Harmony 6: The Coming of Nightmaresby CopperTopChaptersChapter 1: The Long Twilight StruggleChapter 2: The GatheringChapter 3: Learning CurveChapter 4: Ship of TearsChapter 5: Matters of HonorChapter 6: There All the Honor LiesChapter 7: A Day in the StrifeChapter 8: Signs and PortentsChapter 10: Voices of Authority (Part 2)Chapter 11: Spider in the WebChapter 12: Interludes and ExaminationsPrologue: Midnight on the Firing LineChapter 9: Voices of Authority (Part 1)Chapter 1: The Long Twilight StruggleColonel Twilight Sparkle spent the majority of the ENS Lickity’s docking maneuvers mostly just doing her best to stay out of the way of Captain Keelhaul’s crew. Pulling a galleon into port wasn’t the sort of thing that benefited from the ‘help’ of a laypony who didn’t know anything about sailing a ship. So the little purple unicorn instead perched herself in a corner of the vessel’s quarterdeck and contented herself with appraising what was to become her new home. She hadn’t been sent on her assignment completely blind, of course. A posting as important as this one had come with a good bit of background information, though apparently not all of it—Twilight had made a note to write somepony back in Equestria as to why she hadn’t been clued in on the fates of the five preceding Harmony Fortresses. But most of that information had been quite dry—even for her—if she was being honest. She knew Harmony’s dimensions, armaments, population, cargo and passenger throughputs—Harmony Six was more than just a military fortification—and other such trivia. She’d even been provided with a few sketches and early design concepts. None of which had prepared the mare for actually seeing the fort with her own eyes. Twilight had seen plenty of military forts during the Equestria-Zebrican War. They had mostly been small, thick-walled, utilitarian affairs. Constructed to withstand attacks from roving packs of monsters or the occasional ambitious bandit gang, those old stone bastions hadn’t lasted long against zebra artillery during the war. Twilight had read many reports compiled after the war—and had even written a few herself—which enumerated the failings in the design philosophies of those forts when it came to resisting a technologically advanced foe like the zebras. The purple unicorn was relieved to see now that the conclusions reached in those reports, and the suggested changes that had been proposed for future construction, had not been overlooked by the powers that be. The fortress’ massive curtain wall did not merely ‘encircle’ the island; it projected forth from it in massive pointed bastions, each one bristling with cannons whose facings converged with that of their neighbors in order to provide overlapping fields of fire. On land, this arrangement ensured that an approaching army would nearly always be taking fire from two directions. On the open water, against ships, this feature was even far more effective. As a consequence of how galleons needed to be designed in order to sail effectively, ships-of-war packed nearly all of their weapons into their sides. Most purpose-built ships of the line possessed two or three decks of cannons on each side, with perhaps an additional armament of carronades on the topmost deck to assist with close-in fighting—the latest designs that Twilight had seen leaving the Manehattan Dockyards boasted a fourth gundeck. Pony ships thus needed to arrange themselves with their sides facing an enemy in order to shoot at them. This meant that those ships also tended to take fire on their sides as well, and so that was where most of the thicker timbers were piled on, with little protection afforded to the rear of a ship in order to save on what weight they could. Which was why going up against a ‘star fort’ design was the next best thing to a death sentence for the galleon: bringing their guns to bear against—and thus sailing parallel to—one of the fortress’ cannon-armed bastions would nearly always mean exposing their unprotected stern to another. Or at least their almost as equally exposed bow. A fortress like Harmony would be the next best thing to invulnerable! …Against a pony ship, anyway. As the Lickity sailed closer into the docking area proper, Twilight caught sight of an anchored zebra ship. The unicorn was an army officer, and so she didn’t have a working knowledge of every design which traveled the seas, even those of her former enemy. She’d never had to face a ship in battle, after all. However, it wasn’t necessary to be naval-minded in order to identify that any given ship belonged to the zebras. Their ships had steel hulls. Twilight had run the numbers when she’d first heard about the striped equines using ships made exclusively of metal. After all, at first pass, the notion did seem outrageous. A metal boat? Metal sank in water! That was why any sane creature used wood—had been using wood for centuries. But numbers didn’t lie. Many layponies—and more than a few of the more stubborn ‘knowledgeable’ shipwrights in Equestria—still laughed off the notion of ‘metal boats’, even now; but Twilight had become a believer before she’d even seen her first zebra ‘dreadnought’ with her own eyes. Because she knew that the math worked out. The only thing that stopped Equestria from building similar steel warships today was the fact that they simply didn’t have the experienced dockhooves who knew how to actually do it. Or the industrial capacity to produce enough steel to build a whole navy in the first place. Not yet, anyway. Equestria’s industrial capacity was expanding every day. Slowly, yes, as much of their domestic focus was still on rebuilding what they’d lost during the war, but the projections that Twilight had seen suggested it would only take a generation or two for the ponies to catch up to where the zebras were now. The mare’s amethyst eyes scanned over the smaller ship anchored just outside the docks—a ‘destroyer’, she believed—lingering on its guns. For that was what they were: not cannons, but proper guns. Long, narrow barrels; loaded from the breech rather than down the barrel. Every one of them rifled, she knew. Compared to any pony galleon, there were paltry few of them—she saw only four. Even the zebra dreadnought she’d seen had only possessed eight guns in its main battery. The new four-decker ships-of-the-line coming out of Manehattan equipped over a hundred cannons in total. But Twilight had seen what similar rifled guns—and their high-explosive conical shells—fielded by the zebra army could do to their targets. They’d knocked down ponylength-thick stone walls as easily as a foal kicked over a sandcastle on the beach. She shuddered to think what such weapons would do to a wooden galleon. Twilight noticed that Captain Keelhaul’s crew seemed to be guiding the ship as far around the zebra vessel as they could safely get away with as they slipped past it into Harmony’s waiting port. The unicorn tore her gaze from the foreign warship and resumed appraising her new home. She was finding herself struggling to remember that, while the island did boast massive fortifications that encircled nearly the whole of it, Harmony was not, strictly speaking, a ‘military installation’. Both officially and in a very real practical sense. It was a city, by every metric that truly mattered. It hosted a civilian population of well over fifty thousand creatures who lived and worked on the small island. While most of what passed for the ‘local industry’ was ostensibly geared towards simply maintaining the fortress’ readiness—masons to service the walls, smiths and engineers for the cannons, dockhooves and shipwrights for its ports—Twilight was led to understand that Harmony was organically developing additional local industries as well. In order to make Harmony an appealing location for as many races as possible to establish their embassies, the fortress had been constructed within an archipelago that was nearly geographically equidistant from the planet’s three main continents. This was intended to ensure that no particular nation felt that they were being favored or slighted, and all would need to travel approximately the same distance to reach Harmony. This thought had been well received by the governments of the world’s major nations… …And also the major shipping companies. Harmony had quickly emerged as a natural layover point for much of the world’s sea-born transportation. There was every indication that, in a few more years, the fortress was going to cement itself as a major trade hub, even though it didn’t produce any wares or goods of its own. It was simply that it was far cheaper for a company selling goods to only pay to ship them to Harmony and then let the buyer worry about finding a way to get them the rest of their way to the destination. As it turned out, even the buyers were amenable to this arrangement. With such a dramatically shorter distance to cover, cargo ships could get away with carrying fewer provisions to support the crew during the voyage, which lowered their operating costs while increasing the quantity of goods they could haul on each trip. Sellers could ship out their products more cheaply, buyers could import their goods more cheaply, and the carriers moving them made bits coming and going. Everycreature won. Which wasn’t to say that there wasn’t a significant military aspect present on the island as well. There had to be. Trade ports—especially ports that were thousands of miles away from the support of a mainland—were quite attractive targets for pirates and raiders. Which meant that Harmony needed to be sufficiently protected to ward them off. Preferably boasting defenses formidable enough that the mere reports of them scared pirates enough that it removed even the temptation to launch a raid on the island or any local shipping. Given the scores of cannon muzzles that Twilight could spot poking out from between the merlons of the towering pointed bastions, the little purple unicorn judged that a sufficiently formidable appearance had been achieved. She pulled out a sheet of parchment and a pencil from her saddlebag, making a note to conduct a tour of the wall to inspect those cannons up close. Looking intimidating was good—and hopefully that would deter raiders on its own—but Twilight wanted to see for herself that those cannons were being maintained in proper fighting condition. Those weapons were perched atop a wall on a fort located in the middle of the sea. Water and salt were not kind to most metals if left unaddressed. Twilight’s attention was next drawn to the fortress’ docks, which were visibly already packed with ships of all sizes. The unicorn knew that Harmony had more than one dockyard—it had three, in fact. However, one of those was rather small and reserved for the fortress’ own small fleet of patrol craft charged with pirate interdiction duties and local rescue efforts. Civilian traffic was not allowed there. Similarly, the fortress’ so-called ‘Mission Docks’ were likewise reserved exclusively for use by vessels transporting material and personnel on behalf of the various embassies maintained on the island by their represented nations. Given that one of the roles which Twilight would be filling was that of Equestria’s plenipotentiary representative during diplomatic meetings, it would technically have been permissible for the Lickity to debark her there. However, most of the ship’s cargo was actually of a non-diplomatic nature and so it would have been more convenient to have it unloaded where it was expected to be by those ponies who were waiting for it. This also gave Twilight the opportunity to see the fort’s main dockyard in action and make note of any issues that might need her attention. The mare’s amethyst eyes suddenly darted towards the island’s central spire, and the location of an unofficial fourth ‘dock’—though Twilight knew the technical term for it was actually: a mooring mast. Like the Mission Docks, it was not intended for, nor accessible to, the general public. It was reserved for use by official government vessels only. Unlike the Mission Docks though, there was only a singular government with the technological capability to make use of it. Thus it was immediately obvious that the dock was in use. Twilight used every ounce of her will to wrench her gaze away from the mooring mast, lest she find herself—and far from the first time in her life—trying to work out the enchantments and mechanisms in place which allowed for the berthed vessel which was present to remain present in its berth. It wasn’t using simple physics to do so, she knew that much. She’d done that math too, and it definitely didn’t work out. Not even when factoring in her own understanding of what was permissible where enchantments were concerned. Twilight would have given up her commission for thirty seconds aboard that ship. She didn’t want to think too long about what price she’d be willing to pay for five minutes… So, instead, she distracted herself by watching the Lickity’s crew in action as they docked their relatively underwhelming and mundane galleon. It felt a little bit like watching a choreographed dance number in a stage musical, Twilight thought to herself, only without the actual music. Unless one was of a mind to count Keelhaul’s nearly constant cadence of shouted profanity-laden orders as being ‘musical’ in nature—which Twilight was not. This was mostly due to the technicality that the earth pony mare’s shouts didn’t consistently line up with any formally established meter. Soon enough, the nearly mesmerizing movements of ropes and bodies saw the galleon sidled up to its assigned dock and lashed snugly into place by the fortress’ workers. Twilight was the first pony down the gangway, at Keelhaul’s insistence. Most likely to ensure that the purple unicorn was now fully and properly out of the way of her crew as they set about preparing to unburden the ship’s hold. The mare didn’t argue the point, and was more than happy to walk herself down onto the dock, her two trunks of personal belongings floating behind her in her telekinetic grasp. She still had her parchment and pencil out, scribbling away as she idly noted how many ponies appeared to be assigned to each of the dockhoof crews, so that she could compare them later with the prescribed regulations. She also added some personal reminders to herself to look at the logs and manifests for the past six months or so to give her an idea of the amount of traffic that the fortress saw. It was possible that she might spot some predictable pattern to the number of ships that arrived at the fort—perhaps in line with seasonal weather and wind shifts in this part of the ocean. Using that data, it should be possible to create a dynamic schedule for shifts that would optimize dockhoof-to-ship numbers so that ponies weren’t sitting around with nothing to do when there weren’t a lot of ships or being overworked because there were more ships than usual—and why was it suddenly so quiet? Twilight’s pencil stopped moving in her magical grasp as she glanced up from her parchment. The purple unicorn blinked as she realized that