The Blind Turtle Tavern

Roam,

Zebra Confederation,

And Appleloosan Desert,

Western Equestria

The pegasus mare carefully extracted herself from beneath the clawed forelimb of her hippogriff client so as not to wake him. It was something that she had become quite adept at doing over these last few months since catching his eye. Once freed, she idly stretched her sore joints as the tips of her wings went about discarding the last few stubborn bits of the alluring tack that hadn’t come off during the evening’s vigors. She then slipped behind one of the tapestries and poured herself a generous glass of red wine.

All in all, she supposed that this wasn’t the worst assignment that she’d ever had. While she could have done without stroking the good captain’s ego every night―among other things she was asked to stroke―she had to admit that the hippogriff mercenary commander possessed quite the refined palette. Exaggerating the quality of his mating skills was a small price to pay, in her estimation, for access to all of the fine wines and delectable treats that were made constantly available to her.

If nothing else, it served as a pleasant way to get the taste out of her mouth…

Besides, it seemed as though her efforts might have finally paid off! She shucked off the bracelets clipped to the joints of her wings. Feathers melted away into black leather as one of her bat-like wings wrapped around her glass of wine while the other extended to where the packet of papers that had been delivered by the old unicorn had been set down. The mare already had a fair notion of what she would find within, given what her client had said earlier, but she read them for herself anyway to be certain of their contents.

It was a most curious thing, indeed, to find a representative of the Equestrian nobility reaching out to employ mercenaries. Not unheard of, the mare had to admit, but extremely rare. By Equestrian law, the nobility were forbidden from possessing more than a modest personal security force to ensure their protection while traveling and to look imposing while guests visited their private estates. Such had not always been the case, of course. Once upon a time, nobles had fielded substantial personal armies who answered to them directly, but were loaned out to the diarchs when Equestria’s need was dire.

That all changed when some of those nobles had been persuaded to back Nightmare Moon during her rebellion against her elder sister. In the aftermath of that war, the nobility had been quickly and systematically stripped of their ability to wield substantial martial might of their own, and every soldier in the land was sworn to Princess Celestia’s personal service under the umbrella of the EUP.

As a result, if a pony in Equestria found themselves in need of a significant amount of military muscle, they turned to one of the many professional ‘free’ companies that roamed the world. So called because they were beholden to none but their current employer. Their services were, ironically, actually rather costly to retain. The Ivory Company, for example, cost as much for a month, as a comparably sized military unit in Equestria cost to maintain for a whole year. That being said, the mare had to grudgingly admit that she could think of few Equestrian groups that could match The Ivory Company mare-for-mare where combat skill was concerned.

They were well worth their price.

None of that truly served to explain what one of Equestria’s nobles wanted their services for though. Of perhaps even greater concern was the apparent desire for secrecy.

The mare frowned as she looked over the requisition. She certainly didn’t like the look of this. She had initially thought that the mercenaries were being provided with a forged document that would gain them access to food or clothing stocks at a depot somewhere. The smuggling of government materials to outside markets was an ever present concern for the Equestrian Intelligence Service. In this case, her estimations had fallen far short of the reality, it seemed. This requisition was the genuine article, signed by one of the realm’s generals, and it wasn’t for rations. These mercenaries were being given access to weapons and barding.

Hawkwood had spoken truthfully when he’d informed the earl’s messenger that The Ivory Company had no need to be supplied with arms. They had plenty of war materials of their own. Which only further begged the question of why they were being supplied with Equestrian equipment? All of which was in addition to monetary compensation, as well.

“I do not like this,” she grumbled softly as she read over the earl’s letter of introduction. “Alabaster Fetlock, Earl Bitter Creek...hmm. What are you up to?” the letter was indeed as vague as the hippogriff had let on. It insisted that details would be provided at the pickup site. At least it gave the location for that site.

Not that Hawkwood was going to be taking his little pegasus plaything along for the trip. She was just how he indulged himself while he was in Roam. Why he didn’t feel like satisfying himself with a hippogriff hen, the mare couldn’t say. She supposed that she should have been grateful enough that he had a penchant for ponies. Otherwise, she wouldn’t be in the position that she was in right now.

