not dead, wounded, or otherwise lying on the field disappeared into the opposite set of trees.

"Start taking prisoners!"

Along with the rest of the unit, Jacques began looking for living ponies to take alive.

Modern bullets did a lot of damage. Jacques winced at some of the wounds he saw. The enemies who had remained on the field rather than run had been brave, but in this day and age bravery needed to be tempered with caution and fire support. They had had neither at their disposal.

Presently, Jacques came up to the orange stallion who had been leading the group. He'd been shot in the back of the head, presumably from a company that had been off to an angle on the right of his platoon. At least his head wasn't in ruins; the morticians wouldn't have much of a problem putting him back together.

The name "Lieutenant Colonel Blazehoof" was embroidered on a badge on the front of his armor. His sword, useless, lay buried in the ground about half a foot in front of his head.

"Well I'll be," one of his men said. "We bagged a big one."

"That's wicked good," another said, rifle raised in one hand, barrel pointing to the sky.

"Did we stop them, sir," Andy asked, "or was this just the first wave?"

Jacques looked around the battlefield. Those ponies fortunate enough to have remained unwounded were being rounded up. A pegasus from the Resistance, saddlebags emblazed with the Red Cross, landed near one of the injured ponies, and began to administer aid. The moans and cries of the wounded rose from the battlefield.

"Corporal Hagan, take th-" Jacques looked around. "Where's Corporal Hagen?"

Another man, looking sullen, walked up to him. "Dead, sir. Crossbow bolt right between the eyes, under his helmet."

I suppose I underestimated what even medieval weapons can do. "Anyone else?"

The man thought for a second. "Thomas got shot in the left shoulder, and Wilkins got a bullet across his left facial cheek. I think they'll both live, though. I don't know the losses for other platoons of companies, sir."

"Hmm..." Jacques looked around again. "Gentlemen, I may be wrong, but I think I have doubts that another wave is coming. I think this was their last gasp. If those fellows don't surrender soon, no doubt they'll starve to death. And if they do come at us again, we'll give them the same treatment that we just gave them."

As the men gave contented growls - a few cheered - Jacques said, much more quietly, "Can't be long now."

"So, that's what happened," Pony Joe said, nodding slowly. "Poor guy. Gotta feel sorry for his boys, too."

"I certainly do, and did, but most of our army don't feel that way. Given the torment that Equestria's given the world these past five years, it's no wonder. If you'd seen what they did to New York City, or Berlin, or Rome or Mecca for that matter... Entire cities and their people, gone, and great monuments obliterated."

"I was told by somepony that the Crystal Cannon only wiped out the buildings, and ponified the humans there."

Jacques forced down the rage he felt. "I'll tell you what's left of seven million people and their cities, Mr. Joe; a sea of bright blue glass. That's all that's left of seven million people; fields of pure glass, an occasional crystalized statue on the edge of the whole thing, and echoes in the wind. Nothing else. They're all dead, no survivors. Every last building leveled to the ground in an instant. If it weren't for the glass, you wouldn't know a city had been in either of those places."

Pony Joe was stunned. "You can't be-"

"I'm dead serious, Mr. Joe. I've been to Rome myself after it was blown away. Nothing, nothing but seas of glass and melted hills. All that was left of the people, all that was left of Republican and Imperial glory of millennia ago... glass. Glass and blue crystals here and there, sprouting out of the ground as if they'd been planted there."

"I believe you," Pony Joe said, taking his hat off, still looking like someone had slammed him in the face with a sledgehammer. "I didn't realize... you mean..."

Jacques sighed. "I do. Sorry, Mr. Joe, I didn't mean to be-"

"Don't apologize. If anything, ponykind has more to apologize for than any human ever did. Seven million," he muttered, shaking his head. "No wonder you guys blew the Crystal Empire to oblivion."

"And that's just the Crystal Cannon. I don't know how many more people died from magic beams, speartips, swords and crossbows, not to mention people fried to nothing by that forever-cursed barrier and turned into brainless automatons only ever capable of doing what real ponies tell them to." Jacques leaned his elbow on the counter, his head resting in his hand. "Three billion... gone or just... gibbering, human-hating..." He sighed.

"I've seen Newfoals. Thought they seemed nice. But there was something wrong with 'em. They wouldn't take a dime from you unless you made 'em, and if you told them to do anything - even suggest something to 'em - they'd do it." Pony Joe's tongue came out in disgust. "Even the most disgusting and degrading things. Apparently, some of the nobles had Newfoals working for them. I thought they were paid servants, but knowing this now, they must have been modern-day serfs."

"You don't know the half of it. Have you ever seen someone, a loving mother perhaps, take the potion, and then, once she's turned, tells her children she hates them and that they're disgusting and that she never wants to see them again?" Jacques felt tears coming down his face, one landing in his cup. "I've seen it. Almost nothing aside from physical torture could be worse, sir. Almost nothing."

Both of them were quiet for some time. At last, not caring about the tear that had landed in it, Jacques drained the cup in one gulp. "Thanks, Mr. Joe."

"No worries, bud. And enough with the 'mister;' it's Pony Joe, or just regular old Joe'll do fine."

Skyward Blaze continued standing outside Pony Joe's, not sure whether to try to enter the building or to just leave. The humans kept looking in his direction, but they weren't shooting. Not yet, anyway.

He spent several moments staring at the sky. According to the Church of Harmony, the sky would turn an apocalyptic red and orange during the final battle, and the sun and moon momentarily darkened. The sky was still blue, and the sun - the sun of Earth - was the same color it had always been since they'd arrived on this planet.

His head drooped. Everything was out of balance. Everything had gone wrong. What reason was there...

A human soldier walked out of Pony Joe's. He tossed a cup he was carrying into a trash can and began talking to one of the men. "Andy, what the situation? Anything happen in the past fifteen minutes or so?"

"No, sir. Just an orange pegasus, right over there, came over here and... well, he's just sitting there."