the pier she was on was all but deserted. It wasn’t just this pier either, the mare noticed a second later. The neighboring piers were likewise devoid of ponies. The decks of the moored ships as well. The mare jerked as the sound of a bell rang out over the fortress, drawing her attention to a large clocktower that rose up out of the middle of the fort’s civilian quarter. According to the clock’s face, it had just reached two in the afternoon. As the bell continued to peel rhythmically in its announcement of the local time, Twilight dug around in her saddlebag with her magic, searching for one of the briefing documents that she’d been given. Was there some sort of fort-wide afternoon break that she’d overlooked? It seemed wholly impractical if there was one. Inefficient too. She might have to look into changing that policy so that the break was taken on a rotational basis so that all work didn’t just suddenly stop throughout all of Harmony— A violent thundercrack of sound behind her caused Twilight to leap into the air and spin around. For a heart-stopping moment in time, the little unicorn was back on the battlefield, surrounded by explosions, agonizing screams, and thick gunsmoke, but then the moment passed and she was on the dock in the present again. She’d forgotten her writing materials in her shock as her horn flared anew with a readied magic barrier and a primed spell to fend off attackers. Twilight found herself facing off against a towering wall of water. The battle-tested mare froze in shock, confronted with a ‘foe’ that was completely outside the realm of anything that she might have been expecting. Her hastily-erected shield, intended to deflect lance, bullet, or even smaller cannon shells, was not up to the task of protecting the mare from a veritable tidal wave of seawater. When it was over, Twilight was left blinking out into the once more serene ocean beyond the fort, her brain still trying to process where the unexpected tsunami could possibly have come from. Her ear twitched as she once more detected the drone of a working dock: ponies yelling directions, ropes straining beneath their burdens, crates thumping onto decks and piers—all of the noises that had vanished just a minute ago. The clock’s bell had ceased ringing though, Twilight idly noted. “What just happened?” Twilight wasn’t sure who exactly it was that she was asking in that moment. She’d simply felt the need to put the question out into the universe in the hopes that an answer would somehow manifest. Interestingly enough, it did. And the answer took the form of a mare speaking in a prim and proper Canterlot accent. “‘That’ would be Captain Rainbow Dash, who leads Wonderbolt Squadron, one of Harmony’s air patrol wings, performing the fourteen hundred perimeter sweep.” Twilight turned around and used a hoof to sweep aside her dripping wet mane so that she could see who was speaking to her. The ivory white unicorn mare was dressed in the same deep blue duty uniform that Twilight herself was sporting—if considerably dryer—with the notable difference being that her black-brimmed hat was emblazoned with a golden sun while Twilight’s was— —Apparently no longer on her head. The unicorn jerked at the realization and started looking around for it, fearing that her cover had been washed away by the freak wave which had hit her earlier. Her search was interrupted a moment later by the hat’s appearance, floating in a cyan field of magic. Twilight accepted the offered soggy cover from the other unicorn and sighed as she dumped out the last dregs of seawater from inside of it. She grimaced before stuffing the ruined bit of uniform in her saddlebag. It wasn’t like the thoroughly soaked parchment inside it could get any more ruined… “Thank you, Major…?” “Rarity,” the unicorn supplied crisply. She then clicked her rear hooves together as she came to a more formal position of attention and raised a hoof to her forehead in salute. “Presuming that you are indeed the Colonel Twilight Sparkle that I was informed would be arriving today?” There was the hint of a questioning note in the ivory mare’s tone, prompting the purple mare to nod in confirmation. “Then I will be serving as your executive officer. “Welcome to Harmony Fortress, colonel.” “I’ve had better receptions,” Twilight couldn’t help but mutter before returning her new XO’s salute. Then she added, “No offense, major.” “Hm. Quite.” There was the slightest uptick of one corner of the white unicorn’s mouth before her horn began to glow again. A pulse of magic washed across Twilight, leaving behind a tolerably dry uniform. The purple mare blinked in mild surprise as she evaluated the results of the other mare’s spell. Curious—and more than a little hopeful—she opened up her saddlebags…only to find that her writing materials were still thoroughly soaked. She raised a questioning brow in the major’s direction. “I’m better with fabric than I am with parchment, I’m afraid, colonel,” the mare admitted with an apologetic shrug of her neck. “That’s fine. I remember most of what I wrote down,” Twilight said. At least her luggage had survived the freak wave. “However, I wouldn’t mind swinging by the quartermaster’s office to pick up replacement writing materials on my way to my quarters. Then I’ll want to arrange a meeting with my new command staff.” “Of course, ma’am. Right this way,” the ivory mare motioned for Twilight to follow her away from the docks even as she took up one of the lavender colonel’s trunks in her own field. Or rather, she tried to. There was a brief moment of struggle on the part of the major, followed by a grunt of effort and flared nostrils as she finally managed to get the chest—barely—into the air. “I’ve heard about the ‘weight of command’,” the mare huffed under her breath as she eyed her superior, “but this is a bit more literal than I was expecting.” Finally she conceded defeat and allowed the chest to drop back to the pier. “What’s in there? A boulder?” “Books,” Twilight said as she wrapped the trunk up in her own magical field and floated it much more effortlessly alongside the luggage which contained her uniforms and personal items. The ivory unicorn’s eye twitched slightly at the casual display of magical power, but she didn’t comment on it directly. “I’ve never served in a diplomatic capacity before, so I don’t have any experience as an ambassador. I’ll need to learn on the job. “These are a collection of treatises by some of the most well-regarded philosophers and academics in the fields of government, politics, debate techniques, and social engineering. Just in case. I don’t expect to be able to match the other delegates in skill and experience right out of the gate,” Twilight admitted, “but I at least want to have an understanding of the foundations of diplomacy so that I’m not completely blindsided during negotiations.” “Ah. I see.” Major Rarity eyed the floating chests a brief moment longer before turning back around. “The quartermaster is this way, colonel.” Twilight fell into step beside her new XO. As they left the docks behind and entered the fortress proper, the lavender mare sought to avail herself to the insight which could only be provided by a ‘local’. “So, I don’t suppose I can get a more detailed explanation as to how a pegasus squadron creates a tidal wave?” “Oh, that wasn’t the whole squadron, colonel,” Rarity stressed with a slight flick of her head back towards the docks. Twilight frowned and glanced back just in time to see the better part of a dozen pegasus ponies flying in formation just beyond the anchorage. “That was just Rainbow Dash.” Twilight’s eyes were wide now. “...One pegasus did that?” “She’s quite fast.” The stunned unicorn did some rough calculations in her head regarding how much air pressure it would have taken to raise a wave that high, along with the speed which would be necessary to create that quantity of cavitation…and immediately concluded that ‘fast’ was a criminally understated descriptor for how quickly the pegasus in question must have been moving. “...If she can maintain that speed the whole way, she’d complete the circumferential patrol in—” “Ten seconds,” the major supplied, sounding far too nonplussed for her superior’s liking. “Most days she does it in about ten seconds.” Twilight tried to keep the audible click of her jaw closing quiet when she realized it had been hanging open. “That’s…” The violet mare spent longer than she would have preferred combing through her vocabulary in search of a more appropriate word than, “...fast.” She hadn’t succeeded. “Quite.” As the two unicorns made their way deeper into the fortress, Twilight found herself inclined to revise part of her impression of the nature of Harmony. On paper, and at a glance, she’d thought of it as being: ‘a military installation which hosted a civilian population and performed a political function.’ However, now that she was wandering through the heart of the island and was fully immersed within the throng of sounds and moving bodies of all shapes and races, she found herself feeling as if she was walking through the middle of what could be any other mainland city. One that just happened to be encircled by high walls. There were named streets, roadside stalls with creatures selling wares of all sorts, she even walked by a mare and stallion with a filly giddily prancing around them. Everything that one would expect to see while trotting through an ordinary town. A wisp of a smile curled Twilight’s lip as she watched the little pony family go by. She paid special attention to the little pink filly laughing between her parents. The unicorn vividly recalled when the sound of laughing foals wasn’t something that was heard in towns. When all that filled the streets were explosions of artillery shells. The moans and wails of the injured and dying— Twilight forced herself to stop, closing her eyes as she took a breath and let it out slowly. Even after so many years of peace, it wasn’t easy to keep such memories away. It took a few seconds for the major to realize that her charge wasn’t following anymore. “Colonel? Are you alright?” Twilight was about to respond when she found herself distracted by the faint—but quickly rising in volume—sound of heavy steps against a wooden floor. It was coming from the building to her immediate right. The sign hanging above the door identified the establishment as ‘Trade Wind’s Tavern’, and the unicorn presumed it was a bar of some sort. She turned towards the sound that had attracted her attention— —Just in time for the large pane of glass on the bar’s front to shatter outward, pelting the purple mare with a shower of transparent razors before she could get a ward up. A heartbeat later, Twilight was bowled over as the two grappling bodies—whose passage had caused the window to break—crashed into her. Her telekinetic field winked out, dropping her baggage to the ground, as the purple mare was half crushed with a pained grunt. The two combatants continued their roll after flattening the unprepared colonel, only coming apart once they’d landed in the middle of the road. While Twilight had not been afforded enough warning of their imminent arrival to get herself out of the way, the rest of the creatures in the area were able to make sufficient room to avoid being drafted into the scuffle. A piercing screech from one of them—a tawny-furred griffon hen with white feathers—caused the nearby spectators to pin back their ears and wince away even further. She squared off against her opponent—a sapphire-scaled dragoness—and reared up, her wings splayed out in a clear sign of aggression and dominance. “You fucking lizard! I’m gonna turn you into a handbag!” “You’re welcome to try it!” The dragoness snarled in response, wisps of smoke slipping out from around her narrow muzzle before it pulled back into a fierce grin which revealed rows of sharp glistening teeth. “I’ve suddenly got a craving for roast turkey…” Flickering firelight was just visible behind the mirthless smile. Rarity was in the process of helping her new commander to get back up onto her hooves when the pair of quarreling creatures launched themselves back at each other to resume the barroom brawl which had presumably carried them out into public. Twilight was still too stunned by the blow she’d received to effectively concentrate on casting a spell. All the smaller purple unicorn could do was stare on in mute horror as the griffon and dragon closed on each other, their respective claws bared and ready to rend their opponent apart in front of her. The griffon darted to the right with a loud squawk. It was an exceptionally sudden movement. One that Twilight wouldn’t have believed a griffon to normally be capable of. The purple unicorn’s assessment was quickly proven to be correct, as she soon learned what the griffon hen’s own surprised squawk indicated that she had just discovered too: The maneuver had not been of the griffon’s own doing. Just before the two could make contact, a coil of rope had all but materialized around the leaping griffon’s hind leg, going taut almost immediately before yanking the eagle-headed feline out of reach from a swipe of the dragon’s claws. Twilight and Rarity followed the new trajectory of the griffon and saw that she was headed into the waiting hooves of a distinctly unhappy-looking pony clutching the other end of the rope in her teeth. The griffon slid backwards along the road, skidding to a halt before the hooves of the pony with the rope. With a deft hop, the pony, a well-built orange earth pony mare dressed in the regulation slate gray vest of the Equestrian Army’s Military Police branch—and also wearing a very non-regulation brown stetson hat—cleared the snared hen and positioned herself directly in the path of the oncoming dragon. The earth pony’s emerald eyes flashed as she glared at the approaching combatant. While she took no other overtly aggressive action of her own, Twilight noticed the muscles of the mare’s hanches twitch with anticipation. She was prepared to kick. Hard. Whether it was because the dragoness recognized that this new challenger was prepared to counter her charge, or because the orange pony wasn’t who she had any interest in fighting, or simply because she judged the fight to be over now that the griffon was on the ground, the sapphire dragon ceased her advance and drew up well short of the pony. She looked far from totally mollified though. Her eyes remained narrowed, darting between the earth pony and the griffon beyond her, her nostrils flared in frustration. She flexed her talons, as if trying to wring the tension out of them. “Now Ah know y’all know better’n’t be fightin in mah streets. Don’t’cha?” The orange mare declared in a thick drawl. Her green eyes took note of the damage to the nearby tavern. Her muzzle pulled back in an annoyed sneer. “Ah’d ask how this all started, but we’ve been down that road b’fore. “Any y’all wanna try tellin’ me something novel this time around?” The orange earth pony’s emerald eyes darted between the dragon and the griffon. “Like the truth?” “It was just a misunderstanding, AJ,” the