Ministry Row,

And Royal Canterlot Armory,

Canterlot,

Central Equestria

The teal unicorn adjusted the polished gold and onyx brooch that served as the clasp for her ivory cloak. She had only been bestowed the swirling visage of a mingling sun and crescent moon encircled by olive branches, which was the official crest of the Ministry of Foreign Affairs, less than a month ago. It had been the culmination of five years spent studying at the Manehattan University’s School of International and Political Affairs, which also included two summers serving as an intern at the Griffon Consulate in Manehattan. Now, Autumn Brisk finally found herself as one of the newest inductees into the illustrious ministry which handled all of Equestria’s interactions with the other races of the world.

It had taken the young unicorn mare by no considerable amount of surprise that she should be summoned to the actual headquarters for the ministry in Canterlot. She had only just started her duties serving as a minor aide to one of the clerks handling correspondence from the Equestrian Embassy in Griffonstone when she received the invitation to meet with Earl Bitter Creek personally!

Though she had certainly strived to excel in all of her studies and duties, Autumn Brisk had not thought that her meager accomplishments thus far could possibly have warranted that level of attention quite yet. Especially not without a patron.

That wasn’t to say that the mare was not well-bred. She was a member of one of the wealthier families of Manehattan―albeit a minor one―and thus was no stranger to the politics of high society and government. There were two ways to get ahead if one was intent on pursuing ministry work: a stupendously prestigious career brimming with accomplishment and renown that got them noticed by one of the realm’s princesses, or, more commonly, being related to nobility.

Unfortunately for her, according to the best genealogical research that money could buy, Autumn Brisk had no close ties to the Peerage by either blood or marriage; and the few distant ties by marriage that existed were actually best not mentioned, in many cases. So that was right out.

Short of some not-so-minor miracle that brought her actions to the attention of the Princesses Themselves, the mare knew that she would encounter a glass ceiling relatively early on in her career. She would never become an ambassador, or even a consul. At best, she could hope to be the secretary to a member of an ambassador’s staff abroad.

Though, there was certainly little that might stop her from later marrying into a social position with better political leverage. If she could get her hooves on a son of a minor noble or, better, a ranking member of the ministry, that could give her the clout that she’d need to leverage a worthwhile promotion.

She had done a little research along those lines, actually, and had compiled a shortlist in case she ever encountered such a candidate socially. Though she had spent much more time mining what information she could get her hooves on regarding the marital statuses of the ponies currently running the Griffonstone Mission. The Equestrian ambassador serving there was a little older―somewhere just north of twice Autumn's own age―but he was good looking enough. She had yet to learn what his specific tastes in mares were, but perhaps if she could arrange a trip out to the griffon lands and ‘bump into him’, she could―

“The earl will see you now,” an older unicorn stallion’s announcement intruded abruptly into the mare’s thoughts, grabbing her attention.

Her telekinesis made a final adjustment to her garments and the teal mare rose to her hooves, inclining her head slightly at the minister’s chief steward. “Thank you,” she said as she straightened her shoulders and primly stepped through the open door into the office of the noble who served as the head of the Equestrian Ministry of Foreign Affairs.

The room was suitably opulent for a pony who was both an intermediate noble and the pony in charge of an entire government bureau. Finely embroidered drapes with gold and silver stitching framed the large windows which rose nearly all the way to the high marble ceiling. Paintings on the subject of pivotal moments in Equestrian history―all created by artists of great renown―hung from the walls. In the middle of the spacious office sat a massive oak desk bearing carved reliefs of ponies supplicating themselves before a pair of resplendent alicorns.

Behind that desk sat the pony that had summoned her, Alabaster Fetlock, the Fourth Earl of Bitter Creek. In Autumn’s own estimation, he was a rather fine example of the Equestrian nobility―at least where a young mare’s fancies might turn to notions of being swept away by a dashing stallion of good breeding, anyway. The teal mare reminded herself that he was―unfortunately―already married, and that she needed to be more than a mere mistress if she wanted to attain the ambitious stations she was ultimately after.