She carefully placed the papers back where she’d picked them up from and tossed back the last of her wine. Retaining her glass, the mare walked over to a set of stylish leather saddlebags that were nestled neatly in the corner of the room. From within them she withdrew a phial of glowing blue liquid. She emptied the contents into the glass clutched in her wing and ducked behind another of the tapestries which covered a window. The storm had long since abated, leaving a clear sky in its wake; along with a brilliantly glowing moon.

The bat-winged mare set the glass on the windowsill and waited. As the liquid caught the moonlight, it glowed progressively brighter until a delicate fan of cyan light radiated off the top. Within those rays of light was the face of a dark gray stallion with tufted ears and slitted pupils much like her own. The mare’s face soured as she saw that the stallion was wearing a broad grin.

“Sounded like somepony had another thrilling evening,” he said, chuckling to himself. “You should be on bridleway with acting chops like that!” He paused for a moment before adding, “If it was acting, that is…not gonna lie, I am dying to know what you sound like when somepony actually gets you going...”

She curled her lip back in a snarl, her own eyes narrowing sharply. “I have expressed my displeasure with your eavesdropping in the past, Nocturne. Do not make this a matter to be taken up with Her Royal Highness! Now, are you prepared to receive my report or not?”

“By all means, Operative Nightjar,” the stallion said, his enduring smile suggesting that he hadn’t been cowed at all by her threat.

“The Ivory Company has been given a job by an Equestrian noble. An Earl Bitter Creek.”

“Really?” The other batpony’s mirth melted instantly into a much more serious expression as he took in the news. “Interesting. Do you know the nature of the job?”

Nightjar shook her head, “I do not. Nor does Hawkwood. Those details will not be revealed until later. However, I do know the location of their next destination.”

“Hmm…” The stallion frowned. “We’ll want to keep an eye on this, just in case. I’ll have an agent assigned to watch over the good Earl to see what can be learned. In the meantime, I want you back in Canterlot the moment you can leave Roam unnoticed. I’m going to attach you to the surveillance team tasked with watching over The Ivory Company. You know Hawkwood better than anypony we have; that insight could prove useful.”

“Understood,” she nodded, “I should be there in four days.”

“I’ll make sure the team knows you’re coming―” Both ponies fell silent as faint grunting and the sound of a body turning over could be heard from beyond the tapestry. The stallion’s grin was back. “Sounds like he’s ready for an encore performance, operative. Contact me again if you learn anything else. Nocturne, out.”

The mare continued to scowl as the light dimmed once more. With a frustrated grunt, the mare reached out with one of her leathery wings and flicked the glass of liquid out the window, taking some small measure of satisfaction upon hearing it shatter on the cobblestones outside. She heard the hippogriff tiercel starting to rouse from where he lay on the cushions.

“Saccharin…?”

“I’ll be right there, love,” Nightjar said sweetly as she skirted around the outside of the tapestries towards where she’d left her bracelets. “Just had to use the little fillies room.” She clipped the pair of golden bands back into place near the base of her wings before using one of the now-feathered appendages to gently brush aside the hanging lengths of felt. She sauntered up to the drowsy mercenary, peering at him with her big, round, eyes. “I didn’t wake you, did I? Oh, love, I’m so sorry!” She cupped his face with the delicate pinions of her wings and leaned in for a tender kiss. “Here, let me help you relax and get back to sleep.” She traced a hoof gently down the belly of the reclining hippogriff until she reached his groin. “You just lie there and let your sweet Saccharin do all the work…” she spread her lips in a broad smile as she felt herself get a response from the tiercel’s equine half.

The mercenary commander let out a pleased groan and moved slightly to allow the pegasus mare easier access, tracing a lazy talon through her mane. She moved in closer to him and carefully eased herself onto the hippogriff, gasping with pleasure as she did so. The winged pony nibbled on her lower lip as she began to slowly rock herself back and forth while straddling the tiercel, “...After all,” she said, “you’re going to be so busy tomorrow―”

“―And I feel like I can help make your day a little better if you let me do this for you. What do you say, Miss Brisk?”