griffon hen said as she got back up. She deftly used a talon to snip the coil of rope off from around her hind leg. “As in: this dragon doesn’t understand that it doesn’t belong here.” She flashed a mirthless smile at the dragon. “They’re stupid like that. Something about their tiny lizard brains not being able to manage complex thought…” The dragoness snorted forcefully enough to expel a generous quantity of smoke as she jabbed a claw of her own at the feathered feline. “Must make you cat-birds pretty pathetic if us ‘dumb lizards’ kicked your tufted tails off our island so easily!” “We left on our own!” The griffon shot back almost immediately. “We got sick and tired of dealing with your lameness!” “Why you little—!” “Quiet down! Both of y’all!” The earth pony snarled, stomping her hoof for emphasis. Much to Twilight’s surprise, both creatures did, in fact, stop trading verbal bards. They still glowered at each other though. Each broke their stare long enough to meet the piercing gaze of the pony chastising them though, and looked mostly visibly cowed when they did. “Here’s what’s gonna happen: both y’all are gonna go back to your quarters. An’ that’s where y’all stay for the rest of the day. Later on tonight, one of my ponies is gonna stop by your quarters and give y’all ‘guides’ on what parts of the fort y’all can be in. See if’n we can avoid any more unpleasantness like this in the future.” The griffon’s chest puffed up as she glared at the mare. “Hey, you don’t get to tell me where I can and can’t go—!” “The alternative,” the earth pony continued on, fixing the griffon with a hard stare as she cut off the protest, “is that any time y’all are out an’ about, Ah’mma gonna be hoverin’ around you like a hungry parasprite.” A thin smile creased orange lips when the mare saw how little that prospect appeared to appeal to either creature. “Ah’ll sit on you two like a broodin’ chicken. Don’t think Ah won’t. “Ah’ll bring a whole entourage,” the mare gestured towards other ponies that were standing around the area forming a loose ring and keeping other creatures away from the scuffle. They were all wearing gray vests similar to that being worn by the orange mare. “Y’all like making a scene so much, figure you’d want an ‘audience’ around you at all times… “Or we can try it mah way?” Both creatures regarded each other once more in silence, glaring at each other. Finally, it was the dragon who relented first. “Okay, chief. We can try it your way. “For now.” It appeared that the earth pony mare didn’t particularly care for the caveat, and was about to rebuke the dragon further, but before she could, the dragon sneered at the griffon and added: “Gilda won’t be a problem forever.” The dragon stormed off, the other ponies on the security detail making room for her as she passed. At a subtle nod from their chief, a couple followed the dragon at a respectful distance. Behind the earth pony, the griffon snorted. “Fucking lizards. We should have just skinned them all and been done with it.” “Gilda…” The mare breathed out in an exasperated sigh. “Yeah, yeah,” the griffon said with a dismissive wave of her talons. “I’m going, AJ, I’m going. See you around.” Again, a couple of ponies trailed the griffon to ensure that she did as she’d been told. The orange mare took a deep breath and let out what sounded like a long-suffering sigh. Then something caught her attention by the tavern’s window. For a moment, Twilight thought it was herself, except that the purple unicorn noticed the earth pony was actually looking past where she was still laying, in the bar’s interior. “Sorry, AJ—” “Yeah, we’re really sorry about this, Applejack—” “—I tried to tell her we should go somewhere else, but—” “—doesn’t even like cider! I don’t know why she even—” “Bap-bap-bap-bap!” The earth pony mare cut off the pair of voices that were starting to talk over themselves to the point of incomprehension, holding up a staying hoof. “T’ain’t y’alls’ fault.” Her expression softened somewhat now. “But Ah appreciate it all the same. Thank you.” Then her eyes hardened slightly once more, though her tone wasn’t anywhere near as aggressive as it had been earlier. “Ah trust Ah can count on you two to make Single Malt whole on this?” Her hoof waved to take in the damage to the front of the building. “Yes, ma’am!” Both voices affirmed in unison. Finally able to tear her gaze away from the earth pony mare she’d just watch browbeat a griffon and a dragon, Twilight turned just in time to see another feathered and scaled duo—an entirely gray griffon and the smallest purple dragon that she’d ever seen—vanish deeper into the tavern. Presumably to go and compensate the owner for the damages that had been done to their business. Only now did the orange earth pony mare seem to take notice of the two unicorns near the tavern, her emerald eyes locking onto Rarity first. “Well howdy, major! Got yerself ringside accommodations for the latest dust-up, Ah see,” the security mare chuckled, eyeing how close the two were to the busted window. “Hm. Quite, yes,” Major Rarity grumbled as her magic collected Twilight’s hat, which had been knocked off again during the tumble she’d taken. The ivory unicorn used the restoration spell once more to mend the bill of the cap before returning it. The ivory unicorn was in the process of returning Twilight’s hat when she visibly balked, her sapphire eyes widening in concern as she regarded the other unicorn. “...Colonel, you’re bleeding.” It was Twilight’s turn to hesitate now. As though it had been waiting for somepony to point out its existence, only now did the smaller purple mare’s cheek blossom with pain. A reflexive application of a fetlock to the aching region revealed that, as the major had already announced, she was indeed bleeding. The wound wasn’t deep, and it was unlikely to be anywhere approaching life-threatening—certainly just a shallow cut from a shard of glass from the nearby broken window—but even minor lacerations to the face tended to produce a lot of bleeding. The “I’m fine” was automatic, and issued before Twilight had even confirmed the presence of the blood for herself. She’d seen combat. She’d seen what true wounds looked like. Those experiences served as the foundation for her opinion that any injury which didn’t consist of, at minimum, the complete loss of the limb, was a triviality not worth bringing attention to. At least when it concerned herself. The unicorn had certainly directed many subordinates to have even their minor injuries treated by medical personnel. She acknowledged the hypocrisy. She also dismissed it, just as she tried to dismiss the visible concern on the face of her new XO. “We should still get it looked at,” Rarity insisted. “Let’s get you to the clinic—” Twilight was already shaking her head. “It’s nothing,” she began in protest. “I’ve read your jacket, colonel. You possess a host of degrees and academic accomplishments. But I don’t recall seeing ‘doctor’ among them. You’ll forgive me for seeking the opinion of a professional,” the other unicorn said in the firm-yet-even tone an officer might use to admonish a subordinate who was doing something ill-advised. She ignored the narrowing eyes of her commanding officer in favor of summoning the orange earth pony to assist her in wrangling the purple unicorn. “Applejack? If you would be so kind as to have a few of your ponies take the colonel’s luggage to her quarters…” “Can do, major,” the head of security nodded before summoning some of her officers to collect the pair of trunks. She then took up a position on Twilight’s flank opposite the major. The clear intention there being to dissuade the colonel of any further argument about being escorted to the fort’s clinic. The orange mare flashed her new senior officer a broad grin. “Welcome to Ponyville, ma’am.” The purple mare allowed herself to be escorted from the scene of the fight even as she cast a parting glance at her trunks as they were hauled away. The sturdy earth pony security officers didn’t struggle with moving them nearly as much as the major had. She glanced back at the orange mare with a raised brow. “‘Ponyville’? I’ve seen the map of the fortress and the names of the districts. That’s not one of them.” “Not officially, no,” the other mare conceded with a shrug. “But that’s what everycreature in Harmony calls this part of the fort.” Her hoof was directed at a minotaur cow who was forced to duck down into a near squat in an effort to get through the front door of a shop they were trotting by. “Different shapes’n’sizes of creatures means different structure requirements. “To keep things lookin’ mostly orderly an’ such, the fortress got divided into areas where places are made to different scales. This part here where things’re about pony-sized gets called ‘Ponyville’. There’re a lot of creatures that live here other’n ponies though,” the earth pony went on with a nod towards a pair of donkeys trotting by. “It’s jus’ a name.” “Oh.” Twilight supposed that name was probably more palatable to the residents than the official designation of: Zone Two. “Just so you’re not caught off guard later,” Rarity chimed in from her other side, “the central tower where most of the Equestria Command delegation is quartered is known as: The Citadel.” She nodded her head in the direction of the fort’s largest spire, which also served as a lighthouse for the area’s sea traffic. Twilight nodded in acknowledgement before turning her attention to the orange mare once more. It only occurred to her now that, in all the commotion, some of the more common courtesies had been overlooked. If this mare was who Twilight suspected she was, then the purple unicorn had just met another member of her senior staff. “Am I right in assuming that you’re the fortress’ head of security? Captain Applejack?” “That Ah am, ma’am.” The green-eyed mare snapped briefly to attention and rendered a quick salute which Twilight briskly returned before relaxing her posture and once more resuming their trot through town. “At least on paper.” At the purple mare’s once again raised eyebrow, she elected to elaborate. “Well, y’see, colonel, most of the creatures around here, they ain’t military types.” Her head broadly nodded towards their general surroundings, and the clearly non-uniformed, non-military, beings walking the street around them. There were a few ponies in their duty uniforms, but they stuck out as the clear exception rather than the rule. “The idea of being ordered around by ‘soldiers’ ruffles fur’n’feathers alike. “So Ah kinda ‘unofficially’ rebranded my MPs as ‘constables’ and myself as a ‘Chief of Police’.” Applejack’s hoof touched her hat and a silver six-pointed star pinned to her uniform. “It don’t actually change nuthin’ o’course—Equestria Command makes the rules an’ we enforce ‘em—but folks around here are a lot more relaxed since we changed up the name an’ the image all the same.” “Seeing soldiers keeping order reminded ponies too much of what things were like during The War,” Major Rarity chimed in, earning a nod from Applejack. “Changing the name and tweaking the uniforms lets the civilians at least pretend this place uses a more traditional law enforcement apparatus.” This time the security chief did a brief turn as she walked to model off her modified duty uniform. While the colors were certainly those used by the army’s military police branch, the cut and style of the vest reminded Twilight of local policing uniforms back on the mainland. Not exactly regulation, the purple mare thought to herself, but there are provisions for ‘commander’s discretion’ when it comes to altering uniforms if the situation justifies it… “If either of you have some reports about how the change has affected fortress operations, I’d appreciate taking a look at them,” Twilight finally said. The other two nodded. Her eyes then darted back towards the direction of the damaged bar. “Now, while modifying uniforms is one thing, I have to say that I’m a little less inclined to agree with how you appear to be modifying enforcement of punishments for infractions. “That dragon and griffon were clearly fighting and they caused considerable damage to private property,” Twilight pointed out, turning her head to cast a pointed look at the earth pony. “That should have meant a minimum of three months confinement, civilians or not.” The colonel frowned. “And you just let them leave?” The pair exchanged glances before an exasperated sigh escaped from the earth pony. “Those two go at it at least once a week,” she said with a hint of frustration. “Ah tell’em to stay on opposite sides of the fort, but they always seem to wind up in the same place eventually and then, well…” She gave a helpless shrug. “You saw the results.” “Once a week?!” Twilight blurted. “Why haven’t you kicked them out of the fortress yet if they’re that much of an issue?” “We can’t, colonel,” Rarity sighed. “They have diplomatic privilege.” “Diplo—?!” Twilight bit off the furious outburst and let out the rest of it as a sigh of her own. If that was the case, then it really did mean that there wasn’t much that Captain Applejack or her MPs could do about the pair fighting. They certainly couldn’t be arrested or directly expelled by Equestrian personnel under local judicial statutes. It needed to be addressed through political channels. While Harmony Fortress was ‘neutral ground’, it was also officially Equestrian soil. As Twilight’s role on Harmony was to serve as both its commanding officer and the Equestrian government’s official representative—with full plenipotentiary powers—it meant that she had the final say on who could stay on the island and who must go. If she went directly to the ambassadors of the Griffon Imperial Republic and the Dragon Protectorate and issued a formal directive that those two troublemakers be sent back to their respective homelands, the missions from both nations would be obliged to follow it. There might be some minor political blowback, the purple unicorn conceded to herself. Official protests would be lodged against her back in Equestria, at the least. But Twilight wasn’t too concerned about that. She’d be able to justify the expulsion easily enough, especially if she included copies of Captain Applejack’s incident reports. “I’ll go and speak with their ambassadors and get them removed,” Twilight promised. Her subordinates exchanged another look. “Umm…” Rarity considered. “Well, y’see, colonel,” Applejack likewise struggled to form a full sentence. “The thing about that is…” Twilight looked between the pair as she awaited the reason for their perception of her stated course of action being problematic. What could the issue possibly be? Sure, maybe the ambassadors wouldn’t be happy about it, but it wasn’t like they could actually do anything to stop her from expelling those two— “They are the ambassadors,” Major Rarity finally managed to finish their shared thought, flashing her commander an apologetic smile. The purple unicorn came to a dead stop. Which prompted the other two to pause with her. For several long moments, all that she seemed to be able to do was blink