Blaze lifted up his head. The first voice... it sounds so familiar...

At the same time, the soldier who had emerged from the shop looked at him. There was a long moment in which nothing was said.

At last, the man said, "Skyward Blaze? Is that you?"

Blaze stood up. "How do you know my name?"

"I ought to know it; I taught you back in college, seven or eight years ago."

Blaze's mind went back to his college days. Of course that voice sounded familiar.

"Pro-professor Dubois?"

The man smiled, joy and sadness warring in his face. "It's Lieutenant Dubois now, but yes." He walked over to Blaze, until he was just a few feet away. "It's good to see one of my old students again."

Author's Note

*Deliberate reference to The War of the Worlds.

I also realize that the ending may sound really creepy. I swear, that's not my intention.

Reunion

Blaze didn't know what to say. His old professor, whom he'd always liked, was standing here, almost like old times.

On the other hoof, he was clearly part of the invading army.

Dubois realized what he was thinking all too quickly. "I'll admit, I wish we could have met again under more ideal circumstances... preferably without the whole war happening at all."

"Why do you remember me? Out of hundreds, maybe thousands of students..."

"A good professor never forgets one of his students. He may forget certain things about them, but never forgets their existence in his life."

Dubois knelt down and patted Blaze's mane. "It's so good to see you safe and sound."

"Bu-but you're one of them!" he said loudly. "One of the human invaders!"

"Relax." Dubois stood up again. "These men - er, some of them - are under my command. You're safe. Nobody's gonna shoot you.

"Th-that's not what I mean! You're going to... to..."

Dubois' face twisted in emotional pain. "Going to what?" he asked, in a sad voice Blaze had only ever heard once before.

Six-seven years ago, 2044, two years before the war

The recall order from Equestria had come. All ponies were to leave human nations and return to Equestria immediately. It was a command from the Princesses themselves. All across campus, ponies were packing their bags and getting ready to head back home.

Most were all too glad to go. Many gathered their things and left without even talking to their human "friends."

Professor Dubois was standing within a largely empty classroom. In front of him, in a semi-circle, stood Emerald, Sunflower, Blaze, Rock Hard, and Swift Wing.

"Thanks for coming, all of you," he began. "I must apologize for the haste in which I asked you to come here, but given the circumstances, I wanted to make this goodbye count."

"That's what you called us all here for?" Rock Hard said in disbelief. "To say goodbye? Really?"

"Is that so hard to believe, Rock Hard?" the professor asked, looking sorrowful. "I'm going to miss you all, even though I guess we're at DEFCON 2 as of now."

"Thanks, professor," Swift Wing said gratefully. "We, or at least, I, enjoyed my time in your classes."

"Me too," Sunflower said, levitating over a bouquet of flowers. "Sorry I couldn't do more in the time I had, but I wanted to give you a thank you gift before we left."

The professor smiled. "Thanks, Sunflower. I'll put them in a vase; I hope my wife enjoys them."

Sunflower smiled.

"I can't say I've enjoyed every minute here," Blaze said. "I... especially with the riots on campus after Lemon Beaker defected..."

The professor sighed. "I can't say I have anything but anger for those riots. Not all ponies are to blame for the potion. And some students who let their emotions rule their actions have been expelled, some of from my own classes. I can't help but feel disappointment, though justice has been served."

"Well, it wasn't your life on the line, now was it?" Rock asked aggressively. "They wouldn't have murdered you! You're a human, just like them!"

"Stop it, man!" Emerald said, smacking Rock in the back of the head with his right wing. "We all lived through it, and some of our human friends were the first to protect us!"

"The least bad apples out of the barrel, but a less bad apple is still bad, and all it takes is one to spoil the whole barrel!"

"Shut up!" Sunflower snapped.

"I'll be getting my things and going, then, monkey-lover," Rock Hard said, getting up and starting to walk out of the classroom. He stopped at the door and turned his head. "I have to say, you weren't the worst out of the bunch. I hope you're the first to get a potion to the face before we clobber your butts."

Dubois' face twisted; the pain he felt from that comment, from a student he had grown to care for, was obvious. "Do you hate us that much?"* he asked, in miserable voice.

Rock Hard didn't answer.

Sunflower glared furiously at Rock, then turned Emerald, who likewise looked her in the eye. They both nodded, and her pointed at her with the feathers of his right wing. "Professor Dubois, we don't all hate you. In-in fact..." She seemed to struggle to get the words out. "We're staying."

"WHAT!?" Rock shouted.

"What!?" Blaze and Swift echoed, though not as loudly.

"Yeah," Emerald said; his face was nervous, but his voice was firm. "Me an' Sunny, we're stayin' here. If the rest o' ya'll wanna go home, that's fine, but we're stayin' here."

"You... You... You..."

"Say it, big guy!"

"You're... You're traitors to the pony race!" Rock shouted. "You would rather live among war-loving, nature-hating monkeys!?"

"You're blind, Rock," Sunflower said, walking up to him, her horn faintly glowing as she prepared for any attack he might throw her way. "You hate humans simply because the Princesses say they're irredeemable. Have you considered that maybe it's the Princesses who are wrong, and not humanity as a whole?"

"Our Princesses are goddesses! They can't be wrong! You've been taken in by Lyra and her race traitors!"

"I'll admit, I've listened to her on the radio," Sunflower said. "But this has been our decision. Our leaders are wrong! Have you learned nothing from your history classes and lectures?"

"I've learned enough. It only confirms everything we were told by the Princesses. Look at what we've been learning! Greed, violence, genocide, wars, mayhem. That's all that they ultimately bring!"

"Did you ever take the time to know any of them personally?" Sunflower continued. "Have you actually tried talking to them besides saying, 'buzz off, ape,' or 'get away from me, monkey?'"

"Of course not! Why would I let myself be taken in, like you two idiots?"

"Wow, talk about the pot calling the kettle black, Rock! Maybe you should look in a mirror and realize that ponies aren't much better!"