“While I appreciate the offer, Private Flashover,” the cyan unicorn mare said, fighting to keep a pleasant smile on her face as she beheld the incorrigible unicorn stallion’s broad grin, “I am perfectly capable of folding my own laundry, I assure you,” she said, clearing her throat as she used her telekinetic aura to gently pry away the silk nightgown that the orange stallion was holding up.

“Just trying to make myself helpful in any way that I can, Miss Brisk,” he insisted amiably, still maintaining his grin. “I am yours to command!”

“As it so happens, there is one thing that you can do for me that would be an immense help,” the unicorn mare said after spending a moment feigned in thought, flashing the private a pleading look. “I didn’t want to bring it up before because I thought it might be too much of an imposition...”

The stallion blew a dismissive raspberry, “Imposition? Miss Brisk, I am under direct orders to serve at your every whim! I am here to do your bidding, whatever it may be. So I can promise you, it’s no imposition at all.” he straightened himself up, a determined expression on his face. “Whatever it is, consider it done!”

“Oh, thank goodness,” Autumn Brisk let out a sigh of relief and levitated over a stack of thick tomes to the young soldier. “These are the collected works of R. O. Laurels―also known as, ‘Laurels of Arabia’―who studied Saddle Arabian culture extensively while she was there assisting with their revolt against the Bovinian Empire.” Flashover’s complexion visibly paled as he took possession of the teetering tower of books that he’d just been given. “I’d like you to go through them and find all her references to Saddle Arabian etiquette in general, and anything that might be regionally specific to Gallopoli in particular.”

“This...this is, like, a lot of books,” the stallion said, sounding hesitant. “I don’t know if I’ll be able to―”

“The last thing I want to do is accidentally offend our guests by committing a cultural faux pas!" The mare went on with a dramatic lilt in her voice, ignoring the his apprehensive words. "Why, could you imagine how humiliating it would be for me if I damaged Equestrian-Arabian relations because I picked up the wrong fork during a meal?! I’d be the laughing stock of the Ministry of Foreign Affairs!” She leaned in close to the private and peered at him with wide, pleading, eyes and quivering lips. “You don’t want me to be a laughing stock, do you?”

“Wha―no! No, of course not…” Flashover looked back at the volumes she was holding in the air and swallowed. A moment later, he’d managed a strained looking grin at the envoy. “Don’t you worry, Miss Brisk; I won’t let you down!” The stallion dipped down and maneuvered beneath the floating stack, which deposited themselves upon his back, eliciting a barely contained grunt as the weight of the tomes settled. “I’ll start going through these right away!” He snapped to attention and saluted the cyan unicorn before turning and leaving the bedroom of her private car. Out of earshot, he muttered to himself by way of a mantra: “They’re wild in the sack. They’re wild in the sack…”

For her own part, Autumn Brisk let out a relieved sigh and slumped onto her bed. She regarded the nightgown that she was still holding and rolled her eyes as she bundled it up with her magic and tossed it into the nearest open suitcase. He was a nice enough colt, and the pining was cute at times, but he was definitely a little...enthusiastic about his assignment. She’d debated asking the commander for a different attaché, but…

It was worth putting up with the private’s enthusiasm to help her if it meant that she got to have a cute stallion at her beck and call. It was a shame he wasn’t some noble’s relative. She’d have started riding him their first night out if that’d been the case. Oh well. She supposed that she’d just have to settle for letting him fawn all over her…

...and taking care to secure her more delicate articles.

She floated out a small sheaf of papers and began to read over their contents. Contrary to what she may have told the young soldier, Autumn Brisk had already made all of the notes that she needed on Saddle Arabian customs and traditions. The brief that she had received from Earl Bitter Creek had also laid out most of the relevant information that she’d need to accomplish her mission; such as the names and titles of Gallopoli’s leaders and community members of note. She had read over the lists already, of course, and committed many of them to memory, but she forced herself to review the material at least three times a day anyway.

This was her first assignment, and whether it was designed to trip her up or not, she was determined to not only accomplish her mission, but exceed all possible expectations of her peers. Being owed a favor by the head of her ministry was one thing, and would help to give her career a fine initial boost; but being lauded as a diplomatic prodigy was what it would take to make her career. Otherwise she risked all sorts of backroom rumors about how she had really secured the favor of Earl Bitter Creek, and those sorts of theories would only serve to undermine her in the future.