at the other two ponies as her mind valiantly tried—and repeatedly failed—to accept the information which had just been provided to her. Those two vitriolic brawlers…were the ambassadors…of their respective races? And would be responsible for ensuring that peace endured between their nations? “...Oh.” The already daunting task that Twilight was facing suddenly felt even more so. “Yeah…” Applejack shrugged sympathetically. “Maybe the clinic isn’t a bad idea after all,” the purple unicorn conceded. “I’m feeling a headache coming on…” Applejack made her departure to return to her duties shortly after arriving at the fort’s primary clinic. The day’s events had left her with more than a few incident reports to write up, along with gathering the information on the uniforms that Twilight had requested. Rarity likewise excused herself from the clinic’s waiting room, citing her need to attend a briefing at The Citadel. She offered to stop by the quartermaster and pick up the replacement writing supplies that Twilight needed, as well as confirming that her baggage made it to her quarters safely. Twilight took her XO up on both offers and made arrangements for the two of them to meet first thing in the morning, along with the rest of the fortress’ department heads and senior staff. Twilight prepared to settle in for a long stay in the clinic’s waiting room, knowing that her injury was a fairly minor one and so she would likely be triaged as a rather low priority patient. However, the moment she stepped into the clinic, she discovered that it was empty, save for the white earth pony mare wearing a nurse’s cap sitting at the reception desk. The nurse perked up upon seeing Twilight enter. “Oh, hello! What brings you by—oh my!” The mare’s eyes locked onto the blood staining the purple unicorn’s cheek. “What happened?” She stood up from the desk and stepped up closer to examine the wound. “Just a cut from some broken glass. It’s nothing serious,” Twilight said with a dismissive wave of a hoof. “You can just get me some gauze and tape and I’ll get out of your mane. Oh, and maybe some aspirin too?” It was hard to tell if the earth pony hadn’t heard Twilight’s self-diagnosis, or if the nurse simply dismissed whatever patients merely thought was wrong with them out of professionally acquired habit. In any case, the mare elected to direct Twilight towards a nearby examination room. “I’ll go and fetch the doctor.” Twilight briefly entertained the notion of trying to fend off what she saw as an overreaction to such a minor injury once more, but ultimately relented. As minor as the injury was, it would doubtlessly be quicker to simply let the staff here treat it and send her on her way than it would be to continue to argue. So Twilight lay herself down on the exam bed and patiently waited for the doctor to arrive. If she hadn’t been looking at the door, the unicorn had to wonder if she’d have noticed the pegasus mare enter, as quiet as she was. A chiffon yellow face that was almost entirely obscured by the fall of a long pink mane poked in through the nudged open door. There was a brief moment where a singular sapphire iris met a pair of amethyst ones…and that was the only eye contact that Twilight was able to recall from the whole encounter. “Are you…the doctor?” The unicorn ventured. There was a prolonged moment of silence and lack of movement on the part of the other mare. Then, finally, there was a “...yes” which floated by, lofted by so few decibels that Twilight wondered if she should ask for an audiology exam in order to check herself for a sudden loss of hearing. The yellow mare slipped the rest of the way into the room. A long white coat obscured most of her body, though Twilight was able to pick out the pair of subtly twitching bulges to either side of the doctor’s body which suggested a pair of wings were tucked beneath it. A nameplate fastened to the coat read: ‘Fluttershy, M.D.’ The sole visible eye darted to Twilight’s cheek for only a moment, and then was looking anywhere other than her patient once more. Wordlessly, the chiffon pegasus stepped over to a cabinet and began to carefully extract supplies and tools. Twilight would be the first to admit that she wasn’t generally the most outgoing or social of ponies. She wasn’t the sort to host a party. She was barely the sort to attend a party, unless doing so was required due to her rank and position. As far as ‘small talk’ was concerned, the unicorn was having a difficult time recalling when she’d been the one to initiate it. Generally that was always done by another party, with Twilight offering the sorts of polite responses that were expected by social convention. In her experience, doctors were prone to initiating conversation during exams and treatments. Part of the ‘good bedside manner’ which was expected from those in their profession. She’d noticed that this was the case with nearly every medical profession. Dentists especially were prone to conversation while they had their hooves deep in their victim’s mouths—for reasons that Twilight still couldn’t fathom. Her working theory was that all dentists just liked to hear themselves ramble, with no actual desire to engage in true conversation with their patients. However, in the face of what was becoming a progressively ever more awkward lack of verbal exchange between two ponies in the same small room…Twilight conceded that, as uncharacteristic as it might seem, she was going to have to be the one to start up a conversation. “...So…” Her lack of prior expertise in the matter left her with few ready topics into which to delve and necessitated a pause to think of what the two of them could reasonably talk about. But…maybe she should look at this as an opportunity to further her knowledge about Harmony instead? That felt like a reasonable topic. “How are you liking Harmony Fortress so far?” The pegasus paused. “It’s…nice.” She resumed gathering her supplies and spread them out on the nearby counter. “...Turn your head, please.” Twilight obliged, offering her injured cheek to the mare, but also continued in her efforts to extort information from her. “‘Nice’…how? Do you like being around so many different creatures? It must be quite the experience treating so many different kinds of beings. Definitely something you couldn’t do back in Equestria,” Twilight reasoned. There wasn’t much of a non-pony population back home. For…obvious reasons. Gauze was dabbed at the wound, mopping up the drying blood and bringing the details of the injury into focus. “They’re…nice,” came the eventual response once the gauze was discarded. No further words were offered by the pegasus. It was still unclear to the purple unicorn if the compounded awkwardness she was feeling right now was because she was simply so inexperienced at initiating conversation, or if the onus here was on the physician. Still, she tried a valiant third attempt at getting words to flow in both directions for more than a single exchange. “Is it hard? Being so far from Equestria? Away from your family?” The single visible eye critically examined the laceration in silence. Then the pegasus fetched a cotton swab in her teeth and dabbed it into an open jar of some sort of balm. The swab was delicately brushed along the cut on Twilight’s cheek. Whatever it was stung a little when it met the wound and the unicorn winced slightly. When the doctor was done, she disposed of the swab. “It was…nice.” She fetched and applied a simple adhesive bandage over the injury before backing away and beginning the process of clearing away her supplies. “...I’m done. You can go, colonel.” Twilight cocked her head. Even though she recognized that she’d been freed of any presumed social obligation to converse, the fact remained that the doctor’s last answer had piqued her own curiosity. “‘Was’ nice? What changed?” If there was a problem on Harmony, then it was something that she could likely do something to address. The pegasus finished cleaning up the exam room. She didn’t turn back around to look at the purple mare. The bulges beneath her white coat trembled. “...please go.” Twilight was frowning now as she slipped off the examination bed. “Doctor, if something’s wrong, I need you to tell me. As the commander of this fortress, it’s my duty to address serious issues. “Is there a problem?” Her tone didn’t quite rise to that of a ‘demand’. The doctor wasn’t one of her officers; Twilight couldn’t give her any actual orders. However, as the commander of the fortress, she possessed a certain nominal executive power over every creature that lived and worked on the island. Much like the mayor of a town might. The chiffon pegasus winced, her head bowing low at the edge in Twilight’s words. Still no response came. “Doctor—” Then the unexpected happened: the yellow mare spoke. With both some measure of volume, and at length. Relatively speaking, anyway. The pegasus’ words were barely above a typical speaking voice, but they were the loudest she’d uttered thus far. There was also a firmness to them that almost compelled Twilight to stop talking and listen to the mare, who had turned and was now regarding the unicorn with both eyes. Eyes which possessed a strange sort of intensity. “I know who you are, Colonel Sparkle. So I also know what you’ve done.” The words contained no real vitriol. There was barely even anything which could reasonably be categorized as a ‘biting tone’ to them. From anypony else, they would have simply been regarded as calm and inoffensive statements. “You’re not…nice.” Yet, somehow, from the lips of that pegasus, that last line cut Twilight to her core. “I did what I had to do,” was the automatic defense, and perfectly echoed the recurring phrase she recited to herself on those nights when memory kept her from sleep. “We all do only what we choose to do.” Again the words contained no audible bite…and yet they rocked the unicorn regardless. “...I chose to leave.” The pegasus turned back towards the door. “Goodbye, colonel.” Then she was gone as quietly as she’d appeared. It was several minutes before Twilight was composed enough to leave the room. She was vaguely aware of the nurse at the front desk wishing her a good day. Twilight didn’t remember if she responded. Her mind was elsewhere as she trotted back through the fortress, heading broadly in the direction of the central spire, as she wasn’t yet familiar with the street layout of Harmony. It was a war. The survival of ponykind was on the line. It was us or them. I had a duty— A familiar flash of memory. A town that was there one moment…and gone in the next; leaving behind only a crater where it had once stood. Twilight had seen a recent map of the area. It was a lake now. Debatably, it also doubled as a graveyard of sorts. Equestria had given her a new medal. The zebras had given her a new name. Twilight cared for neither. …I did what I had to do. The purple unicorn was eventually able to wrestle those thoughts back into the deeper recesses of her mind, where she tended to keep them. By the time she had, Twilight realized that she was back in Ponyville. The spire of The Citadel wasn’t that much further off, and she even identified an avenue that looked like it would take her the rest of the way there. She took a few hoofsteps in that direction when something made her pause. Nostrils twitched. The mare inhaled deeply. Then she had to swallow back the saliva which threatened to drown her. Two weeks spent on a ship in the middle of the ocean had meant that Twilight had been removed from quite a lot in life which most ponies who spent their lives on land took for granted: stationary beds, proper bathrooms, space to trot around in to stretch her legs. But, perhaps most noticeably in this moment, the unicorn had also been deprived of the simplest of underappreciated ‘luxuries’: Fesh. Baked. Bread. Stale hardtack and drier-than-a-desert oat cakes might sustain life, but they didn’t in any way enrich it. It had been the better part of a month since the unicorn had been able to enjoy a decent slice of toast! Twilight didn’t even remember making her way to the baked goods stall in the market. She didn’t even remember seeing it until she was practically drooling over its wares, which consisted of more than simple bread, she soon discovered. There were muffins, cupcakes, and full cakes. Flaky croissants and fruity tarts. There were items that the unicorn didn’t even know the proper names for because they weren’t of Equestrian origin. They all had one quality in common though: they smelled amazing! “I’d ask if you see anything you like,” a mare that Twilight hadn’t even noticed until that moment lightly chuckled, “but I think I’m picking up on a few context clues…” The purple unicorn finally realized that her mouth was hanging open and slammed it close with an audible ‘clack’ of her teeth. She lightly flushed with embarrassment as she finally looked up towards the proprietor of the stall: a pink mare with an even pinker curly mane that skirted the line between apathetically unkempt and styled to a very particular taste. Her blue eyes were very nearly sparkling with amusement at the prospective customer who’d been on the cusp of glazing her wares with drool. “Sorry,” Twilight sheepishly offered the baker. “I just spent the last two weeks on a ship. The food…wasn’t the best,” she offered by way of understatement. The pink earth pony winced in sympathy. “Oof! I know how that is. Equestrian ship rations are the worst! Mostly it’s because they don’t have any cold storage aboard—wood’s not so good for that long-term and most captains don’t want to give up potential cargo space for an ice-box. After all, flour stores just fine on a ship so it’s hypothetically possible to bake fresh bread on a ship. Dried yeast and sugar keep for a long time too. But, any bread you bake with just that is barely worthy of being called ‘bread’ at all, in my opinion! “If you’re not using milk, then why bother baking bread at all? Just stick to the bardtack, I say!” The mare went on. As she spoke, her hooves were busy loading a selection of her wares into a basket. “And that’s where you run into problems: storing milk requires an ice-box. And you don’t find those on Equestrian ships. Griffon ships have them, but they don’t store milk in them. They’re mostly used for meat. “Zebra ships, on the other hoof,” the baker absently went on as she continued to pile goods into the basket, seeming to barely even be paying attention to what she was selecting, “they have whole walk-in freezers on some of their bigger cruisers! Proper cast-iron ovens too! Forget bread, you can throw together a proper three-tier cake aboard one of them! “Ask me how I know that!” Twilight very nearly missed the wink. The prompt snapped the purple mare out of her baked-goods-induced trance and she found herself looking directly at the baker once more. The mare was clearly a pony, and to the best of Twilight’s knowledge that meant that there was little to no possibility that she would have ever been aboard a zebra vessel. Certainly not a military vessel. Despite the existence of the peace treaty that