"Are you serious? He's brainwashed you!"

"My hoof he has! Our teacher, our professor, has been a better friend to us than you ever were. I've even made friends with other girls here, spent a bunch of girl time with them; they're just like mares back home, to be honest, interested in hair and makeup and all that."

"They're only trying to pull the wool over your eyes!"

"Ya keep sayin' that, like a broken record, Rock," Emerald broke in. "Maybe that shoulda been your name. On the tha otha hoof, 'Rock Hard' fits ya like good horseshoes do hooves. By the way, you might also wanna get the nails in yours fixed up before ya leave, or they'll drop right off."

"At least I'm not some feather-brained, human-loving traitor!" Rock growled as one of the nails in his hoof came loose. He stamped the floor hard to put the nail back in its place, preventing his horseshoe from loosening. "Darn, rusting..."

"If you took time to visit a human farrier, those hooves would be in good shape, and you wouldn't be in danger of throwing a shoe every five steps!" Sunflower snarled. "You haven't been to a farrier since you left Equestria, and now all your horseshoes, and the nails holding them to your hooves, are old and rusty."

"I'd rather suffer aching hooves and rusty shoes than trust monsters to fix them!"

"Are... Are you guys sure?" Blaze asked Sunflower and Emerald, still stunned.

Sunflower, after casting a directed shield spell toward Rock, turned to face him, a loving look in her face. "Blaze, we've talked about it over the past day, and... I think Emerald and me have come to the right decision. We're staying in Maine, with our real friends. I'm sorry we didn't tell you before, but... I promise I - we, never meant to hurt you, or Swift for that matter... or even lunkhead over here," she said, jerking her head toward Rock for a second. "Equestria has become a self-righteous pit ever since we've arrived on this world. At least humans - some of them, anyway - admit their faults and try to overcome them. We... we try to blur it all over with 'friendship' and ''harmony' that papers over our hatred for anything different from us or our society, a fault that has only deepened ever since we've come here. So, I'm sorry to you two, but... we're staying."

"But.. But what will your mom and dad say?" Blaze blurted out.

Sunflower's face faded a bit, but her voice remained strong. "They won't like it, to say the least. But I'm a grown mare, able to make her own decisions, just like all of you. And I don't believe that the drivel our Princess has been spewing is right in the least. Even without Lyra's stuff, I think I would have come to this decision."

"Yep," Emerald said. "I haven't even listened ta Lyra's speeches, and I still think this is the right call."

There was a long silence. The only sound in the room was a soft hum coming from Sunflower's shield.

Finally, Rock broke it. "I'm not staying to listen to the lies of race traitors. Come on, Blaze, Swift. We're real Equestrians, not humans in pony skins."

"Rock," Sunflower said, her voice soft and quiet, "I pity you."

Rock's only response was a hard growl as he left the room. Sunflower sighed and dropped the shield.

"I'm... I'm sorry," Swift Wing said at last. "But... I have to go home. I have a family that will be worried sick."

"I... I... I... need to go with them," Blaze stammered. "I just can't become a traitor to my family and friends back home. I just... can't."

Emerald laid a hoof on Blaze's withers. "Don't worry, man. We understand."

"For what it's worth," the professor said, adjusting his glasses, "I've been honored to teach all of you, including Rock Hard. I'm sorry to see you go, but it's your decision to make." He sighed. "I wish you could all be present for graduation at this college. Maybe your senior theses could have helped establish peace between our peoples, or at least make a statement to that effect. It's always a joy for one student to see others excel, or at least it ought to be. "

"Student? You're our - were our - professor!"

Dubois laughed. "Didn't you know, Blaze? A schoolteacher or professor is simply a student who has learned enough to teach what he knows to others, but he is still learning. I've certainly learned much from the five of you, and from all my other students, human or otherwise. As the song from the old Disney movie Tarzan says, 'In learning you will teach, and in teaching you will learn.' That remains true, no matter the species."

"W-well, we have to go now," Swift Wing said, looking like she was about to burst. "I loved your classes, professor. I really hope the Princesses change their minds."

"I'll do all of you - including Rock, though he's not here - a bit of a favor. You're all 'Withdrawn-Passing.' I have no doubt you would have achieved A's if this whole mess wasn't going on."

"For what it's worth, sir, you been like some kind of father to us," Swift said.

"That's how a bond between a teacher and his students should be. I'm sad to see you go, but I'm - for the lack of a better term - proud of what you've accomplished, along with the others."

"G-good bye, professor," Swift concluded, picking up her bags. "I... I hope we see each other again in peace time, just as we all are."

"As do I, Swift Wing. As do I."

As Blaze turned to leave, he heard Sunflower stamp her hoof. "Bah! I just criticized Rock for having loose shoes, and one of the nails in my own hoof is coming loose. So much for self-awareness."

Blaze turned to face her as Swift flew out of the room from above him. "You okay?"

"I will be," Sunflower said, nodding. "Hope to see ya soon, Blaze."

"Yeah... hope to see you soon too..."

As his head turned to face the door, he caught a glimpse of Professor Dubois' face one last time. The man looked as if his own children were leaving him. Shaking off the feeling of friendship he'd had for his teacher and classmates, Blaze couldn't help feeling very, very sad as he left the classroom. It felt all too much as if part of his own heart were being torn out, and he realized that that must be what Dubois and his other friends were feeling as they parted for what might well be the last time.

Blaze looked away; given the loss he'd seen, the last part of that memory seemed so painful now. "You're... you're gonna turn us into glue... destroy our culture for those who do survive... You... You slaughtered Ponyville for no reason..."

Jacques looked to the skies as he tried to think of a way to reply. "Yes, the bombing of Ponyville was horrible. I marched through it on my way here."

"Why? They were just ponies living their lives..."