Just because she wasn’t actually above that sort of thing didn’t mean she needed that fact advertised―especially when it wasn’t true. This time.

Granted, her greatest concern at the moment was how she was going to deal with this Captain Corsair that she had been saddled with for her mission. The planning luncheons and meetings that she had shared with the mare thus far had certainly proved...illuminating. Autumn Brisk had no doubt that the dark blue pegasus mare was an accomplished military leader, but she clearly had little diplomatic acumen. The plans that she had outlined for the use of her soldiers made it sound like she was staging an occupation of the Saddle Arabian village! She was talking of searches and checkpoints, as though their task wasn’t one of merely protection from monsters during a construction project.

‘Drug interdictions’ indeed! Nothing in any of the Earl’s reports mentioned controlled substances of any kind being a concern in this area. In fact, her information insisted that glitterdust trade had been all but abolished in Saddle Arabia in the last decade.

The cyan unicorn envoy had kept trying to encourage the company commander to restrict her attentions to simply providing sentries around the outskirts of the town, but she routinely dismissed such notions immediately as being inadequate. Autumn Brisk hadn’t much cared for her tone during those moments either. The unicorn acknowledged that she wasn’t a military-minded mare, but it didn’t take a formal martial education to recognize that simply keeping an eye out for desert dwelling monsters that got too close to the town didn’t require inspecting merchant carts entering the town!

Captain Corsair’s efforts were doubtlessly going to end up raising some hackles if left unchecked, and Autumn Brisk knew that, as the mission’s envoy and representative of the Crowns, it was going to fall to her to bring the pegasus officer to heel when that happened. The problem with that was, while she certainly had the legal authority to issue instructions to the commander, there was realistically no way for Autumn Brisk to actually compel the flier to obey those instructions. All that she would be able to do was send a strongly worded letter back to the Earl bemoaning her troubles with her escort. While such a course of action would doubtlessly cause troubles for Corsair in the fullness of time, it would do nothing to help her out in the interim.

She needed leverage, and she had none. Promises of dire consequences later weren’t going to help her now.

Somepony knocked on the door to her cabin. The unicorn mare cringed and sighed. She had hoped that her attaché would have been distracted by the assignment she’d given him for longer than a few minutes. “Enter,” she looked over at the door and was surprised to see a gray horned head poke in where she had expected an orange one. “Oh, Lieutenant Lumiere! What can I do for you?” She floated her papers back into their folder and sat up on her divan, regarding the officer with a pleasant smile.

As she did so, her mind began to work as she contemplated several possible solutions to her problem. After all, if the commander proved herself to be a hindrance to the mission, the simplest option was to replace her with somepony who would be more cooperative. Thus far, the company’s executive officer had been quite receptive to her suggestions―or was at least very good at being a polite listener. If she could make him see reason, and come to share her thoughts on how best to approach their mission in Gallopoli, then it might be possible for her to convince Lumiere to relieve his wayward commander.

The cyan unicorn looked over the stallion as he stepped inside. It was simply a matter of finding the right means to secure his support if the time came that she should need it; and she had a few thoughts on how to accomplish that…

“I’m just here to advise you that the engineer has confirmed our arrival time in Istanbull. We’ll pull into the station at nineteen hundred hours―seven in the evening for you civilian types,” he added, flashing the mare a warm smile. “From there, it’s just a day’s march to Gallopoli.”

“Thank you, Lieutenant, I’ll be sure to be ready,” Autumn Brisk nodded. Then, just as the stallion was about to withdraw, she added, “Lieutenant?” The gray unicorn paused and she gestured to the open space on the divan next to her. “Do you have a moment to just...talk?” She smiled bashfully at the young officer. “I feel like we only see each other for briefings, and if we’re going to be spending the next few months working together, I figure we should get to know one another better.

“Pleasant though he may be, Private Flashover isn’t a very enlightening conversationalist.” She noticed the lieutenant hesitating in the doorway. “Unless I’m keeping you from your duties, of course. I don’t want to be an imposition.”