now existed between their races, the zebras didn’t let Equestrians aboard their warships. “How do you know—?” The rest of the unicorn’s question was interrupted by the unexpected shoving of the overladen basket of baked goods into the mare’s chest which sent her falling onto her flanks with a grunt. Both hooves and magic desperately lanced out in an effort to keep the teetering spire of fresh treats from falling into the street. “Welcome to Harmony, colonel!” the now-obscured baker called out. “Enjoy this complimentary gift-basket. By which I mean that the contents of the basket are a gift, not the basket itself. I’m going to need that back, it was my mother’s. But you don’t need to give it back right now. Because you still need it to carry your gifts. “I’ll swing by and collect it later!” Twilight only half-heard the words, as she was far more focused on stabilizing the tower of treats that had been shoved at her by the pink mare. Once she was confident that her telekinesis had everything secured, the purple unicorn finally stood back up with this intent to confront the baker and get answers to the many questions that she now had. “Hold on! How do you know what’s on zebra ships?! I’m also not authorized to accept gifts valued at over a certain amount, and this…” Her eyes darted to the top of the stack of baked goods which somehow wasn’t collapsing under their own weight, “has to be over that amount.” It was certainly over the nearby building’s awning. Twilight shifted the basket and its contents out of her line of sight with the baker. “I have to pay you…for… “...Huh?” The baker wasn’t there anymore. While that initial realization was, in and of itself, a little puzzling; it paled in comparison to the second thing that Twilight noticed: the baker’s entire stall was no longer there. The counter and all of its goods had vanished. Twilight spent a brief moment reviewing her memory of the baker and confirming whether or not the pink mare’s curls might have possibly concealed a horn. She concluded that the baker had indeed been an earth pony. The unicorn glanced at a nearby stall and its proprietor, a donkey with a shabby black mop of a mane which, for some reason, struck Twilight as not sitting quite right upon his head. He was sitting amidst a series of shelves which displayed wigs and toupees. “Where did she go?” Twilight was answered with a light snore. Twilight frowned, noting that the dull brown donkey’s eyes were half-lidded and so reasoned that he might be intentionally ignoring her. “Sir. Sir.” The jack jerked with a start, smacking his lips noisily before glancing around his surroundings for the source of his nap’s disturbance. When his only slightly-wider pale blue gaze finally identified Twilight, they narrowed in annoyance. A hoof idly went to his head and adjusted the set of his mane. Which turned out to also be a—rather well-worn—toupee. “What do you want?” He grumbled. He took obvious note of Twilight’s mane and concluded that the mare was unlikely to be a prospective customer. “The pink mare who was right here,” Twilight pointed a hoof at the empty space beside the donkey’s stall. “The baker. Where did she go?” “What are you talking about?” “The baker,” she repeated, trying to keep her own annoyance from coloring her tone too much and further antagonizing the obviously quite annoyed donkey. “The one who was right here not two minutes ago: where did she go?” “Lady, I’ve been here all day; there was no baker,” he insisted. “This isn’t even the food section of the market. If you want baked goods, then you have to go over there!” He elaborated his point by jabbing a hoof to his right. Twilight followed the direction he was pointing in and saw that, indeed, it appeared that the stalls which sold food were all clustered into their own section of the open air market. All of the other stalls and stands around her appeared to only be peddling in non-edible wares. “And what do you need a baker for anyway? How many more bread rolls do you need?” The donkey further snorted, eyeing the swaying tower of tarts Twilight was holding in her magic. “No, I don’t need a baker,” Twilight countered, some of her frustration creeping into her words now. “I’m looking for the baker who was right here—” “And I already told you this isn’t where food vendors are allowed to set up,” the donkey snapped back. “So if you want more bread, go over there!” His hoof was up and pointing again, this time singling out a stall which had a pair of earth ponies standing in it, a gangling yellow stallion and a squat blue mare. “Now, if you’re not going to buy anything from me, scram!” He snorted and rearranged himself back into the napping pose he’d originally been in. Twilight clamped her mouth shut against the temptation to get into a verbal altercation with the mule. It wouldn’t be productive. Instead, she cast one last glance around the market, reasoning that the pink-on-pink mare would be rather easy to spot if she were in the area. The fact that her search proved entirely fruitless suggested that the baker had indeed managed to make a clean escape. Somehow. With a heavy sigh, Twilight resigned herself to the fact that her questions would remain unanswered…and that she was in possession of a regulation-breaking gift. On the other hoof, it was unlikely that the disappeared mare was trying to curry any favor with her, so maybe there was some wiggle-room to be had. Plus…maybe it only really counted if the ‘gift’ endured for a protracted length of time? Twilight floated down a cupcake and began to dispose of the evidence of her possible impropriety. She’d put hardly any kind of dent into the tower by the time she reached The Citadel. To further aid in her efforts to erode the basket’s contents, Twilight tipped the helpful pegasus guard at the door who informed her which floor her quarters were on with an apple pie. The two guards sitting at the desk in the tower’s lobby likewise received muffins for their revelation that her possessions had been transported up to her room. A fourth pegasus guard who offered to carry up her delivery from the quartermaster was compensated with a strawberry torte. A quick trot up the two flights of stairs brought the purple unicorn to her apartment, for that was pretty much what it was. Twilight came as close as she dared to overburdening the pegasus who’d walked with her with approximately half the remaining contents of the basket, directing him to deliver them to the enlisted barracks with her compliments. Twilight predicted that she was well on her way to becoming Harmony’s most popular commander. True, as the fortress’ first commander, she was going to hold that title regardless of the objective level of regard with which her ponies held her. Still, as with most aspects of her tenure on the island, Twilight’s intent was to set a high bar in nearly all aspects of her command. One which her eventual replacement would be motivated to maintain, if only so that they didn’t come off as looking incompetent by comparison. The door closed behind the grunting pegasus, leaving Twilight alone in her suite of rooms. ‘Rank has its privileges’. Twilight had entered her service during the war as an officer, due to her family’s—nominal—nobility and a range of higher education degrees which she’d possessed at the time. Even during a war which was quite quickly growing ever more desperate, that had garnered her better rations and quarters—which mostly meant actually having quarters at times. As a major in Canterlot, this had meant having a modest two-room suite with a private bathroom. Her promotion to colonel wouldn’t really have seen her getting accommodations which were much better, assuming she was given new quarters at all. However, as the de facto governor of the island, as well as Equestria’s official representative to the other races while on Harmony, her position qualified her for more than merely a decent sized bedroom and private washroom. Since there was the expectation that she might need to host official visitors from other nations for dinners and parties, Twilight had been provided with a dining room, a separate den, and even a parlor. They were, by far, the nicest living accommodations that Twilight had known in…a long time. Her two trunks had been deposited in the den. Glancing around, it was clear to Twilight that she was going to need to make some trips to the fortress’ markets to buy…well: stuff. Otherwise, her accommodations were going to look embarrassingly spartan in the event that she did end up hosting one of the island’s other dignitaries for an evening. But that could wait. While it wasn’t really all that late, the voyage aboard the Lickity hadn’t afforded the unicorn much in the way of restful sleep. Retiring early seemed like a good idea. Before she could sleep though, there was still one piece of business that she needed to see to. Twilight opened up the chest which contained her personal possessions and sifted through them with her telekinesis until she found what she was looking for. Carefully extracting the items, the purple unicorn made her way into the parlor, which was positioned near the outer wall of the fort’s central spire, and had access to a balcony through a pair of large glass doors. She didn’t go outside though. The window beside the exterior door would suffice for her needs. The mare cleared off a small end table and moved it closer to the window. Upon it, she deposited the pair of objects that she’d retrieved from her chest: a picture frame and a lantern. A brief charge of magic was enough to illuminate the small gemstone nestled at the heart of the lantern, and it immediately began to glow with soft yellow light. Twilight spared a moment to appreciate the perhaps comically redundant nature of her little lantern when compared to the much larger and brighter bona fide lighthouse which existed at the peak of the spire she was presently in. She wasn’t intending to use it to guide the near constant convoy of ships which streamed into and out of Harmony’s ports at all hours of the night and day. She was concerned with only a singular ship. Most of her knew that it wasn’t ever going to appreciate the lantern’s existence. It couldn’t. Anymore… The second item she erected on the table near the window was a frame that contained a faded daguerreotype. The subject of the image was a unicorn stallion. It wouldn’t have been immediately obvious to most observers when they looked at the picture, thanks to its limitation to black and sepia tones, but when Twilight looked at the stallion, she could vividly make out his two-toned blue mane and white coat. His kind blue eyes that had looked upon her with love the last time they’d seen each other… Time had passed since she’d received the news. The ache of loss hadn’t faded all that much. She returned the image’s static smile for a few lingering moments before tearing herself away from the reestablished memorial and finally heading off to get some rest. Her first hours in Harmony had certainly left an impact on the mare—literally. The morning would see whether or not Twilight could leave a lasting impact on it… Author's Note Get it? The title's a pun! As always, a thumbs up and comment are always greatly appreciated If you like the cover art and want to see more stories get them, I've set up a Cover Art Fund if you're interested and have any bits lying around! Chapter 2: The GatheringTwilight’s first night on Harmony was not the most restful she’d had in her life, but it was a far sight better than the nights she’d previously spent aboard the sea-tossed Lickity to get here. Waking up without a strong urge to vomit into a bucket was certainly a pleasant change of pace. However, it wasn’t until the mare stepped into her private washroom and discovered that it possessed an overhead shower which was connected to a cistern of heated water that she rediscovered what she’d missed most about being on land: feeling truly clean. There had been opportunities to bathe aboard the ship, of course. However, with fresh water being at a premium and far too precious to waste on anything other than drinking or food preparation, the only option for use to clean pony bodies had been saltwater from the surrounding ocean. Twilight had felt that replacing the dirt and grime saturating her coat with salt had been a marginal improvement, at best. Soap had been available, of course, but soap eventually had to be rinsed out with water. And when said water was composed of salt and algae… Thirty minutes later, Twilight was finally chased out of the shower by the loss of hot water. The mare was sure that she’d feel some lingering guilt about using all of it up if she later found out that other ponies relied on the same source for their own washing, but until that moment came, the thoroughly refreshed unicorn was too enraptured by the feeling of cleanliness to particularly care. She dried herself off, brushed out her mane and tail, and took care of the rest of the hygiene regiment that had been far harder to maintain aboard ship—the only thing more unpleasant than washing with seawater had been brushing her teeth with it—before finally leaving the bathroom. Breaking her fast with a blueberry muffin that had managed to maintain its moistness over the evening instead of a stale oat cake only further improved the unicorn’s outlook on how her first full day on Harmony was likely to turn out. A fresh uniform and saddle bags loaded with the parchment, ink, and quills that Major Rarity had requested for her from the quartermaster—along with a couple additional cupcakes for snacking—saw her out the door of her suite and ascending up to the administrative levels of The Citadel. A passing pony was helpful enough to point Twilight in the direction of the conference room which the fortress’ command staff regularly used for their meetings. Unsurprisingly, the purple unicorn was the first to arrive. This was because she was considerably early as a consequence of her going to sleep well before nightfall. It was also a little by design. Twilight still had yet to recreate the notes that she’d made which had been lost to the unexpected tidal wave, to say nothing of jotting down her thoughts on later revelations. Foremost among them was going to be reaching out to the governments of the griffons and dragons about their ambassadors and how disruptive they were being to Harmony—Twilight allowed her lip to quirk up at the double-meaning. She recognized that her request for replacements was very likely to be immediately dismissed, but there was nothing to lose by at least trying. Twilight was jotting down her last note regarding tracking down the pink earth pony baker so that she could pay for the baked goods when the ponies whom the colonel presumed constituted her ‘command staff’ finally filed in, mostly all at once. Major Rarity led the procession, raising a mildly surprised brow in the purple unicorn’s direction when she spotted her new CO seating at the head of the room’s conference table. Her eyes lingered on the plethora of parchment sprawled out on the one end of the table. On her hocks followed