She strode serenely to stand in front of his desk and bowed her head respectfully. “My Lord,” she looked back up, meeting his steely gaze, “you wished to see me?”

The white unicorn stallion inclined his own head in recognition of the respect paid to his position and then motioned for his visitor to be seated in one of the sumptuously cushioned chairs facing his desk. “Indeed. Please, Miss Brisk, do have a seat. The two of us have much to discuss.”

It took a great deal of effort to keep the stark surprise off of her face. Autumn Brisk could genuinely think of nothing that the earl might possibly have to discuss with her. She was so new to the ministry's service that a faint odor of dye used to color her cloak still clung to the fabric, for Celestia’s sake!

“Oh, My Lord?” Was all that she permitted herself to say, keeping very strict control of her features so that she looked only appreciatively curious, and not the all out baffled that she truly felt inside.

“I have been looking over your file, with great interest,” the stallion said, lightly tapping a small dossier sitting on his desk, which Autumn Brisk took to have been some variation of her personnel record. Its presence, and the notable thinness of the folder in question, only served to heighten the teal unicorn mare’s confusion as to where this conversation could possibly be going. “You received considerable praise from your professors at the university.”

Autumn Brisk gave a polite nod. That was true enough, and the product of a lot of hard work that had been put in on her part. Well, except for whatever 'glowing review' may have been provided by her Zebrian teacher regarding her linguistic aptitude. Try though she had, Autumn had simply been unable to grasp the language of Equestria’s striped neighbors. Her high marks in that particular class had been the product of a very...different sort of ‘oral exam’.

That minor indignity had been a small price to pay to keep her overall scholastic performance impressively high. Besides, her ambition throughout all of her studies had been to procure a station in the griffon lands, not the zebra territories. Her Grishian was quite superb, in fact, and she had actually been commended by the staff at the Griffon Mission in Manehattan on her fluency. She had even been proficient enough to correct spelling and grammatical errors in the griffons' own correspondence!

“I have also noted,” the earl continued, “a couple of commendations from the staff at the Manehattan branch of the Griffon Embassy. Quite impressive for a ‘mere intern’. You are a pony who bears watching, Miss Brisk.” Despite herself, the mare felt her cheeks flush beneath the praise from her ministry's head. “And to that end, I have come up with an assignment that should help your career along.”

The unicorn mare finally lost her tenuous grip on her composure, her eyes growing wide and her jaw falling slack before she even realized what she was doing. The stallion in charge of the entire Ministry of Foreign Affairs wanted to help a veritable nopony like her?! That didn’t happen! It...it just didn’t happen!

Suddenly, Autumn Brisk’s surprise was replaced by a very different feeling: trepidation. She could think of one reason the earl might be taking such a keen, personal, interest in her. While she had been confident that she could count on the discretion of her Zebrian professor where the integrity of her academic transcript was concerned―since he had far more to lose by coming forward than she did―Autumn now had to wonder if her old teacher hadn’t been...less than circumspect where his private interactions with his peers were concerned.

Could word have reached the earl about her willingness to ‘work closely’ with ponies she felt could help her advance?

Autumn Brisk’s mind began to work very quickly as she hastily considered her options if that was how this played out. However, before she was able to get too far along that line of thinking, the earl continued.

“I’m appointing you as the envoy for a goodwill mission to the Saddle Arabian village of Gallopoli,” the stallion announced, smiling pleasantly at the teal mare. “I realize that your aspirations fall with our winged neighbors to the east, but I do strongly urge you to take this posting regardless.”

He folded his hooves together and propped his chin up upon them as he leaned forward. “What I’m about to tell you is confidential. Do you understand?” Autumn Brisk nodded numbly, still struggling to come to grips with what was happening. “The Griffons are making overtures to the Saddle Arabian Sultanate in order to procure a more lucrative trade and tariff agreement. This goodwill mission will give you the exposure to the Arabian culture you’ll need to make yourself an invaluable asset in Griffonstone.

“Think of it as a...brief―but beneficial!―detour on your way to the career that you’ve been dreaming of for quite some time,” the stallion smiled pleasantly.