Jacques sighed. "SAC** thought there were good reasons for it. They didn't tell us ground pounders, but I think there were a number of reasons. One, it was the home of one of Equestria's two surviving Princesses, so they hoped to take her out in that attack. Two, it was a place where different railroads merge, so hitting the infrastructure would hurt Equestria's ability to ship soldiers and weapons across the country. Three, retreating soldiers were there, and taking them out would again hurt Equestria's ability to continue fight back. Fourth, it was a culturally important place, so destroying it would demoralize remaining resistance, though in my opinion that usually only aggravates people to keep fighting."

"And... revenge."

Another sigh. "I won't lie to you, Blaze; most of humanity hates ponies, and given what we've lost - given who we've lost - a lot of people wouldn't shed a tear if you all died. That's not me trying to be cruel, or wanting it to be true; it's a self-evident fact at this point."

"But... why? What did we do to possibly deserve the Crystal Empire and Ponyville being destroyed?"

"Deserved... that's not the word I'd use. But... Rome. Mecca. Both turned to glass. All the people there vaporized, along with every building and every landmark and everything unique about those places just gone. Seven million killed from those two cities being cast into oblivion. And like I sad to Pony Joe back there, that's not even counting civilians and soldiers killed in the attacks on our cities, of great monuments melted or broken or vaporized or otherwise destroyed, and untold millions or billions turned into gibbering, human-hating organic machines that have no choice but to do what ponies say. That's what the vengeful among us will say in response to that line of questioning, and there are a lot of those."

"But..." Blaze trailed off. For a moment, he didn't speak. Finally, he said weakly, "You're... you must be... lying."

"Son, you know me better than that. I didn't hesitate to call any of you out for sloppy work or for making a habit of showing up late to class. I'm not joking or lying about this. I saw Mother Rome herself; gone."

There was a long silence, stretching maybe five whole minutes. Neither of them moved or said anything.

"Human scumbags."

Jacques looked up to see an ex-Guard approaching, still wearing his armor. His brown coat and voice seemed familiar...

"Waltzing down our streets like you're all proud to be murdering trash; I hope Twilight Sparkle burns in hell for surrendering to you."

Jacques suppressed yet another sigh. "Hello, Rock Hard. It's been a few years."

The stallion stopped. "Do I know you?"

"Don't you recognize me? I taught you back in college... in Maine."

The stallion glared at him for a long time. Finally, he said, "Professor Dubois?"

"Qui, monsieur, c'est moi."

Rock's mouth formed into an angry, teeth-bearing wall. "Should have known you'd enjoy murdering ponies."

"Self defense is not murder. From Bar Harbor, Portsmouth, all the way down to New York, all the way up to the invasion... you were the ones to attack us. And this invasion could have been stopped if only Celly had surrendered."

"It's Princess Celestia, you blasphemous ape!"

"Not anymore," Jacques replied. "I know for a fact she's out. Whether Twilight is out is up to the negotiations to follow. And, forgive me, you spoke of murder; what was the vaporizing of Rome and Mecca to you?"

"The destruction of false holy sites."

"The murder of seven million people and the turning of historically important cities into seas of glass. That's all that was left of either of them. My unit went through Rome before it got deployed for the invasion; I can tell you that that's all that's left of it. That, and one burnt cross from Saint Peter's Basilica. That's all that physically remains of three million people and thousands of years worth of history. And where the Crystal Cannon didn't do damage, pony armies did. Three billion people killed or turned into Celestia-loving flesh-machines."

"No less than what you deserve, given what you did to us."

"All of which happened after you attacked us, with the intention of erasing humanity, both physically and from all of history. Some historians would say that's unforgivable," Jacques said, feeling rising anger and just barely stopping himself from whipping his rifle off his shoulder. At least I know what Giraud and the others felt now, not that it's making me feel any better. "Stop thinking yours is the perfect society where nothing goes wrong; if that were true, no Royal Guard or dungeons, much less the ESS, would exist."

"We needed those for all the race traitors!"

"Were they? How many innocent ponies got dragged away by the ESS simply because their neighbors took advantage of an old grudge?"

"A lot fewer than actually deserved it."

"And did you ever stop to think that maybe Celestia was wrong and we were right? Did you for one second stop to look at the issue from an unbiased point of view? On second thought, don't bother answering. You never did, and the war wouldn't have done anything to make you change," Jacques said, an anger he hated having risen to boiling point. Lord, please forgive me, he thought, feeling guilty immediately even though the anger was still raging within him.

Rock opened his mouth to speak, but from out of nowhere a yellow bulk slammed into Jacques, who fell over onto his side.

"Sir!" someone yelled, and there were the sounds of two pairs of boots thumping the pavement.

Jacques was still winded, and trying to understand what had happened, when a pair of hooves wrapped themselves around his middle.

He managed to sit up, and the hooves dropped off.

"You're under arrest!"

"No, don't," Jacques said as he realized just who had crashed into him. "Hello, Swift," he said, his former anger dying inside him. "Thank God you're all still alive!"

"Professor Dubois!" the yellow pegasus said joyfully, smiling as the men backed away. "I'm so happy to see you again! And Blaze! You made it out too?"

"Y-yeah," Skyward Blaze said, looking stunned. "I... I guess we did."

"Oh, it's so good to see you all okay! Even you, Rock," she added, as the large brown stallion approached.

"Swift Wing. I guess I shouldn't be surprised you were a traitor."

"Oh, come off it," she snapped at him. "I'm just happy some of my friends have lived through the war." She turned back to Jacques. "That reminds me, how are Sunny and Emerald?"

Jacques stood up. "On that score, I think I can provide some measure of good news. They're both still alive."

Swift Wing let out a squee! as she spun around in midair. "That's such good news!"

"Well..." Jacques hesitated.

"...What?" Swift asked, her hooves now on the ground and her smile gone.

"Emerald joined the Resistance as a combat medic after the war start-"

"TRAITOR!"

"Shut your mouth, Rock, nopony cares anymore," Blaze said in a deadpan voice. "All most ponies want now is peace."