The other unicorn finally sighed and shook his head, offering a smile of his own to the envoy. “No, Ma’am; you’re not imposing.”

“Call me Autumn, please,” she insisted, moving over to make a little more room for the stallion to join her on her seat in the modest cabin. The officer stepped over and took the offered seat. “I don’t mean to make you uncomfortable. I just…” she shrugged apologetically, “...I’m not used to being this isolated. I’m a ‘Representative of Their Royal Majesties’. I feel that has put off quite a few of your soldiers.”

The other unicorn nodded in understanding. “I can see how that might be the case. I could have a word with them, if you’d like?”

“Oh, goodness, no! Then they’ll feel like they’re being ordered to talk to me.” She shook her head. “I just want to be able to have a nice chat every once in awhile that’s not about ‘business’. Maybe that’s silly…”

“Not so much as you might think, Ma’am―Autumn,” the lieutenant corrected himself, earning a chuckle from the unicorn mare next to him. “Is there anything in particular that you’d like to talk about?”

The mare shrugged. “Oh, just little things. Nonsense things.” She reached over and gently brushed her fetlock against the lieutenant’s foreleg, looking coyly up at him. “Why don’t we start with you telling me all about, Lumiere…”

Corporal Cravat looked across the narrow aisle of the sleeper car that housed most of first platoon. He regarded the young orange unicorn stallion that had surrounded himself with what looked to be his own weight in books and was now reading through their contents with a determined expression on his face. Off to the side, a stylus was quivering as it jotted down a never ending stream of notes onto a small stack of papers.

“I can’t help but ponder the frightening amount of headway you’d make if you put that kind of effort into your military career,” the company’s medic mused. “You’d make General of Their Majesties Armies in, like, a year; tops.”

Flashover glanced up briefly to glare at his friend before returning to the open tome in front of him. “I take my work very seriously, you know that.”

“I know you take mares seriously,” Cravat observed.

“Exactly.” The other stallion paused briefly once more, flashing a wry smirk at the medical pony. “Wrangling mares is a lot of work. Especially if you want to land one of high breeding like Brisky. You know how that is.”

The dappled stallion cringed and lay back on his cot. “Oh, trust me, I know exactly what it takes to land a mare of ‘high breeding’,” he sighed.

Flashover shook his head, finally putting down his stylus and turning to look at the other stallion, crossing his forelegs under his chin. “Have I mentioned yet today how much I hate you?”

“Not since breakfast.”

“I have a subscription to Vanity Mare magazine, you know. I’ve seen pictures of Count High Rock’s daughter.” He ignored the annoyed groan that was the expected reaction from the medic whenever this subject came up. “Half the stallions in Manehattan would literally kill to even have a shot at the hottest mare on Bridleway right now―and you had her served up to you on a platter!

“What kind of stallion walks away from that?!” Flashover’s horn flared as he caught a book that had been inadvertently knocked off his cot in his excitement. Once he’d secured it, he continued, “Seriously, are you gay? I’m not judging; I’m just trying to understand how a stallion who claims to be straight turns down an arranged marriage to the leading mare in ‘My Fair Whinny’? I showed you the spread that she did for Playcolt, right? I’ve got it around here somewhere…”

“I saw it,” Cravat very nearly growled, not looking in Flashover’s direction. “She’s a very lovely mare, I know; and, no: I’m not gay.” The dappled stallion sighed, closing his eyes. “I just don’t like that I never got a say in the matter.”

“What, you think you can do better?” The orange unicorn’s tone suggested that he was quite doubtful on that point.

“I would like to have had the chance to try,” Cravat replied with a defeated expression. “The same way I’d have liked the chance to try pursuing a degree that I wanted; or even a job that I wanted…”

“Every pony on this train would give their hind legs to have what you gave up. You realize that, right?”

“Every pony but one,” the medic corrected with a smirk as he pointed a hoof at himself. “And if I could give it to somepony else, I probably would.” Another brief pause. “And I didn’t ‘give it up’; I just sort of...postponed it all for a bit.”