It took the teal mare several seconds to recover from her shock and rediscover the ability to speak once more. When she did, she was rather embarrassed to find herself tripping over herself to express her gratitude to the earl. “My Lord, I don’t know what to say! I’m not sure that there would be a way that I could ever sufficiently express my gratitude to you for offering me this opportunity.”

He was correct in his assessment that this tasking would not have been at the top of her list of choices when it came to the postings that she would have desired. It was nothing against the residents of the arid western reaches of the continent. The climate itself, on the other hoof...Autumn Brisk was not a mare who took well to the heat, no matter how dry others might insist that it may be. However, if what the earl had revealed to her was true―and she didn’t dare question the information's accuracy, given the source―then this was clearly a posting that it was in her best interests to take.

A goodwill mission like this would afford her the chance to get ‘down and dirty’ with many of the Saddle Arabian towns closer to the Equestrian border. She would get a first-hoof acquaintance with their culture, traditions, taboos, and their negotiating tactics. Armed with knowledge like that, she would indeed become a valuable resource for the Griffons to use once she received a posting at the Equestrian Mission in their capital. If she could manage to make herself part of the Griffon negotiating team, that would also give her an inside track on its progress that she could relate to her superiors back here in the Ministry.

Best of all, this was a posting being passed on to her by the ministry head himself! If she excelled in this, and earned his favor and respect, then Autumn Brisk could very well find herself with a genuine patron in the Equestrian Peerage. She might not have to marry into the posting she wanted after all! There was still a nagging little concern that she might find herself becoming somepony’s mistress in Court, but as long as she got the job she wanted…

“I’m hoping that you’ll start by first accepting a sincere apology from myself,” the ivory stallion said, snapping the younger mare out of her reverie.

“An apology, My Lord? Whatever for?”

He nodded, offering her a wry smirk. “I’m afraid that the timetable for this posting is going to be somewhat unorthodox. We usually strive to ensure our envoys receive months of notice, in order to properly prepare themselves for their missions,” he bowed his head and shook it ruefully. “Unfortunately, political forces at work within the Peerage have forced me to accelerate matters rather drastically.”

“In what way, My Lord?”

“I’m afraid that you will be required to leave in three days, if you accept this posting.”

Once again Autumn Brisk was reduced to a slack-jawed mess. Three days?! That was a patently absurd amount of time to properly prepare for something like this! She didn’t know anything about the language, or the geography―sweet Celestia, she didn’t even know the name of the current Sultan! How was she expected to be able to perform a decent job if she had little more than a weekend to prepare?! She’d be spending most of those days packing and making arrangements for her life here in Equestria to be effectively put on hold while she was away, which meant that the only preparation time that she was realistically going to get was during the trip there. That would take, what? Two days by train, at the most?

“My Lord, surely you must be―three days is―” the unicorn mare sputtered, trying to find a sufficiently polite way to inform the earl in charge of her career how stupendously stupid the notion was that she could be ready by then. The smart thing for her to do was turn down the offer, honestly. Of course, it was hardly going to help her career very much if her first act as a Royal Envoy was to turn down an assignment―being offered to her by the head of the ministry himself no less―as simple and mundane as a goodwill tour in an allied nation. She might as well just turn in her cloak and broach right here and now!

Not that crashing and burning the moment she crossed the Saddle Arabian border because she confused the word for ‘hello’ with ‘roadapple’ would do much to propel her career to the heights that she hoped to achieve…

“It is ridiculous,” the earl supplied for her, flashing the mare a mirthless smirk. “Trust me, Miss Brisk, you’re not thinking anything that I haven’t already expressed to my fellow Peers―albeit in sufficiently inoffensive terms, of course.

“But that hasn’t dissuaded them from insisting on being utter morons,” he added, winking at the unicorn sitting across from him. Autumn Brisk relaxed considerably once she heard the Earl verbally sum up the thoughts flowing through her own head. She wasn’t nearly crass enough to use similar language in his presence to describe nobles of the realm, of course. A not insignificant aspect of her duties was founded upon the notion of using only the most inoffensive language possible in any situation, after all.