"As I was saying, Emerald joined the Resistance. He didn't have it in him to kill, so he signed on as a medic. His last letter said he's back in Maine, trying to help those who lose their homes in the war."

"Wouldn't they... you know, arrest all the ponies who stayed?"

"Oh, they interrogated all the ponies who refused to obey Celestia's commands to return to Equestria once she declared war," Jacques said, "but most of them were ultimately found to be innocent of any espionage, and after the Resistance escaped from Equestria, Emerald joined as soon as his hooves and wings would let him."

"Well, that's all good," Swift said with anxiety, "but you hesitated a moment ago."

Jacques allowed himself to breathe deeply three time before continuing. "Sunflower and Emerald were going to be married, but when news came that Rome was destroyed... I think it shattered her, that her people could stoop to that level. She's been... well, not a vegetable, but almost in some kind of depressive trance-like state ever since. It broke her heart when Emerald wrote to her that Bar Harbor was half burnt down by a Equestrian force that warped in to wreck the whole place."

Two years ago, 2048, Bar Harbor, Maine.

The beautiful beachfront houses of Bar Harbor burned, as did a couple of the naval vessels in the harbor... and numerous civilian craft, both pleasure yachts and fishing boats.

The 19th had been brought to the place on whatever trucks and vehicles that could be mustered. They'd arrived piecemeal, but at least they were now all into the fight.

Sergeant Dubois fired on an enemy soldier, a gray Guard unicorn stallion. For the first several shots, the M-22 refused to connect, a transparent shield blocking all bullets sent at it. However, a grenade blew up on the perimeter of the shield, which collapsed; the stallion fell within seconds.

Another beam of magic swept across the bay. Jacques silently thanked God that there were no alicorns here; apparently, a powerful unicorn had been responsible for teleporting the enemy force in. If someone like Celestia had been leading this force, the town would have been destroyed already, and probably all the men sent to try to save it.

Artillery shells fell on the enemy; some blew up against shield spells, others landed amongst enemy troops who had already been uncovered by earlier gunfire.

A few civilians who had been taking cover had tried to make it out. Their corpses lay in front of the platoon; some may have been killed accidentally by the National Guard, but most had been cut down by the bright blue enemy mage who was burning everything he could see, whether it was flesh or building or vehicle, and whose personal shield was still holding strong. Numerous people had been hit by conversion potions; they were all dead or too wounded to move now, either having committed suicide or being shot or stabbed when they attacked the men defending what had used to be their home town.

The harbor itself was a wreck; presumably, the enemy had come to destroy Bar Harbor's ability to continue constructing naval vessels, and they'd certainly done that. Bar Harbor had been built up, on it's non-idyllic edges, as a minor naval base between 2023 and the present date. That base wasn't going to be functioning for months, at the very least; more likely, probably not for an entire year.

For whatever reason, that destruction wasn't enough for them, and they had taken it upon themselves to wreck everything. Some potions had been used on the military defenders, and some men had committed suicide or had been shot out of mercy by fellows in their own unit rather than succumb to the mind rape and body change the potion would bring upon them. However, the enemy seemed to have relatively few potions compared to the reports of attacks on major cities. Their main focus seemed to be to destroy everything before they left.

A few Resistance ponies were there, among them Bright Spirit. Jacques had never seen him in the college where he had worked - he probably had never been there - but the orange-yellow unicorn stallion was giving as good as he was getting with magic, firing bolt after bolt from his horn at the enemy, and occasionally levitating rifles off of fallen soldiers and firing them off at the enemy until their magazines ran out. Another, Emerald, was trying to bandage the leg of a man screaming in pain off in a small alley to the left.

"They're gathering together!" one of the men shouted.

"They're about to leave!" Captain Reynolds yelled. "Give it to 'em while you can, boys!"

The 19th did its best, but plenty of the enemy managed to get back to their LZ, after which there was a bright white flash; after that, no ponies remained in the city except for members of the Resistance and dead and wounded the Equestrians either couldn't or wouldn't bring with them.

Jacques took out his canteen and began chugging down the water inside. It had not been long since he'd signed on with the National Guard in the hopes of defending his home state. It was now the third year of the war, with cities being subjected to attacks like this all over the globe. Cities and monuments had been burned to the ground, sometimes leaving almost nothing to indicate that anything had been there. A Civil War memorial statue in Bar Harbor had been systematically melted down until only a glassy mess remained, and no doubt worse had fallen upon Berlin, which had been obliterated in a massive attack not long ago.

"Did we win, Sarge?"

He stopped drinking and waved his hand, gesturing to the bay. "In terms of holding the field at the end... yes. In terms of actually stopping them... I think you can get the answer simply from looking for yourself, Jake."

"Cowards behind their shields. Without 'em..."

"But they have them," Jacques replied. "We have to deal with what is, Private."

"You see Kaleb? He looks bad."

"Yeah, I'll go and check up on him." He drained what was left in his canteen and began heading back into the town.

He found the previous spot, passing by the body of the gray unicorn his men had slain earlier, along with other fallen ponies... and men.

No, this was not a victory. Not really. Though the enemy had paid for what they had won.

He found the alley; Emerald was giving Private John Kaleb, the injured man from earlier, a drink from his medical canteen while getting ready to administer morphine.

"Yo, Prof," Emerald said as he approached. "He's hurt bad, but he'll live, if we can get him to a field hospital."

"Glad to hear it. Thanks, Emerald."

The green pegasus frowned, sticking a needle in Kaleb's arm; the man, clearly exhausted or too out of it already to care, did not protest or resist in anyway. "Never thought it'd come to this..."

"I didn't think they'd have the ability to teleport so far," Jacques said, looking again at the wrecked island and the ruined ships in the bay. "Or cause the kind of damage they did."

"Me neither, but..." the pegasus sighed. "Sunny... she's not doin' so well, man. She wanted to join the Resistance, an' seein' this, I don't blame 'er, but... ever since the war began, I feel like... well, she's been... crackin'. Like a diamond somepony stepped on too hard."