Captain Applejack, who likewise briefly cocked her head at Twilight’s appearance before nodding and taking her place at the table. Much to Twilight’s surprise, after the orange earth pony was the chiffon pegasus who’d treated her at the clinic. This surprise was compounded by the fact that the pegasus was not wearing her white doctor’s coat this time, but instead sported the same deep blue duty uniform that Twilight and Rarity were wearing. The only glaring difference being the crimson tabs at her shoulders which identified the pegasus as being a part of the Equestrian militaries Medical Corps. Twilight was similarly shocked to see that ‘Doctor’ Fluttershy was actually Major Fluttershy. A single blue eye briefly glanced in the unicorn’s direction before looking back straight ahead as the physician took her own seat at the table. One that was as far as possible from Twilight. The purple mare suppressed a sigh. The two of them had clearly gotten off on the wrong hoof, and Twilight wasn’t sure what could be done to change that. However, the two of them didn’t have to like each other to work together. She hoped. “Are we waiting on anypony else?” Twilight asked her executive officer. The ivory unicorn nodded, “Actually, colonel, there is one more pony. As it’s just about time for the eight o’clock perimeter sweep, I suspect she’ll be here—” The mare abruptly stopped, her head cocking slightly to the side as an ear turned. It took a couple of seconds for Twilight to realize that the other unicorn was listening to the ringing of the fortress’ bell tower as it announced the arrival of eight o’clock in the morning. “—shortly.” Twilight frowned, wondering what the mare meant by that. She was about to ask when the resounding gongs of the clock tower were joined by a faint rumbling reminiscent of thunder. However, an earlier glance out of a window on her way to the conference room had assured Twilight that the weather that day was going to be clear and cloudless. So there shouldn’t have been any thundering storm clouds anywhere near the fortress. Just before the bell rang its final toll, a microburst of wind suddenly blew into the room. Twilight reflexively threw up a protective ward as she recoiled from the table. None of the other ponies reacted to the unexpected squall in the room though. If anything, their expressions were resigned as they set about resetting their manes and tails. As suddenly as it had begun, the maelstrom was over with. In its wake it left Twilight’s notes scattered throughout the room, and a new pony slumped over the table with a bored expression on her face. The cerulean blue pegasus mare sported a mane which came in the full colors of the rainbow, which would be out of regulations if the look was achieved through dyeing. Though largely unkempt, the style of it was—barely—permissible. The same went for the state of her sage green flight suit, which identified her as belonging to the military’s Air Corps. Twilight dropped her ward. Then reached out with her telekinesis to retrieve her notes, reorganizing them back onto the table. All the while her narrowed purple eyes didn’t leave the yawning new arrival. “...Captain Rainbow Dash, I presume?” The mention of her name prompted the pegasus to perk up and look at the purple unicorn. “You’ve heard of me?” Her expression quickly assumed a satisfied smirk as the captain set about giving her hoof a faux polish on the front of her uniform. “Well, of course you must’ve heard of me,” she decided in a tone that Twilight believed could only be described as: narcissistic. “I’m only the best flier in the whole world! “A reputation like that’s bound to get around.” There was a lot that Twilight wanted to say by way of comment on that. However, in the interest of maintaining a properly professional decorum at her first official meeting with the ponies she’d be working with during her tenure at Harmony Fortress, the unicorn elected to keep those thoughts to herself. For now. Those thoughts would undoubtedly find form in the world when she was writing up the pegasus captain’s annual review… Until then, however, “I’d like to start out this meeting by first thanking all of you for attending on such short notice. I don’t know your normal schedules, so I apologize if this encroached on your other duties.” Her eyes darted briefly to the blue pegasus. Twilight made a note to host future briefings like this well after eight o’clock. Assuming she didn’t reorganize the perimeter sweep schedule instead. “I realize that I’ve met most of you already,” Twilight continued, briefly noting the two mares in the room that she hadn’t seen in the flesh, “but this is our first formal meeting, and so proper introductions are in order. “I’m Colonel Twilight Sparkle. As of midnight this morning, per my orders from Equestria Command,” her magic lanced out and retrieved a short stack of papers. Each of the other ponies received a copy, “I am assuming command and governorship of Harmony Fortress.” Rarity and Applejack both gave their copies of the order a cursory glance. The two pegasi didn’t bother to look at their copies at all. Fluttershy had yet to make any additional eye contact with Twilight since she’d entered, and Rainbow Dash had apparently found some aspect of one of the pocket flaps on her flight suit more engrossing than Twilight’s speech. Twilight endeavored to ignore being ignored. “Now I’d like to get to know all of you a little. So if all of you would care to introduce yourselves and tell me a little about you? Major, would you start us off?” She nodded towards the other unicorn. Rarity nodded. “Of course, ma’am. I’m Major Rarity, Chief of Operations. I’ll also be serving as your executive officer, assuming you’ll have me.” There was a hint of a question in the mare’s tone, to which Twilight offered a nod of confirmation. Certainly for the time being. Twilight hardly knew enough about either this mare or Harmony’s other officers to go about reassigning ponies right off the bat. “I’ve been managing Harmony for the last eight months, overseeing final construction and its being opened for formal occupation. “Prior to this assignment, I served in Canterlot on General Firefly’s staff. I have a letter of recommendation from her, if you’d like to see it, colonel?” “Thank you, major, but that won’t be necessary,” Twilight assured the other unicorn. “I know the general. If she had you working for her, then that already speaks volumes about you in my book.” She flashed her XO a smile of her own. “I look forward to working with you.” Rarity inclined her head politely before all attention turned to Applejack. “Cap’n Applejack, colonel,” the orange earth pony announced, “Harmony’s Chief of Security. Born ‘n raised in Dodge Junction. Back when there was a Dodge Junction. Was working as a deputy there before The War,” the mare added in a sober tone. The whole room was quiet for several seconds as the gathered ponies allowed a moment of silent respect in remembrance of one of Equestria’s—many—cities which had not survived the confrontation with the zebras. At least it was just reduced to rubble and not turned into a lake. It’s being rebuilt. “Been on Harmony since they set down the first stone,” she resumed. “Ain’t nopony here who knows this place better’n me, colonel. An’that includes most of the creatures in it.” Twilight nodded. “I recall our conversation yesterday.” There was a hint of a frown as the unicorn recalled the witnessed confrontation between the two ambassadors. She also recalled how Applejack had managed to defuse the situation. “You’re very good at your job.” The freckled face broke out into a broad smile. “Well thank ya kindly, colonel!” Harmony’s new commander turned her attention down the table to the next pony in line: Fluttershy. She waited to see if the major would need to be prompted to speak with her or not. “...Doctor Fluttershy. Chief of Personnel and head of MedOps.” The tone had been as calm and inoffensive as it had been quiet. Nothing further was offered. Twilight once more suppressed a sigh and prompted, “and before Harmony, where were you assigned?” She almost missed the furtive looks exchanged between Applejack and Rarity, as well as the soft response from the yellow pegasus. “...Fetlock.” The purple unicorn blinked in mild surprise. She immediately recognized the name: Camp Fetlock—which went by the formal title of: Camp Fetlock Disciplinary Paddock—served primarily as a place to house members of the Equestrian military who’d violated laws and regulations to such a degree as to warrant punitive confinement. Twilight waited for elaboration to follow the physician’s admission. When it did not, she prompted again, “...as part of its medical staff?” Every other pony seated at the table shifted uncomfortably in their seats, to include Rainbow Dash. Fluttershy did not. “...No.” There were a dozen or more follow-up questions that Twilight wanted to ask of the mare. However, she recognized that, in front of the rest of her senior officers, was not the place to do it. Twilight would pull the doctor’s file and review her service history in private. Then, if she still had any pressing concerns, she’d arrange for a one-on-one meeting. For the moment, the unicorn was prepared to assume that the ponies in charge of picking out Harmony’s staff had known what they were doing. Lest Twilight be placed in a position where she might have to question whether those same ponies had been thinking straight when they assigned her here too… “Captain Rainbow Dash,” Twilight not-so-expertly redirected, “I understand you’re the leader of Wonderbolt Squadron?” The cerulean pegasus deigned to stop fidgeting with her uniform long enough to address her new CO. “I’m in charge of all of Harmony’s air wings,” the flier clarified. “But I do lead Wonderbolt Squadron personally. They’re the best, so they deserve to have the best flight lead!” The mare was grinning now. “I see. And your prior assignment?” “I don’t have one,” Rainbow admitted, though her smile barely faltered. “This is my first gig.” Twilight blinked again. “You’re fresh out of Flight School?” The pegasus nodded, still beaming. The unicorn’s eyes darted to the silver horseshoe on the flight suit’s collar so that she could confirm the rank that was there. “...And they made you a captain? And gave you…” Twilight consulted her notes. “Four flights to command?” The pegasus could not have looked more self-satisfied as she straightened up and once more made a show of polishing her hoof on her uniform. “What can I say? I’m just that good!” “Ma’am.” “Huh?” Twilight narrowed her eyes at the prismatic-maned mare. “You are speaking with an officer of higher rank and your commander,” the unicorn pointed out to the flier. “You are in the military, you are an officer, you are aware of the customs and courtesies regulations dictate. “Thus, you will—at least occasionally—address me by either ‘colonel’ or ‘ma’am’ when we’re speaking. “Is that clear, Captain Rainbow Dash?” The pegasus ceased to ‘polish’ her hoof and returned Twilight’s narrowed gaze with a slight glare of her own. For a long while, no words were exchanged as the two ponies regarded each other. Eventually, the junior officer relented, lowering herself back to her seat. “...Yeah. Ma’am.” This time Twilight elected not to suppress the sigh that refused to be contained any longer. It wasn’t the worst command staff that she’d ever encountered. She at least appeared to have genuinely competent ponies to work with—that, in and of itself, was actually something of a minor miracle in the military. At the end of the day, the purple mare supposed that was what mattered most: that she had ponies who could do their jobs. It would have been preferred that she could get along with them on a personal level, but that was really more of a luxury than a requirement as far as Twilight was concerned. She could make this work. If, down the road, it turned out that this assumption on her part had been mistaken, then it was within her power as Harmony’s commander to make staffing changes anyway. Twilight took a deep breath and let it out slowly before addressing all four officers. “I would like SITREPS from each of your departments on my desk by tomorrow evening, along with copies of the last six months of status reports. I need to know where your departments stand right now, along with what you’ve been having to deal with. Part of my responsibility to you, as your commander, is to make sure that all of you have the resources and ponypower to do your jobs effectively. To do that, I need to know what sort of demands you’re facing in the course of normal operations. “Additionally,” Twilight’s full attention was on Rarity now, “major, I understand that you’ve been filling in as Equestria’s representative pro tem during council meetings until I arrived?” “Yes, ma’am,” the other unicorn nodded. “I’ve mostly been taking notes, as I was not given any authority to cast votes on motions before the Council.” “I’d like the minutes from the last few meetings by the end of the day, along with the agenda for the next meeting.” A thought occurred to Twilight. “When is the next meeting?” “One o’clock, ma’am.” The purple mare blinked. “One o’clock...today?” “Yes, ma’am.” Twilight closed her eyes in a deep wince. “...I’ll need those meeting minutes before ten,” she amended. The smile which touched Rarity’s muzzle was sympathetic. “I’ll get them as soon as we’re done here, colonel.” “Thank you. “I didn’t really have that much that I wanted to say to all of you,” Twilight admitted to the group. “This was just about formal introductions; putting faces to duties. And now I’ll let you get back to those duties. “Apologies if the timing of this cut into your normal schedules,” she went on, trying not to look too pointedly at Rainbow Dash. “I’m happy to hold our next staff meeting at a time that’s more convenient for everypony.” This earned her a nod from everypony, even Fluttershy. “You’re all dismissed.” The other four ponies all stood up and started to make their way towards the door. “Captain Applejack?” The orange earth pony paused and looked back towards Twilight with a raised eyebrow. “If you could, I’d like you to track somepony down for me.” The other brow rose to unite with its partner. “Y’all didn’t waste no time in puttin’ together a ‘hit list’, huh, colonel?” “What? No! A pony in the market gave me a huge basket of baked goods yesterday. Per regulations, I can’t accept gifts over a certain value, so I need to pay her, but she ran off before I could,” Twilight explained. “You said you knew just about every creature on the island. “Could you get me her address so I can send over payment?” Applejack shrugged, “Can’t see why not. Ah assume y’ain’t got a name?” The unicorn shook her head. “Figured. Ah can probably make a description work, ma’am. Hit me.” “Pink earth pony mare, pinker curly mane, blue eyes. About our age, I’d say.” Twilight tried not to lick her lips too visibly as she said the next part. “Extremely skilled baker. You can probably find her by following your nose, honestly.” Twilight resolved to eat one