The Minister then sighed. “That doesn’t change the facts, of course. I know that three days is an unworkable timeline. However,” he held up a hoof, “if somepony could pull this off, not only would it stick in the craw of my political rivals and indebt me and my office to whomever did so...” he held the mare’s gaze with a knowing look, “...it would also forever cement the record of that individual as a pony who could work miracles!

“Such a capable envoy would have their choice of postings anywhere in the known world. I can guarantee that.”

The Earl of Bitter Creek was a credit to his Ministry, Autumn Brisk thought as she felt a warm tingling sensation run up her spine. He knew exactly what to tempt her with to take this offer. He wasn’t wrong either, of course. The bragging rights if she actually managed to finish this goodwill mission without falling flat on her face in the opening hours would absolutely allow her the opportunity to effectively write her own ticket in the Ministry.

Of course, “...But if I fail…” she tentatively ventured, nibbling at her lip.

The Earl waved a dismissive hoof and leaned back in his chair, appearing to be not the least bit concerned by the notion. “If an envoy fresh to the ministry, sent out on her first assignment with little more time to prepare than it takes to book a trip on an airship, flubs something as inconsequential as a routine goodwill mission to an already close ally?” He snorted. “Nopony would even notice. Why...I imagine the ministry wouldn't even bother to make a note of it in the envoy's file when they got back...”

Autumn Brisk blinked in surprise. Had the earl just...offered to fudge her official record for her? Admittedly, he had made some rather valid points. There was no way that she could possibly fail at this assignment spectacularly enough to actually damage Arabian-Equestrian relations. At worst, she’d just make a fool of herself and earn the personal ire of whatever locals she managed to irritate. It wasn’t like anything she might do would risk starting a war!

Still, it piqued her curiosity to hear that he’d be willing to effectively lie for her benefit. Enough to make her a little suspicious, honestly. “Not to sound ungrateful, My Lord,” the mare began, choosing her words carefully. It would not do to offend the earl, after all. Not when he was already offering to be so generous with her. “But I wouldn’t want the ministry to put its integrity at risk for somepony as unimportant as myself over a trivial matter such as this.”

The Earl smiled. “On the contrary, it would be the least that the ministry could do.” He cleared his throat and straightened himself up slightly. “Miss Brisk, I am going to speak candidly for the next few minutes. Nothing that I say is to leave this room. Do you understand?” The mare hesitated, but then nodded slowly. “Good. The fact is, Miss Brisk, that there are forces moving within the Peerage seeking to unseat me as Their Majesties’ Minister of Foreign Affairs. They’ve orchestrated this untenable mission as just one more step in their plot to do so. They are hoping that I am unable to find an envoy to fill the post, and let it fall through my grasp.

“If they succeed at it this first time, they will then work to ensure that I find myself with even more short timetables like this one to work with. As one after another continues to slip by, and postings go unfilled, they will use those failures to build a portfolio to present to Princesses Celestia and Luna in order to pressure them into relieving me, and elevating one of their friends to this office.

“While I would never speak directly to the possible motives of my noble peers,” the earl went on, “it is not my belief that ponies who would sink to such levels of dishonesty seek this office with the intent to manage it faithfully. Nopony knows better than I the opportunities the Ministry of Foreign Affairs offers for an individual who might be inclined to...indulge themselves." He favored Autumn Brisk with a knowing look. "As the official head of every Mission and Embassy of Equestria abroad, I am routinely propositioned by foreign dignitaries with offerings of wealth and pleasures in exchange for granting them preferential treatment by our government. There is a veritable international 'bidding war' going on behind the scenes in order to gain either the perceived favor of our princesses, or the very tangible benefits of more favorable tariff and trade agreements, Miss Brisk. It takes a pony of exceptional moral character to maintain both their own integrity, and especially the integrity of Their Majesties' government, in the face of such temptations.

“Now, I certainly make no claims to perfection,” the earl emphasized, a slight smirk tugging at his lip as he eyed the mare sitting across from him. “I will even admit that I may have…slipped a time or two in my early years―minorly, I assure you. However, I like to think that I’ve maintained the dignity of this office well enough without selling off too many state secrets.” He again winked at the mare, who finally allowed herself an uneasy smile of her own at the joke.