"She's still healthy, though?" Jacques asked, concerned.

"In body, yeah. Down below... well... I don't think we're gonna be holdin' a weddin' anytime soon."

"Sorry I couldn't be there when you got engaged."

"No worries, man. Especially not with... this." Emerald waved his hoof in the same way Jacques had done with Jake a little while ago. "But... she's... I think getting that last letter from her family started it, then all the dyin,' an' with a couple of her friends from school gettin' murdered by... our brothers," he said disgustedly, the term he used for Equestrian forces when he was furious with them. "I've been tryin' to keep her up, but I don't know how long I can keep it up."

Early 2050, Rome

It was gone.

Rome, and her people... were gone.

The Vatican, the Coliseum, the Castel Sant'Angelo, the Roman forum and Pantheon, the Circus Maximus, Saint Peter's Basilica, and so many other historic buildings, and everything else.

Gone.

All that was left of three million people, all that was left of some three thousand years of history... was a sea of blue glass.

Nothing was still standing. Nothing. Not even the slightest hint of a building had survived; not one melted brick or lump of what could have been a building... nothing.

All that stood were a few blue crystals, sticking up out of the glass as if they were some kind of flower.

"And I thought my heart was ripped out after the Statue of Liberty fell," he said softly. Other men nearby grunted in sympathy, or whispered their own sense of loss.

Although the Battle of New York City had been a victory, Shining Armor and some of his unicorns had melted Lady Liberty's legs, causing her to fall over into the water. How great a cry of dismay from those who had seen it! And yet that was nothing compared to this. At least some of New York was still standing, albeit some of it as ruins, and there was a Lady Liberty that could be fixed up eventually. There was even some wood left from the U.S.S. Constitution to rebuild the famous flagship of the US navy... even though it had been burned down to the waterline during an Equestrian attack against Boston.

There was nothing left here but echoes on the wind. Not even corpses or hints of corpses. Nothing.

He fell to his knees. How would Caesar, Pompey, Cicero and so many other Republican Senators have reacted if they had learned that this would be the fate of their city two thousand years in the future from where they had stood? Would Caesar have taken his own life before his assassins could take it for him?

And all the works of all those who had come after them... wiped out in an instant, by one weapon that was worse than an ICBM, which would have left something still standing, even as ruins.

There was no Roman legacy anymore, none but what existed in books... those not destroyed in Equestrian attacks, anyway.

He heard Bright Spirit curse from behind him as he caught glimpse of the city. Several Catholics in his platoon - Maine was a holdout for Catholics - fell to their knees and wept aloud at the sight. One tore his uniform with his bare hands and bellowed to the sky.

Jacques looked up a little. One of the crystal flowers stood just in front of him, as if to mock the civilization that had stood here by growing something new in its place.

A rage overtook him. He pulled out his bayonet and with a shout began to hack away at the thing, continuing to shout as he continued chipping off piece after piece until nothing remained but a flattened stump.

It wasn't enough. Nothing could take back what had happened here. Nothing.

Bayonet in his right hand, he sat there for a moment, not sure what to do. Sorrow swelled until he almost couldn't take it anymore.

Then he took the bayonet and began to carve a message into the glass. He was sure that most wouldn't see it, but so long as anyone, anyone, saw it at all, maybe they could begin to begin to grasp what had been here.

Hic jacet Romae. Here lies Rome.

Others took up their knives and bayonets and began to carve messages of their own into the glass.

Maybe future generations would have something to remember Rome and its history by...

"After that, the Crystal Empire was nuked. We were ferried over to southern China and later to Taiwan by plane to prepare for the invasion; weird that the Chinese were able to build a government where hardcore nationalists, democracy advocates, and communists could be elected and make it work, but they did and do, for now anyway. But after that, from what Emerald told me while he was on leave...

Mid 2050

"Sunny, it's me! I'm home!"

Emerald waited for a response after knocking on the door, but there was no forthcoming answer.

"Girl, it's me. Your boy Emerald. Come on, please let me in!"

Nothing. Not the coming sound of hooves, not snoring; he couldn't hear anything.

"Babe? Sunny, this ain't funny."

He twisted the door handle; to his surprise, it wasn't locked. He walked in.

He could see her head and neck from the back side of a couch, facing the opposite direction towards the TV.

"Sunny?"

He trotted over to her.

Sunflower was a wreck. Her mane was wild and untamed. Her face was covered in dried tears. She was breathing, yes, but she looked otherwise as if she'd been carved out of stone.

"Babe, it's me," he said, jumping onto the couch next to her.

Something dropped out of her hooves; a newspaper. Emerald snatched it up with his left wing.

ROME DESTROYED! MILLIONS DEAD! CITY FLATTENED!

What followed were a series of pictures, showing the glassy sea that had once been one of humanity's most significant cities.

"I... I..."

He dropped the paper as well as Sunflower spoke for the first time. "What?"

"I... I never knew... I always believed... even when... she declared war... that there was some good left in ponykind..."

She collapsed into his forelegs; if she was surprised he was here, she gave no sign of it.

He patted her head and mane softly. "I'm here now, babe. Don't worry."

"I... I..." She sniffed. "I always thought... there was something good left in our people," she said softly. "I always thought, even with the war, that ponies back home would have a limit to following what even she said..."

"I'm sorry too, babe. all those people... and their city... just... gone..."

"That's..." She sniffed again. "That's not the worst of it. I... I listened to the radio after reading it. Tuned into an Equestrian station." Her tears began again. "They... they were happy. They said it was a great victory, that they had destroyed two human religions... nothing for or even about the humans they'd killed... even though they must have known... C-C-C-Celestia said that this was a warning of worse to come i-if the humans don't stop fighting. C-C-Cadence even came on, said that this was what humanity deserved for fighting their... Oh Emerald!" She turned and hugged him hard.

He hugged her back, fighting back tears himself as he did.