of the cupcakes that was calling to her from her saddlebag as a second late breakfast. Applejack was frowning now. “Ah know the bakers on the island. That ain’t one Ah recognize,” she admitted. “Could be a new arrival,” the security chief added with a shrug. “I’ll ask around and let you know what I find, ma’am.” “Thank you, captain. Dismissed,” Twilight repeated, finally excusing the mare she’d held back. She then gathered her papers and left the conference room as well, heading back towards her quarters. She’d hoped to be afforded a chance to settle into her new office that morning, but apparently she was going to need to spend every moment she had today preparing for her inaugural Council meeting. With just a little over four hours to prepare, Twilight was hoping that the day’s agenda was going to be a light one… Twilight resolved to eat a real meal at some point. Ideally, some proper vegetables would probably go a long way towards settling her down. Grilled with some light oil and seasoning. Pepper, a pinch of salt, a little rosemary… That would be nice. Or it would have been, if she’d actually had the time to spare to head down to the dining facility. Or head out into the civilian quarter to visit a cafe or restaurant. She didn’t. Not with her first meeting with the Council looming just over the horizon. Twilight had too much to review if she didn’t want to outright embarrass Equestria on the diplomatic stage. So, instead, she made do with eating half of a rhubarb pie while she skimmed through her copy of The Practice of Diplomacy. Even for her, giving the better part of two hundred pages of Prances Chevalier's preeminent text on negotiation a proper read-through wasn’t feasible. To say nothing about digesting the information and ruminating on how best to put it into practice. The best that the unicorn could hope to do was skim a few key points and hope that they provided her with something of a foundation to work with— A knock at the door produced a wince from the purple mare. She’d been working very hard not to watch the time too closely, lest seeing the appropriate hour grow nearer make her too anxious to concentrate on her reading. She had asked for Major Rarity to come and fetch her when it was time to go. Then she’d hung a ‘Do Not Disturb’ sign outside of her office. Which meant that the knocking was probably coming from only one pony, and they were here for only one reason. “Colonel?” The now familiar high society accent of her executive officer managed to make its way through the door. “The Council will be starting in fifteen minutes.” Which means that I’m already late, for all intents and purposes, Twilight internally acknowledged. She wasn’t just Equestria’s representative in the meeting. Harmony Fortress was the host of the diplomatic missions for the other governments, and since this island was technically ‘Equestrian soil’, that meant that Twilight was expected to officiate the Council meetings. She should already be there, greeting the other ambassadors as they arrived. ‘...making a favorable impression on those around her…’ According to the book Twilight was skimming, that was an important quality for a good negotiator. If she was late, that was going to be harder to accomplish. “Coming,” the unicorn said, getting up from behind her desk and trotting to the door. She grabbed her saddlebags with her telekinesis and threw them over her back. Rarity was standing in the hallway, a sheaf of paper held aloft in her own shimmering blue field. She passed it to the other unicorn and the two began to trot briskly towards the large meeting hall which hosted the Council’s negotiations. “The agenda for today’s meeting,” the major informed her. Twilight floated the piece of paper in front of her, relying on her XO to guide her away from running anypony else over as they traveled. “Minosian-Saddle Arabian territorial water dispute…Equestrian-Mulenese wheat tariffs…” The purple mare raised a curious brow as she glanced at the other unicorn walking with her. “‘Other business’, submitted by Ambassador Ember? What does that mean?” “‘Trouble’, more likely than not,” Rarity said under her breath, flashing a mirthless smile in her commander’s direction. “A dragon flew in yesterday morning carrying a diplomatic pouch. One of those big ones—the dragon, not the pouch. Long distance flier. Probably came here directly from the Dragon Lands.” Twilight nodded, aware that some of the larger proper wyrms were quite easily capable of crossing the ocean without needing to land for dozens of hours. “Another flew in after sunset,” Rarity went on. “Given that Ember only added that last item this morning, I can only assume that whatever ‘business’ she wishes to bring before the Council has to be related to those. “Incidentally, a ship from the Griffonian Republic arrived at the Mission Docks a couple of hours ago,” Rarity added. “Steam paddled and schooner rigged.” The last was said while casting Twilight a knowing eye. The purple mare frowned thoughtfully. While not quite on the same technological footing as the zebras, the griffons were still ahead of ponies. Their ships were mostly still made of wood, but they were no longer strictly bound to the fickle nature of the wind when crossing the seas. They’d found a way to harness burning coal in order to make their ships move even in the midst of a calm. Or even outright against the direction of the wind. However, unlike what the zebras could manage, Twilight’s understanding was that griffon ships which exclusively used such methods of locomotion were a little slower than an expertly-handled galleon of a comparable size. And they could only carry so much coal besides. So their ships still possessed sails. But…a griffon ship which caught favorable winds while employing both their sails and their coal-fired propulsion was capable of achieving great speeds. These ships generally carried extremely urgent messages. While it was certainly possible that the dragons and griffons just happened to be exchanging missives on time-sensitive matters which had nothing to do with each other…It was also ‘possible’ that her brother would show up at the Harmony docks alive and well. Twilight quickly crunched the numbers on the odds and determined that the latter was more probable to occur. She didn’t like this. “Find Applejack; I want extra guards posted near the Council Chambers,” the purple unicorn said. “Not in the room,” she added by way of clarification, “just nearby. In case the negotiations get…” Twilight grasped around for a suitably ‘diplomatic’ way of framing things. “Heated?” Rarity offered. “Exactly.” Given that a dragon was involved, Twilight hoped that she could keep anything from getting ‘heated’, be it the negotiations…or the negotiators. They finally arrived at the entrance to the Council Chambers. “I’ll go and find Applejack,” said Rarity. “Good luck, colonel.” “Thank you, major,” Twilight replied with a sigh. “I’ll probably need it…” The Citadel’s Council Chambers were probably one of the larger singular rooms on the island—unless there was a theater that she wasn’t aware of. They had to be, as they needed to host official delegations from all of the world’s nations. And some of those delegations came in quite significant sizes, like the minotaurs. Even when that wasn’t the case, when a race wasn’t particularly large in size themselves, it would do to issue the perceived slight by granting them substantially less space than most of the others. Twilight kept herself from staring too long at the breezy delegation’s table. Which was smaller than the book that she’d been reading in her office…which was in turn sitting upon another table of a more typical size. “Colonel Sparkle,” Twilight turned at the sound of the lightly accented voice and found herself looking into a pair of turquoise eyes— The tensing of her muscles was reflexive. Still. Ponies and zebras had been at peace with each other for longer than they’d been at war, but even after ten years, it seemed that some habits refused to die easily. “—I am grateful to see that you made it to Harmony Fortress safely…” It took Twilight a few seconds to force herself to relax. She even managed to get something approaching a smile to spread across her lips as she regarded the zebra mare standing before her. Twilight wasn’t a great judge of age when it came to members of many of the other races, but she at least presumed that the striped mare was older than herself. She was wearing a soft blue dress that seemed to wrap around her barrel. Large golden bangles hung from her lofted ears, framing a black and white striped mane which rose straight up above her head and down the nape of her neck, reminding Twilight somewhat of the fin on the back of a fish. Or a shark… The purple mare mentally brushed aside the unkind thought. Zebras and ponies were allies. Now. For some reason. Those eyes… “Have we met?” Twilight asked. Her words sounded abrupt even to her own ears, perhaps even a little rude in tone in a setting like this. She made an attempt at some sort of recovery. “You seem familiar, is all.” The striped mare maintained her polite smile, not seeming the least bit put off by the unicorn. “I am certain that the two of us have never been formally introduced before, colonel. Perhaps you met a zebra who resembles me? “Not to cast aspersions on you, personally, but it has been my observation that one zebra looks much like another to most ponies.” There was nothing particularly biting about the zebra’s observation. “Something about our monochrome appearance when compared to the more pastel of the average pony.” It struck Twilight as more of an explanation than a veiled insult. Twilight took the offered ‘out’ and nodded. “I’m sure you’re right. I’m sorry if I offended you, Ambassador…?” The unicorn was mostly guessing at the title. More than half the creatures in the room at the moment were either an ambassador or a consul-general—depending on how much importance the represented nation placed on Harmony’s mission. “Zecora,” she answered with a slight incline of her head. When she straightened back up, she gestured around the steadily filling room. Her hoof eventually settled on the table at the front of the chamber where the so-called ‘Major Powers’ would be hosted during the meeting. “Have you had an opportunity to meet the other delegates?” The purple mare recalled her ‘encounter’ with the ambassadors from the griffons and dragon yesterday and was in the process of coming up with a sarcastic quip regarding that point when she suddenly found herself at a loss for words. Twilight had just caught sight of the last thus-far-unaccounted-for ambassador who would be sitting in with the other Major Powers. There was a lot that went into the determination by the international community as to what it was that constituted a nation being a ‘major’ power. After all, the implication was that any race which was not counted among that number was a de facto minor power—and few wished to voluntarily claim such a title for themselves. However, political grandstanding aside, there was an acknowledgement that some nations were simply ‘greater’ than others by some metric. With the griffons, it was the sheer size of their empire—they could insist that it was a ‘republic’ all they wanted. It was nearly impossible to find a land mass of significant size which didn’t host at least one griffon settlement. Where they couldn’t find open land to build on that wasn’t already occupied, they would use their force of arms to create ‘newly opened’ land to build on. This expansion had slowed down in the last century or so, but that still left The Griffonian Republic with one of the largest—in terms of land area—nations in the world. It was hard for any creature to contest that they weren’t a ‘major power’. Their longtime rivals, the dragons, were another easy contender for the title. While their own nation had relatively recently been directly subordinate to the griffons, the fact that they’d thrown out such a powerful occupier where most others couldn’t had caught the attention of the world. They weren’t as technologically advanced as most races, and their country consisted of little more than the island of their origin, but they were the undisputed most physically powerful of all the other races in the world—with perhaps a single exception. You didn’t easily tell a dragon ‘no’ when they asked to sit somewhere. Even when that ‘somewhere’ was at the head table in the Council Chambers. The zebras had been an uncontested addition as well. Their Commonwealth might not have been as expansive as the griffon republic’s, and they might not have been much physically tougher than the average pony, but their technology… There wasn’t a race on the planet that was dumb enough to pick a fight with the zebras—not even the griffons tried to muscle the zebras off their land. Well, there weren’t any races who were that dumb anymore anyway, Twilight amended with a bitter thought. There were boxes that could be checked when it came to deciding what made a race a ‘major power’. The size of their nation. The raw power of the creatures in question. The sophistication of their technology. Their raw magical potency. Colonel Twilight Sparkle had never seen an alicorn before; but that didn’t stop her from immediately recognizing the towering white mare as being one. The descriptions she’d heard—at least, the ones that she’d deemed to be reasonably reliable—didn’t do her appearance justice. The alicorn was tall—taller than any equine that Twilight had ever seen. At a glance she had a mane and tail, but the unicorn questioned whether or not those were the proper terminologies to use when trying to describe the billowing ethereal masses of soft pastel hues which flowed around her body as if being constantly subjected to a breeze which no other could feel. Massive wings were folded serenely at her sides, giving Twilight the impression of swan. The horn protruding from her head was easily three times the length of any typical unicorn’s, and ended in a fine point rather than the tapered curve that was typical of a pony. “May I introduce Ambassador Celestia?” Zecora said, seemingly oblivious to the awed expression on the unicorn officer’s face. “Ambassador, this is Colonel Twilight Sparkle of the United Tribes of Equestria. She is to be the pony representative on Harmony, as well as the fort’s commander.” Twilight’s ear flicked. She was about to turn her head and inquire as to how the striped mare seemed to know so much about her, but then her focus was quickly recaptured by the towering alicorn who was approaching them. “Colonel Sparkle,” the alicorn greeted with a nod. Lilac eyes framed by pristine white fur looked down at Twilight. “I have heard a lot about you.” The smaller mare blanched. Her mind raced with the possible implication of that statement, and few of them boded well for her. In the best case, Twilight’s government had sent on a short biography of the representative that they were assigning to Harmony to the alicorns. In the worst case… Her eyes darted briefly to the zebra mare beside her, who