“I tell you this so that you can appreciate the position that I’m in, and how sincere I am that I will make every effort within my power to ensure that you suffer no stain on your career should you fail in a task which has been specifically designed by malignant forces to create failure. You would not only be serving the ministry, but you would also be doing me a great personal favor by accepting this posting; and my gratitude will be appropriately repaid to you in the future, I assure you.”

Autumn Brisk sat in silence, digesting what the earl had just told her. She was well aware of the sorts of machinations that went on behind the scenes in the Royal Court. It was entirely conceivable that the Earl of Bitter Creek was the target of some sort of play for power by a faction of other nobles seeking to elevate their own standing in the Court. If that was the case, then he was likely in earnest about protecting her from any stigma that an early―and very minor―failure in her career might garner. Certainly it wouldn’t hurt to have such a powerful pony in her corner when it came time to picking appointments that she wanted.

She looked across the table at the unicorn stallion. “My Lord, it would be my privilege to assist the ministry by taking on this posting.”

The earl relaxed visibly. “Miss Brisk, I cannot express to you just how grateful the ministry―and myself―are to hear you say that.” He stood up and trotted around the table, enticing the teal mare out of her own seat. “And I will not take up any more of your precious time by gushing further. My steward will provide you with your dossier, which contains all the information that you’ll need for your assignment. I have even taken the liberty of adding an additional brief outline of the essential elements of your duties so that you know what cannot be overlooked, as I am well aware that you won’t have time to get everything right with such short notice.

“Your escorts for this mission have been placed on standby, and their liaison will be contacting you first thing in the morning.” The earl led her towards the exit. “Again, you have my eternal gratitude, Miss Brisk. Please inform me, personally, the moment that you return. I also encourage you to have a list prepared of all of the ways in which you would like myself and the ministry to express that gratitude,” the stallion flashed her a winning smile and a final wink as the door opened.

“And I thank you for allowing me to be of service to Their Highnesses, My Lord,” the unicorn mare said with a bow of her head. “I will endeavor to salvage this assignment, if such a thing can be accomplished by any mortal mare.” She turned now, and trotted out the door, which closed behind her.

Once the teal unicorn envoy was out of sight, the Earl’s smile melted away. He turned back towards the interior of his office and walked over to the decanter of whiskey and the collection of sniffers that were typically reserved for entertaining his more esteemed guests. The delicately formed vessel of liquor floated into the air and poured out a serving of its contents before alighting back into its proper place.

Curious, it was, how closely a talent for negotiating aligned with lying. On a good day, he could sell snow to a yak. In another life, had he not been born into the nobility and afforded the opportunity to attain a ministerial office, Alabaster was fairly confident that he’d have been able to make a quite comfortable living as a grifter, swindling the unwary out of their bits and property.

Today, for example, he had just talked a mare into walking happily to her own death; and she had thanked him for it.

Alabaster Fetlock’s horn glowed as he retrieved the full sniffer and tossed it back. The potent alcohol scalded his throat like the flames of tartarus. He let out a quiet cough and then and sighed. “A shame to waste such potential.” He wandered over to the towering windows at the back of his office which overlooked the palace proper. “But...the future glory of Equestria demands sacrifices of us all...”

It was not often that she was invited to the palace in Equestria’s capital city of Canterlot. Indeed, Corsair smirked, until today, she had never before been invited to the palace grounds. She had been taken on an orientation flight or two near the castle’s spires during her days as a youthful lieutenant fresh out of Officer Training School; but never inside for a proper tour. It was unfortunate that her premiere admittance into the heart of her nation’s government, and the home of the Royal Sisters, should be marred by the circumstances surrounding the visit.

Corsair had been on quite a few ‘goodwill’ missions along the borders of Equestria during her years of service in the nation's Frontier Corps. Not all of those tours had been while serving in a direct command position, but she had always been placed within their overall leadership staff. In all of that time, she could not recall one instance in which she or her commander at the time had ever been summoned by a general for a personal briefing on their mission. This very nearly amounted to a breach of protocol, as far as she could tell.