"I always thought that some ponies wouldn't take something like this. B-b-but they're cheering it. They cheered on the radio after she announced its destruction... That was the worst... M-m-mom and D-dad... both support this... our people all support it..."

"Come on, babe, you know that's not true; there'd be no Resistance if it were."

She didn't answer. Maybe she just couldn't answer in her despair. Maybe she didn't need to; roughly 9 out of 10 ponies who had been in human lands had left just prior to the war.

But even so, the fact that some ponies, both here and in Equestria, opposed the genocide their home country was performing against this entire world was encouraging. Emerald looked up and through the window. The sun - Earth's sun, not bound whatsoever to the Princesses' will - shone through it.

"Babe... it'll turn out okay. I promise. And when this war's over, I won't leave your side for a moment."

"But..."

"I can't live without you in my life, girl," he said, continuing to embrace her. "And when this war's over, I promise, we'll raise our own foals here, along with the rest of the Resistance that lives in this state. We'll start a brand new world for them and those who follow, you'll see."

Sunflower made no response, but he thought - he hoped - he saw a flicker of hope in her eyes. It lasted only a second, but it was all it took to give him hope too.

"Poor Sunflower," Swift Wing said sadly. "She's going through so much. I'm so glad she has Emerald as her coltfriend; they're perfect for each other, and he's so dedicated to her."

"I agree, they're perfect for each other," Jacques said, "and I think that, in the end, Emerald will get through to her, especially now the war's over and we can start to go home. But, for now... Sunflower's a bit broken, and it'll take time for her to get it back together. She really did believe, through most of her life, that ponies were generally good, and loved her birth culture. To see it do... this, to the world she had begun to love as well as her own... I can't blame her. Poor thing."

There was yet another silence.

"Well, what happens now?" Blaze asked.

"Now... Now..." Jacques shook his head, trying to clear his thoughts. "Now, Celestia goes... somewhere to be treated while we wait for her to wake up. Then its her trial, and... well, given all the evidence the UN has been gathering, and the sheer number of witnesses, human and pony, they can call to the stand, I see no way of a guilty verdict being avoided. And I don't see any way for Celly to escape justice."

"You mean, face the firing squad," Swift said sorrowfully, and Jacques nodded. "I was wondering... couldn't they just turn her into a human, one without magic? Wouldn't that be fitting enough?"

"I guess you'd have to ask the judges if that's legal, but I don't think it'll happen; the people of the world are in too much pain, if I had to guess, for that to be acceptable to anyone. People have also suggested she be turned into a regular horse, also without magic, and be forced to live out the rest of her days on a horse ranch, but that's definitely not going to happen; it's a quiet retirement. Anyway, after the negotiations, the rebuilding starts. Cities get rebuilt, farms and roads repaired, and we try to live in the world that now is."

"Easy for you to say," Rock said. "You didn't live in a perfect world before the war."

"And why was it so perfect, Rock Hard? You act like the Equestria of old was this perfect paradise without any bad things happening, whether they come from tyrants, villains, from debt, or from bullying, and yet I've seen and heard evidence for all those things and more ever since I've stepped foot on this soil. The 101st Airborne saw it when they occupied Cloudsdale; The 82nd saw it when they took Las Pegasus. Anyone who has more in their mind than revenge can see that your society had flaws, just like ours. And when the world refused to bend to how you wanted it, the worst evils any human could commit came out in ponies as well. The whole 'better-than-you' attitude of Equestria towards Earth is sickening, and needs to die in order for peace to truly come." He looked up at the palace, just visible from here over the sky line. "It won't be long in coming."

Again, a silence.

Swift Wing finally replied, "How did your troops manage to land in Cloudsdale anyway? A temporary spell exists for pony hooves, but..."

"Ah, yes, that. A few clever ponies from the Resistance managed to alter a spell that pegasi employ today to keep their material things from falling through the clouds, and applied it to soldiers' boots and uniforms. Although the spell wasn't permanent on any sort of flesh or keratin, it's permanent on physical objects. Hence, humans literally standing and sitting on pony clouds."

A tank rumbled past them. It was an old Abrams M1A1... or rather, it had been an M1A1. It's normal 120mm gun had been replaced by a laser cannon. After the war had begun, a lot of old Cold War and post-Cold War tech had been upgraded; after all, Equestria had had no tank divisions of its own, or at least not until just before the invasion, and those were a century out of date. Russia's ancient fleet of Cold War tanks now all had laser cannons instead of projectile weapons. And that was just the really old stuff; some of the modern plasma tanks could unleash hot beams of pure destruction while being surrounded by strong energy shields and floating a few feet above ground. One of those passed by as well, humming instead of rumbling as the Abrams had.

"Do... Do you think we can do it?" Swift asked. "Make an age of peace between ponies and humans?"

"Only God knows for sure," Jacques said. "But I hold out hope it's possible."

"What about friendship and harmony?" Blaze asked.

"I think you'll get to keep those, or the non-violent versions of them; no sense in fixing things that aren't broken."

"And what are we supposed to do? Accept the same human technologies that ruined our land?" huffed Rock. "I'd rather pull a cart all my days rather than use one your machines."

"Go ahead. That's something no one's going to stop you from doing," Swift said.

Yet again, silence.

Jacques looked over at Pony Joe's shop. "My old students, I think I may know one thing that may help poor Sunflower."

"What's that?" Swift asked, as Jacques knelt down, drew out his backpack, and began to rummage around.

"A good photograph at Pony Joe's. I think sending her a photo of all of us will do her so good, as will the news of the war's end."

"Maybe... maybe when you're a professor again, we could go back to college?" Swift asked.

"Maybe. I don't know if they'll have any openings for me to go back to; they must have filled my vacancy with a new professor. But if I can't teach there, well, then, I'll try and find somewhere else." He found what he was looking for; a camera, one of the old ones that would print the photograph almost immediately. "Anyway, let's give our Sunny a good picture. Maybe we can help Emerald bring her old self back." He pulled out one more thing. "And Rock... if you still doubt what happened to Rome..."