“Noble pony problems,” Flashover snorted before adopting a caricature of how he perceived titled nobility. “Oh, woe is me: my arranged bride is the hottest mare in Equestria! I was forced to attend the best university in the world! A spot’s been reserved for me running the most prestigious hospital in the princedom! How could my life possibly suck any more?!”

“Have I mentioned yet today how much I hate you?”

“Not since breakfast!” The unicorn grinned at his friend. He then retrieved his stylus. “Well, some of us have to actually put in effort to get pretty mares to notice us. So, if you don’t mind, I’m going to get back to impressing Brisky.”

“You do that.”

“I have the rosters for the duty rotations you asked for,” Bronco Company’s first sergeant announced, passing the small stack of papers across the small field desk that had been set up to allow for the baggage car to serve a dual purpose as the commander’s office and a briefing room for her small command staff. Normally, no such thing would have been set up on a train while the company was being shuttled between duty stations. However, they had been given short enough notice for this mission as it was, and there hadn’t been nearly enough time to take care of all of the administrative work that went into preparing for a mission like this back in Canterlot.

It was a two day trip to the Saddle Arabian border even by train, and Captain Corsair was determined to use as much of that time getting all of her ponies in a row as she could. This assignment was going to go off without a single hitch if she had anything to say on the matter.

At the moment, it was just the captain and her noncommissioned counterpart. Her subordinate officers would be arriving within the hour to give their updates on the cultural briefings that the soldiers were receiving during the trip. The deep blue pegasus mare reached out with her pinions and collected the sheaves of paper, giving the rosters only a cursory glance before setting them down again. First Sergeant Shillelagh was a perfectly competent noncom, and could certainly be trusted to come up with satisfactory duty rotations for the soldiers within the parameters that their orders had set.

“Thank you, First Sergeant,” the commander replied, “I know we’ll be stretching everypony a little thin. Truthfully, they should have sent at least a line company on this mission.” The crystal mare nodded her own agreement.

Corsair was familiar with the sorts of political games that were played in the military. Ironically, many such games were the result of specific edicts that had been put in place explicitly to head off such machinations.

In the interests of keeping Equestria’s cavalry from becoming mired by the sorts of posturing that went on within the Peerage, titled nobles were forbidden from holding direct command positions in the military, and were instead relegated to supporting staff roles high enough up the chain so as to keep them from causing too much mischief. In theory, this both precluded the possibility of any sort of insurrection, as had happened during Nightmare Moon’s rebellion, and it also meant that feuding noble factions couldn't manipulate troop deployments in ways that might put the nation at risk in order to strengthen their own bloc or weaken others.

In practice, however, politics and cronyism still found its way into the higher echelons of Equestria's military. This was, in part, due to the realm's practice of rewarding exceptional service of the military's top-performing generals with minor titles of nobility and granting them a modest little fief somewhere. It was something of an 'enhanced retirement package' for those whose service to Their Majesties proved to be exceptional, and was intended to motivate officers to perform to their utmost. A not unreasonable concept, in theory.

Of course, such a practice had overlooked the fact that there were two ways to become a 'top performing general': you could either push yourself to put in the extra time and effort into rising above your peers and become noticed by the Royal Court...or, you could undermine your competition in an effort to make yourself simply look more competent by comparison.

One of these routes was considerably easier than the other, and thus tended to be the more favored course of action.

Captain Corsair wasn’t sure who was trying to trip up who with this current debacle in the making, but she knew when she and her ponies were being used as pawns in somepony else's games; and she didn’t like it.

Gallopoli was barely a hamlet out in the middle of nowhere, not unlike Little Buck had been. That was why it didn’t yet have a town guard of its own, nor was it very close to any of the Saddle Arabian garrisons that dotted their empire. According to her official orders, all that she and her ponies needed to do was set up regular patrols around the outskirts of the town to interdict any encroaching salamandars and keep the peace, just like a normal town guard. That should have been a simple enough task, and quite easily accomplished with the numbers that she had at hoof.