What should have happened was that she should have been getting her mission briefing from her immediate superior, Major Gladius. If he was otherwise occupied, then perhaps the regimental commander, Colonel Storm Breaker. If even the colonel didn't have the time to spare for a briefing, then she'd have been summoned to speak with one of General Manipul's staff officers. If, somehow, under Celestia's golden sun, every one of the general's staff was too occupied to spare fifteen minutes to give her a formal briefing...

...Then Corsair could only assume that meant that Equestria was actively being invaded, because only a desperate fight for the princedom's very survival would have explained why absolutely none of those officers apparently had any time to spare to brief a company commander they'd specifically recalled back to Canterlot to be briefed on a new assignment.

The bottom line was that: generals didn't brief captains. It just didn't happen.

And that was just one of the many incongruities that Vought Corsair was wrestling with about this mission.

Her company's departure was due to happen in mere days, according to the missive she'd received in Little Buck, and she had yet to even be provided with the name of the envoy that they would be escorting. Normally, she would have been afforded the chance to meet with the envoy and sit down to work out between the two of them how their respective missions and duties would be woven together so that nopony’s hooves were trod on needlessly.

As things stood to go right now, with so much being thrown together at the last minute, Corsair would have been willing to wager the sum total of her eventual pension that this whole affair would very quickly devolve into a diamond dog’s dinner of a mess. That was bad enough, as far as the pegasus commander was concerned. What was going to be worse was that when things did invariably go sideways, and hooves were being leveled at the pony who was ultimately to blame, it was going to come down to deciding between herself, and whatever noble’s relative was being assigned as the envoy.

No self-respecting member of the Peerage was going to sit idly by and let any relative of theirs get the family name dragged through the mud and the muck in the fallout. Certainly not when there was a readily available 'low-born' scapegoat. That meant that the yeoman officer with no prominent family to speak of would be saddled with the manticore’s share of the blame for the inevitable disaster. If Corsair was lucky, she wouldn’t be forced into early retirement, and could look forward to spending the rest of her career in the Royal Equestrian Cavalry writing memos for a brigadier somewhere remote and forgotten.

If things went badly enough though, she might find herself defrocked completely.

This meeting certainly wasn’t doing anything to help assuage her concerns. Her mind was working hard to fathom out a reason that the general in charge of the whole of the Frontier Corps needed to give her a personal briefing on what was an otherwise routine operation―the truncated timetable notwithstanding.

Captain Corsair walked primly across the parade grounds of the palace, heading for the Royal Canterlot Armory’s front entrance. It was a bit of a misnomer these days. Once upon a time, in the early days of the palace’s construction, this wing of the castle had indeed been the repository of the arms and barding utilized by the Royal Guard. As the Guard's responsibilities―and their number―grew, the need for a much larger barracks and armory became clear. A new detached building was built near the palace proper to serve that purpose, and the vacated wing of the castle was converted to serve as the administrative center of the nation's military. Now it was almost exclusively populated by the Cavalry’s generals and their staffs.

Just before she entered, the pegasus mare paused and made one final effort to straighten and smooth out her uniform. She had walked most of the way here in order to keep the abuses that flight so frequently inflicted on dress clothing to a minimum. It wasn’t that Corsair was a particularly vain pony when it came to things like that. In point of fact, she wasn’t much of a fan of the cut of dress uniforms, as they offered very little in the way of functionality. They didn’t even have real pockets, for Celestia’s sake!

However, if she was going to find herself in the presence of her commanding general in a few short minutes, she supposed that leaving as good an impression as was possible was called for. If not for her own benefit, then for how her composure and professionalism would reflect on her own immediate superior officer. She generally liked Major Gladius, and didn’t want him to catch any grief because of something that she did.

Finding herself as satisfied as she was likely to be with how her white and gold dress uniform hung around her, Corsair finally stepped inside. Officers and senior non-coms milled around the large foyer of the Armory. The air hummed with the background din of mingled conversations that covered every conceivable topic from weapon production quotas, to personnel assignments, to supply logistics.

