Private Pinkie

08:23 - 01/05/1008 - Lunar Castle, Everfree Forest

The blaring alarm split Warmaster Selenite’s ears like a guillotine.

The thestral wrothe in bed as a battle raged inside her mind. A battle between the desire to ignore the noise and return to the blissful realm of sleep she was so unjustly torn from, and the understanding that this resounding blare meant she had to get out of bed.

“Nnrrg,” her husband Sol groaned as he shot out from under the covers. “The hell’s that?” the unicorn mumbled, struggling to speak over the noise.

“Mh, emergency alarm.” Selenite clambered out of bed and stumbled to the door, her logical side achieving a triumphant victory in the mental battle. “Whatever it is, it's urgent. Get my uniform ready, please.” Her voice was barely audible over the low drone of the alarm.

Sol raised a hoof to his forehead in what might’ve been a salute or what might’ve been him moving to rub the sleep from his eyes. Probably both.

While Selenite stumbled into the living room her long, matted, silver mane and tail dragged across the floor. Selenite and Sol’s military experience may have forced them to be early risers capable of operating on inconsistent or lackluster sleep patterns, but that didn’t make rude awakenings any more pleasant.

Once she picked up the phone, the alarm stopped, allowing the couple a brief moment of respite. “Warmaster Selenite speaking. What’s the situation?” she said into the transmitter, rubbing sleep from her eyes. A few moments passed with barely audible chatter coming from the receiver. “What!?” she shouted. “I’m sorry, say that again, slowly.”

Still stretching, Sol crawled his way out of bed, his body begged him to throw himself back down onto the mattress. Sure, he could get up, but it was May first, Workers’ Night, a public holinight! Definitely a night to lie in before he got cracking with his plans with friends. But now also a night when his wife had to deal with an apparent emergency. Duty calls, he supposed. Nevertheless, he was soon up on his hooves and carried a well-pressed uniform in his magical grasp, bringing it over to Selenite.

“Thanks,” Selenite whispered to Sol. “Hold the phone while I get dressed.”

Taking hold of the hoofset, Sol repressed a grumble. While she slipped into her uniform, every inch of it snugly fitting onto her small frame, her ear was firmly pressed against the receiver, intently listening to the chatter from the other end. What were they saying? Sol couldn't tell, he could barely keep his eyes open let alone keep his ears forward. He must’ve nearly dropped the phone at one point.

“Okay, what’s the extent of the damage? Any injuries? Casualties?” a fully dressed Selenite said as she took the phone out of Sol's aura. A few seconds of chatter from the phone followed. “None? Really? Oh thank Nightmare,” she breathed, releasing a large amount of air she didn’t know she’d held. “What about damage to the building?”

Coffee, Sol’s mind snapped to coffee. He rushed into the kitchen, technically the same room as the living room due to the absence of walls, and quickly made two mugs of coffee for himself and Selenite. Both mugs were exactly as the couple liked them, pitch black. Coffee was wake-up juice, no need to be fancy. In a single swig, Sol downed the contents of his mug, his vision sharpened dramatically as enlivening caffeine rushed through his veins.

“Moon above, the whole archives wing? Fuck, fuck!” Selenite stressed, grabbing the mug Sol had levitated over to her and drinking from it. With the coffee in her system, she blinked herself further awake before speaking again. “Do we know who did it? Who might’ve done it? Who’d even have the capability?”

But as Sol’s vision cleared and the final traces of sleep were blinked away, he noticed an orange glow emanating from one of the windows with flickering light filtering through the blinds. Curious, he pulled back the curtains and lifted the blinds. The sight before him made him gasp and shudder.

Fort Polaris, a brutalist monolith shaped like its namesake star housing the nerve centre of the Imperial Lunar Military, was ablaze. A whole wing of the building was gone, reduced to smouldering rubble, as the fire raced through the rest of the building sending thick billows of smoke into the night sky. Already the pegasi fire brigade had descended on the inferno, bringing storm clouds to pour torrential rain on the inferno in an attempt to slow the raging blaze, their effect so far limited. The flames were so bright that if Sol had more distance, he’d almost think the sun was rising.

“Okay okay…” Selenite took a deep breath. “I’ll be there as soon as I can, Warmaster Selenite out,” and she clicked the hoofset back onto the phone. “Sol, you alright?” she asked as she turned to her husband, noticing his gaze locked on the inferno outside. She got to her hooves and walked up to Sol, putting a hoof on his shoulder. “Nopony’s hurt, as far as we know. It was evacuated beforehoof,” she said, attempting to reassure him.

Even though she was aware of what happened and needed to hurry, Selenite couldn’t stop herself from staring at the inferno. How? It was one of the most secure buildings in Equestria, perhaps even the world, built of anything-proof concrete and guarded at every hour of every night. It wasn’t the fire itself that scared her, it was that someone or something had struck so deep into where she thought was safe, struck where her friends worked, struck right next to where she and her husband slept. If this building was vulnerable, everything was vulnerable.

Suddenly, Sol noticed something amidst the fury, ripping him from his thoughts. Small dark spots stuck out against the fire, too small to be immediately noticeable yet obvious when spotted. They were rising out of the fire, floating through the smoke and into the air. He blinked a few times, just to be sure his eyes were fine, yet the spots remained. He’d practically pressed his snout up against the glass, squinting at the great mass of smoke and flame trying to discern what these spots were. But once the shapes became clear and indistinguishable, the realisation hit him like a brick wall.

“Are those balloons?”