However, along with her orders regarding the protection of the town, there'd been an intelligence brief indicating that there was a burgeoning glitterdust trade in the small settlement and that it was being used to shunt the drug into Equestria. Now, officially, glitterdust was illegal in both Equestria and Saddle Arabia. Unofficially, the Saddle Arabians didn’t actually care all that much about it. The passage of the law banning the distribution and sale of the substance had been a provision in some trade agreement between the two nations over a century ago.

The finely powdered narcotic had a rather...profound effect on unicorns. In very carefully controlled and properly administered doses, it could measurably increase a unicorn’s magical potential. It simultaneously produced a strong sense of euphoria in unicorns as well. The doses that maintained the heightened magical aptitude needed to be spaced out and kept rather small, otherwise it would actually dampen a unicron’s magical abilities.

This was not the case with the euphoria. That only grew with the size of the dose and frequency. Predictably, it was very easy to become addicted to glitterdust, and very quickly do irreparable damage to a unicorn’s ability to perform even the simplest telekinetic manipulation. Even a few overdoses could effectively cripple a unicorn in as little as a week. Hence why its distribution within Equestria was heavily restricted.

However, glitterdust didn’t actually affect Saddle Arabians in any way at all, not even as a narcotic, so it wasn’t a problem for them. As such, there wasn’t a lot of motivation on their end to put real effort into policing and enforcing the ban. Corsair was pretty sure that there were penalties written into the trade agreement that were supposed to go into effect if the Saddle Arabians were found to be derelict in their obligations, but the reality was that enforcing those penalties wasn’t actually worth what it would cost in the lost goodwill between the two nations.

Not when that same treaty also contained wording which gave Equestrian forces jurisdiction to interdict the drug within Saddle Arabian borders, if such forces were officially invited into Saddle Arabia in the first place. The perpetrators were supposed to be passed off to local officials for punishment―which Corsair was confident would be less than a slap on the fetlock―but the drug itself could be confiscated by the Equestrian forces and destroyed.

So it was that part of Bronco Company’s job would also include conducting inspections of goods going into and out of Gallopoli for the purposes of interdicting glitterdust shipments. At least, those were the directives that had been present in her orders from the general.

Which would be a lot easier to do with more than the eighty-ish ponies she had at her disposal…

“Would it be feasible to detach one of our pegasi with a message for Lieutenant Butters to tell him to get that ‘rear detachment’ of his up here sooner?” She didn’t like the idea of leaving Little Buck without anypony to look after them, but…

Maybe if she also sent a request to Major Gladius, asking him to spare a platoon or two for the village…?

The noncom nodded, “That can be arranged, yes, Ma’am. I’ve also got a few ideas that I’d like to run past you and the other officers about improving the speed of our searches,” the crystal mare noted the commander’s piqued interest and continued, “Corporal Litmus’ parents work as apothecaries in Stalliongrad. According to him, it’s possible to mix a liquid that will act as a reliable detector to see if any object has been anywhere near glitterdust. He’s confident he could mix some up when we get to Gallopoli.”

“Really? I want him at the staff meeting coming up. I want to hear this idea of his.” If it really could reduce the invasiveness of their searches, and the speed at which they could do them, that would help out a great deal. “I don’t suppose you’ve been struck by any other rays of inspiration?”

“Not that come to mind, Ma’am. But I’ll let you know if any do.”

“Please do.” They’d need every advantage they could get on this mission, especially with that envoy of theirs being as obstinate as she was. Every time Corsair brought up anything to do with measures designed to interdict glitterdust, Autumn Brisk nearly threw a fit, calling them a waste of time and too antagonizing.

Honestly, Corsair would have preferred to just keep the unicorn out of the loop entirely at this point, just to be rid of her whining; but the pegasus didn’t even want to think about the nightmare that would be waiting for her back home when the envoy lodged her inevitable protests with the Cavalry for that. She could huff and holler all she wanted about the cart searches; the fact was that Corsair was enforcing a bona fide treaty between Equestria and Saddle Arabia. If Autumn Brisk lodged a complaint about that, it was her flank that would be under the microscope. So Corsair was content to simply ignore her petulant protests on that matter.

Which didn’t mean that she still wouldn’t rather have not heard them at all.

It was going to be a long mission...

Author's Note

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

I've set up a Cover Art Fund if you're interested and have any bits lying around!