Ah, paperwork; the lifeblood of the Cavalry! The mare chuckled quietly to herself as she trotted through the crowd of ponies on her way to her destination. Her amber gaze darted to signs and placards along the walls which served to orient and direct visitors. They guide her to the upper corridors of the old armory where the offices dedicated to the managing of Equestria’s Frontier Corps were located. From there, it was a simple matter to locate the office being utilized by the corps' commanding officer, Brigadier General Maniple.

She took another breath, standing outside the sturdy oak door. It wasn’t her nerves that she was working to rein in. Rather, she was endeavoring to keep her temper under control. There was a great deal that frustrated her about the current situation, but the general’s office wasn’t the place to vent her irritation. For the duration of this briefing, she needed to remain impassive and respectful.

No matter how much of an absolute ass Maniple was.

Captain Corsair lifted her hoof and rapped it soundly on the portal. “Enter!” came a gruff reply almost immediately. She stepped through the door and found herself standing in a little antechamber just outside of the general’s true office. Seated at a desk was an earth pony stallion wearing a golden colonel’s sash across his own alabaster dress uniform. He glanced up from the forms that he was filling out and cast his appraising gaze over the new arrival. “Captain Corsair?”

The pegasus mare snapped to attention and saluted. “Reporting as ordered, sir!”

The stallion grunted and nodded his head in the direction of the doorway at the other end of the small chamber. “The general’s ready for you, captain. Go on in.”

Corsair suppressed a grimace as she noted that her salute had not been returned. She held her own for a heartbeat longer before dropping it. “Yes, sir!” She turned sharply on her hooves and slipped through the door to the general’s personal office.

The auburn earth pony who commanded the Frontier Corps was leaning back in his chair, reading over a sheaf of papers clutched in his hooves. He peered up at his visitor, his expression initially one of annoyance at being interrupted. Upon recognizing who the new arrival must be, he put down the reports that he’d been reading and sat up a little straighter in his chair. “Captain Corsair, I presume?”

Once again the indigo mare snapped smartly to attention and saluted. “Yes, sir! Reporting as ordered, general!”

This time her salute was reciprocated. “At ease, captain.” While she dropped her salute, Corsair remained at rigid attention. She wasn’t about to let herself get too relaxed in the general’s presence. “I’m glad you could make time for this meeting. I realize that your schedule is pretty tight right now.” To the mare’s own surprise, she managed not to let the derisive snort threatening to burst out of her nose escape. He was speaking as though he hadn’t had a hoof in creating that ‘tight’ schedule.

“I invited you here to offer my personal apologies for what’s happening to you, Captain,” the stallion continued, “somepony dropped the ball. I won’t bother to name names, because, ultimately, the Frontier Corps is my responsibility, and thus the circumstances surrounding the current situation are also my responsibility. You just have the unenviable position of being the low pony on the totem pole that’s going to have to step in this particular roadapple, if you’ll pardon my frankness.”

Corsair’s amber eyes widened slightly in surprise at the general officer’s frank admission. She had certainly not expected anything of the sort, given what she had heard of Maniple from other officers who had met and dealt with the stallion. He must have recognized her surprise because the general afforded himself a wry smirk.

“There’s no denying the truth here, Captain: you’re getting the crop on this assignment. I’m not going to sit here and try to tell you anything different than you already know. The Peerage got a wild hair up their posteriors and, like always, it’s up to the Cavalry to sort things out.

“These are your official orders," he said, sliding over a think folder towards the pegasus. Corsair collected it in her wing and began to review the file, "Honestly, there’s not much there that’s out of the ordinary. You will escort the envoy to the Saddle Arabian town of Gallopoli. They’re undertaking a construction project there, a curtain wall to help them deal with salamander incursions.” The general shrugged. “My understanding is that they’re some kind of fire breathing lizard thing―look a lot like wingless dragons.

“The local Arabian militias are stretched rather thin, so your primary job will be to protect the workers,” he nodded his head towards the folder. “What little information we have on salamanders will be in there. It’s not much, I’m afraid.