He threw a set of square photographs over to the brown stallion, who picked them up and recoiled for a second at the sight of Rome's non-existence, at the dead, at the sight of a Newfoal mom screaming at her children, and more.

So much more.

The rest of them walked into Pony Joe's.

Two weeks later

Emerald wrapped his right wing around Sunflower. It had been about nine days since the Twilight Sparkle had told the world what her former mentor had done. Even after Rome and Mecca were blasted off the face of the Earth, he would never have believed their Princess would leave every other race on their home planet to die.

He swore under his breath, knowing Sunflower wouldn't pay any attention. He'd been making progress; Sunflower had even begun to make her own meals again, humming softly as she did so.

But since it came out that the witch had allowed their entire entire former home to die... she'd fallen back into the pit he'd just started to pull her out of.

Now he just felt like crying too. He didn't know what to do, not anymore.

He scarcely heard the mail truck pull up to the house. He listened, as if with another's pair of ears, as the mailman put something in Sunflower's mailbox, then left.

I should probably get that, shouldn't I? Don't want her to lose the house 'cos she didn't pay some bills...

He trotted to the door, opened it, and went over to the mailbox.

"Junk mail, junk mail, junk mail... really junk mail," he droned. "Huh, no bi- what's this?"

It was a normal envelope, not much different from what the post would have delivered in Equestria. It wasn't a bill, that was for sure.

"To... Sunflower at yadaydayada... From tha Prof!"' he said, surprised.

He trotted back inside and kicked the door closed. "Babe, got us a letter from the Prof."

Sunflower's head simply jerked, as if nothing mattered anymore.

Sighing, Emerald flew over to the couch, again wrapping his right wing around his girlfriend as he opened the envelope with his teeth and then pulled out the letter and photograph that were in it.

Dear Sunflower (and Emerald, if you're there),

We've won the war. Well, by the time this gets here, you'll know that already. But we did it. No longer do humans have to worry about being turned into mindless machines, nor do ponies have to fear the ESS and all its horrors (and given that my unit helped to liberate a camp where they worked dissident inmates all too hard, I think I know something of those) No more war, at least not for now.

I know you're hurting. Now that the war's over and done with, the terms Equestria will have to abide by will have come. I know it's terrible, upon everything else you've endured to this point. So was the fighting to get there.

Many of my old students... they've died or been turned in this war. Others are hurt. Others, no doubt, are feeling horrified by the nightmare we've just managed to quell. Recovery won't just be physical, but you know that already if nothing else. I personally think a large part of me is going to feel emotionally numb for a long time.

At least you and Emerald are still alive. That's worth something in a life. I also know that you can pull it together. You were strong on that last day when you parted ways with Skyward Blaze, Rock Head, and Swift Wing. I know you can rebuild on the inside, especially with a guy like Emerald at your side. He'll make a fine husband for you in time, if only you can find the strength to go on.

Speaking of old friends, I've left a photograph for you and Emerald. I hope you enjoy it, and I hope to see you again when the 19th's done its shift of occupation.

Sincerely, your old professor of history,

Jacques Dubois, Lieutenant of the 19th Maine National Guard.

Emerald held the letter in his left wing as he picked up the photograph. He blinked upon realizing what was in it.

"Girl, look! Look at this!"

Sunflower turned her head slowly to look.

Professor Dubois, in his combat uniform, stood, his black hair visible with his helmet removed; with his right hand, he held a small wooden cross, while with his left he formed a "V" sign out of his first two fingers. Skyward Blaze was right in front of him, looking nervous, but managing a smile. Swift Wing's face was berserk with sheer joy.

Toward the back, Pony Joe waved a hoof toward the camera; his horn was lit, indicating that he was the one holding up the camera. In front of the counter, though not behind it as Pony Joe was, stood Rock Hard. He wasn't smiling; he wasn't sneering. He didn't look angry. His old hateful arrogance was scarcely visible any more. It looked as if he'd tried to sneak into the photograph and then sneak out again. To be frank, he looked embarrassed and disenchanted. Maybe he'd given up on his old bigotry, maybe not.

But even so, four of the five faces in the photo were smiling. And they had all lived through the war. That was enough.

For the first time since Twilight Sparkle's speech, Sunflower smiled. Seeing that, Emerald smiled too, and hugged her even closer to him.

A bright new day was dawning, and it was time for peace.

Author's Note

*To be fair, this line comes from Ace Combat 04.

** Strategic Air Command.

Sorry for those expecting me to upgrade my old stories; I've been writing this one pretty quickly, as the inspiration hit me.

I... don't know what to feel about this story. I got inspiration for this after reading Rated Ponystar's Negotiationsverse and zelkova48's Choice. Honestly, I worry that I might supporting a series that has a lot of sexual stuff in it (even though that promotion is not my intention), and I don't know how the guys who approve the stories will take some of the religious and political references. But I wanted to introduce some positivity into the series, as well as try to tug away from some of the stuff I didn't necessarily approve of.

I also worry about my intentions for even writing this. Some part of me is hoping to leave some mark on the Negotiationsverse, as I've just said. But I know that people are going to read this. I know some of them will probably like it, even if it is a bit back and forth with all the flashbacks. I know that likely, I'll be gaining pride from writing this, and trying to add to someone else's storyline, even if he's given his permission to other people, like the aforementioned zelkova48.

I tug back and forth over whether or not to release it. For one thing, I've put a lot of passion and work into it, and like I said, I've felt inspired as an author as I haven't felt since I wrote "Defeated." But as much as I don't like the sexual stuff in some of the Negotiations Stories (namely Future and Warfare), I worry that people will read those if I post this. I've planned to write a story where a suicidal pegasus from this universe literally meets God, a story called "Purpose," but again, I don't know whether to even start writing, given I don't know if I'd be drawing people to things I believe are bad, or drawing them away from those things to that I believe is good without throwing the baby out with the bathwater, so to speak.