"There's also some other information in there about your 'policing powers'." At Corsairs arched brow, the general elaborated. "I know that in Equestria the cavalry doesn't do civilian law enforcement," he acknowledged with a nod. "But Saddle Arabia isn't Equestria. They don't have 'police forces' there. Not like we know them. Their civil law enforcement exists as an arm of their military which, like I said, is stretched thin.

"You'll be expected to help keep the peace in the town, and conduct customs inspections of the traders coming and going. It's all there in the file," the earth pony gestured once more to the folder Corsair was holding.

The mare flipped through a few more of the pages, giving them a cursory look, hiding the frown that was threatening to crease her muzzle. Her ponies weren't trained to handle civil matters. They were monster and bandit hunters, not cops. The salamanders they could deal with easily enough, but smugglers? No help for it though, Corsair supposed. "Anything in particular my ponies should be looking for in the way of contraband?"

"Glitterdust," the general responded with a firm nod. "We've been seeing a lot more of it in Equestria, and we're pretty sure it's coming though Saddle Arabia. Those drug runners are a crafty lot, so you'll want to make sure your ponies are exceptional thorough with their searches." Another acknowledging nod from the pegasus.

“Your company will remain on site until the wall is completed, and then return to Equestria. Hence why we couldn’t give you a definitive date on the length of the assignment. However long you’ll be there is squarely in the hooves of the Arabian construction crews.” The general offered up an apologetic shrug. “All we can do is hope that they work swiftly and get you back home to Equestria soon.”

“I understand, General,” in all, Corsair was forced to admit that the duty wasn’t as bad as it could have been. She hoped that there was a substantial section in her orders covering exactly what these ‘salamanders’ were capable of and how to fight them. She wasn’t an expert on the sorts of threats that other nations had to deal with. At worst, she could ask for advice from the locals, who would doubtlessly know a thing or two that would help her small company.

She was starting to regret having left so many of her ponies back in Little Buck though. She would have preferred to have every hoof available to her if they were going to be expected to fight creatures that they’d never seen before. The more margin for error that she could allow, the better.

“I’m certain that you do, Captain,” Maniple nodded, smiling at the bark blue pegasus. “I’ve reviewed your record, so I know you’re the best mare for this job.” He sat up a little straighter in his seat and extended his hoof to her. “Good luck, Captain Corsair, and a speedy return.”

The pegasus tapped her hoof to his before snapping smartly to attention and rendering a crisp salute. “Permission to depart, sir?”

“Granted,” the general responded, returning the gesture. “A train has been reserved for your trip. A runner will deliver the details in the morning. See to your ponies, Captain.”

The mare nodded, executed an about-face and left the office. Behind her, General Maniple watched the uniformed flier depart, a satisfied smile on his face. He had indeed spent a good deal of time reviewing the records of many of the company commanders in the Frontier Corps in order to pick an ideal candidate for this mission. While nothing in Captain Corsair’s official dossier had stood out, the ‘unofficial’ files that he compiled on the officers under his command had told a very interesting story indeed.

‘Wild-Mare Corsair’, as a few of the officers of his corps referred to her―though never when there was the possibility that she could hear them―was well known in the Frontier Corps for her volatile temperament. It had not done her career any particular favors, though the same could not be said for her reputation. Her company was the pride of the whole 2nd Light Hoof. On more than one occasion, it had seemed as though marauders terrorizing settlements on the fringes of the princedom had simply disbanded into the wilderness the moment word reached them of who was being sent to deal with the situation.

However, there was certainly an opportunity there for him to exploit in the interests of his and the good Earl of Bitter Creek’s plan: her reputation would become simply one more bullet point on the list of ‘tragic oversights’ that led to the eventual war between Equestria and Saddle Arabia. When the history books on this incident were written, Maniple was certain that there would be a chapter lamenting the brash captain’s hot-headed nature, and how it doubtlessly only served to escalate matters.

If only her official record might have given Maniplul some hint as to what a poor choice such a pony was for this delicate matter, the whole mess could have been avoided!

Such a shame...

Author's Note

Thank you so much for reading! As always, a thumbs up and comment are always greatly appreciated

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