appeared to be far more comfortable in the presence of the taller alabaster mare. Twilight had a reputation among the zebras. She had a name. Had Zecora told Celestia about the name? About what Twilight had done to earn it—? The unicorn’s thoughts were diverted by a commotion at the main entrance for the Council Chamber. All eyes in the room turned as one towards the sight of the furious gold and white griffon hen who was presently barging her way past a few other delegates who she’d decided were in her way as she made a beeline for the main table reserved for the representatives of the world’s major powers. However, her fiery eyes didn’t seem to notice the unicorn, zebra, or even the alicorn standing near it. Her attention was laser-focused on the azure dragoness who was already reclining back in her seat, seemingly more interested in the condition of her claws than the commotion heading directly for her. That was certainly how it seemed. From where Twilight was standing, she could see the talons on the dragon’s hind feet splaying out, her legs tensing, ready to vault over the table when the timing was just right. There was going to be another fight, Twilight realized. Nor had she been the only one. Captain Applejack must have sensed that the griffon ambassador’s demeanor could only lead to one outcome and was hot on the hen’s heels. The earth pony didn’t have her rope on her though, and the griffon was moving fast. Nocreature else was moving to intervene. They all seemed content to watch whatever ruckus was about to unfold on the chamber floor. It wasn’t their fault. They were political appointees. Stopping fights wasn’t their job, assuming that any of them even had any meaningful training in how to subdue an opponent. Even Zecora and Celestia seemed content to just spectate. The former seemed annoyed; the latter just looked bored. Having two ambassadors throw down on the Council Chamber floor before the first meeting she hosted probably wasn’t going to earn her a particularly glowing performance review from Equestria Command, Twilight thought to herself. This was also a perfect opportunity to make a good impression on the other delegates. Or, at the very least, demonstrate that the representative from Equestria wasn’t going to be a push-over during future negotiations. “Ambassador Gilda!” Twilight said. By way of a particularly forceful greeting as the small purple unicorn interposed her body in the griffon’s path, causing her to draw up short. “How good of you to finally join us,” the mare continued on. “Though you seem to have passed your seat. Allow me to show you to it—” “Out of my way, pony,” the griffon snarled, her attention barely wavering from the still nonplussed-looking dragon. “This ain’t any of your business—!” “Seeing as how I’m Equestia’s plenipotentiary representative and the one presiding over these proceedings, I’d say that makes everything that happens in this room ‘my business’, ambassador,” Twilight responded immediately with a near growl of her own, doing all she could to increase the perceived appearance of her much smaller stature as she faced off against the larger griffon. “To say nothing of my concurrent position as Harmony’s commander; which makes everything that happens on this whole island my business! “Now, ambassador, you will take your seat and voice whatever…issue you have with the dragon representative at the prescribed time in a civilized manner.” Twilight spared a moment to glance past the griffon, noting that Applejack and two other uniformed ponies were standing at the ready just in case. “Am I clear?” The faintest glimmer of shock was visible on the griffon’s face when Twilight delivered her ultimatum. It was clear that that ambassador wasn’t used to getting talked to like that. Probably from any creature, but certainly least of all from a pony. Griffons were big, generally ornery, and possessed sharp talons and a beak designed to rend flesh from the bones of their prey. Most ponies found the mere presence of a griffon intimidating; least of all the sight of one who was very clearly quite pissed off! Little intimidated Twilight after Canterhorn though. There was a moment where Twilight started to believe that Applejack’s intervention was going to become necessary. Fortunately for all concerned, Gilda eventually took a step back. “Fine.” Her expression was still etched with fury, and the words she spoke burned with a barely-repressed rage, but she stepped back and stalked her way over to her seat at the head table. “Washing her blood out of my feathers would be a drag anyway…” Twilight let the comment go without further remark. She also shot Ambassador Ember a preemptive look to ensure that the dragoness did the same. It felt like it wouldn’t take much to spark a fight that the unicorn wouldn’t be able to stop with just a few firm words. Thankfully, the dragoness appeared content to simply continue to go about tending to her claws, acting as though she’d been completely oblivious to the griffon’s arrival. There was even a satisfied smile curling her lips. As grateful as the purple unicorn was that the situation didn’t look like it was going to be escalated by either party, there was a part of her that couldn’t help but feel like it was too good to be true. She hadn’t known either ambassador for any worthwhile length of time, true; but being introduced to the pair by way of being made an unwilling part of their brawl yesterday had left an impression on the colonel. Applejack’s later revelation that such fights occurred with some frequency hadn’t helped matters either. She found herself unable to trust that this meeting wouldn’t see at least some amount of blood being spilled by its end. They’d cross that bridge when they came to it. In the meantime, “If everycreature could take their seats?” Twilight began, giving the rest of the gathered representatives a nod. She flashed an appreciative look in the direction of the head of the island’s security detail as well, giving her a silent dismissal. The orange earth pony touched a hoof to her not-quite-regulation hat and withdrew from the chamber, taking up position close enough outside to respond promptly if tempers flared again. Twilight took a cleansing breath and made her way over to her own designated seat of the head table, positioned between Zecora and Celestia. Gilda and Ember sat at the outer edges, placed as far from each other as was possible. The unicorn wasn’t certain if that arrangement had been imposed on the pair to keep them out of claw’s reach, or if they had decided unprompted that they didn’t want to be any closer to each other as was absolutely necessary. She caught the towering alabaster alicorn peering down at her out of the corner of her eye, a small smile curling the corner of her mouth. The expression was there for only a moment before the ambassador of the enigmatic race was once more facing outward towards the rest of the assembled delegates. To the purple mare’s other side, the zebra maintained a much more impassive expression. Twilight couldn’t recall either mare reacting to the griffon’s arrival. Perhaps they were just used to it? Twilight waited for every creature to be seated. Then she began the day’s proceedings. “Very well; welcome everycreature and thank you for your presence here today. For those of you who do not know, my name is Twilight Sparkle, and I have been appointed to represent The United Tribes of Equestria and to officiate these meetings. “I want to state upfront that I believe in Harmony’s mission wholeheartedly. It is my sincere desire to see every creature and nation in this world prosper in a shared peace. It is an endeavor that will take all of us working together.” It proved somewhat difficult for Twilight not to look in the direction of either Gilda or Ember. “To that end: let us then begin.” Twilight glanced down at the day’s docket. “The first item on the agenda for today’s meeting is—” Gilda suddenly shot up out of her seat, slamming a talon-tipped hand down on the table. “I’m making a motion to raise an emergency issue before this council!” While the unicorn had initially jerked in surprise at the outburst, she was narrowing her gaze at the griffon now. She’d hoped to make it at least a full minute into her first meeting before having to deal with a disruption from one of those two. Twilight bit back the first retort that presented itself and opted for one that was more diplomatic. According to the book she’d been reading that morning, maintaining control of a negotiation was paramount; and doing so with poise strengthened one’s position later. Besides, her tone notwithstanding, Gilda—and indeed, any representative—did have the right to bring an issue to the forefront of discussion if they believed it was serious enough. The difference with the griffons, and indeed any of the recognized major powers, was that her motion didn’t require a ‘second’ to be sustained. “Very well,” Twilight said in as even a tone as she could manage. “The ambassador of the Griffonian Republic is recognized. “Please state the issue you would like to raise.” Gilda jabbed a talon in the direction of the still very nonplussed-looking dragoness. “I just got word that the dragons launched a surprise invasion of the Republic!” The other delegates all began to murmur amongst themselves at the revelation. Ember still did not react. “We griffons demand that the dragons be censured, or sanctioned, or embargoed, or whatever else can be done to punish them!” The feathered feline was glaring at Twilight and Zecora now. “The whole point of this ‘council’ was supposed to be about ‘enforcing the peace’, right?! So enforce it!” The murmuring devolved into much more lively verbal exchanges now, but not between Gilda and Ember—the dragon still had yet to say a word. No, it was the minor representatives who were growing increasingly uneasy. For, while they might all be independent sovereign nations, nearly all of them had signed treaties of one sort or another with either the griffons or the dragons. If a shooting war did erupt between the two races, then it would inevitably drag most of the rest of the world into it. Thus the other delegates were understandably concerned. “Because if this council won’t, I can promise you that the Griffonian Republic will. If we’re not satisfied with what this council does today, then there will be war!” Author's Note Don't you hate it when you show up to your first day of work and somebody goes and does a war? As always, a thumbs up and comment are always greatly appreciated If you like the cover art and want to see more stories get them, I've set up a Cover Art Fund if you're interested and have any bits lying around! Chapter 3: Learning CurveWar. Twilight’s first day on the job as Equestria’s representative and the shepherd of the council that was supposed to ensure lasting world peace…and there was already the very real possibility that they could all get pulled into a war. The representatives from among the minor powers were all but shouting at each other now. Half of them had treaties with the griffons. Many of those treaties were mutual defense pacts of one sort or another—some of which were more extortionate than others. The rest of those powers had nearly identical treaties with the dragons. Five minutes ago, all of those races had been ready to work together to maintain the peace. Now battle lines were being drawn. Twilight looked to the zebra ambassador sitting to her right. Zecora, as the more experienced diplomat, was her initial preferred source for advice on how to defuse the situation. The unicorn looked almost pleadingly at the striped equine. “How do I stop this?” She asked under her breath, leaning in close to prevent her question from being overheard. Zecora didn’t immediately respond to Twilight's question. Instead, she glanced over the purple mare’s head and appeared to exchange a look with the alicorn on the pony’s other side. Twilight didn’t turn in time to catch the expression on the taller mare’s face, and she hadn’t heard anything spoken aloud. However, it seemed that Zecora had received whatever guidance she’d been looking for. The zebra shrugged. “The griffons and dragons always find something to fight over. Perhaps a war between them is something that cannot be stopped?” She shook her head and pushed back from the table, a clear sign that she was not going to involve herself in this matter. Twilight bit back her frustration at being denied helpful advice from the zebra and instead turned to the alicorn on her left once more. “Ambassador Celestia—” “Our policy is to not involve ourselves in the conflicts between other creatures,” the towering white mare intoned with a passive expression. “We will not take sides here.” “Not even the side of peace?!” Twilight shot back in a low frustrated growl. “I hear no talk of ‘peace’ in these chambers today,” Celestia observed with a frown at the smaller unicorn. Twilight bit down on her resentment at the lack of assistance that she was receiving from the others. Why did they seem so content to let this catastrophe play out without trying to do anything to stop it?! Twilight knew why she wasn’t immediately jumping into action: this was her first day as a diplomat; she didn’t know what to do! She’d been studying up on this subject for only a hoofful of weeks; she was a complete novice! Meanwhile, those who should have been deft hooves at this sort of thing were simply sitting back and allowing Ambassador Gilda to whip the room into a near frenzy. Twilight refused to believe—though Zecora and Celestia were certainly more knowledgeable about high-stakes political dealings than the unicorn—that inaction was the most beneficial move here. Somecreature needed to do something! Unfortunately for them all, it looked like that ‘somecreature’ was going to have to be Twilight. First things first, the purple mare thought to herself as she stood up from the table to her full height, gain control. Twilight brought her hoof down on the table’s surface. “Order!” She cried out at the top of her lungs, throwing the full weight of Authority into her voice that years of being a commander of ponies on the battlefield had granted her. “There will be order in this chamber!” Much to the unicorn’s surprise—though she didn’t let it show too plainly on her face—the room quieted down almost immediately, with every delegate turning towards the mare. A great many of them wore shocked expressions. A few even looked visibly cowed by Twilight’s fierce glare. “Ambassador Gilda still retains the floor; all others will be silent until they are called to speak! “And you will retake your seats!” She added, fixing pointed looks on those representatives who had risen from their places to better direct their vitriol at potential future adversaries. It wasn’t long before every creature was seated and quiet once more. Good. Now to try and solve the problem. But I can’t do that without first defining the variables— “Ambassador Gilda,” Twilight said at a much lower volume, fighting to hide her exasperation with the griffon for the disruption that she’d provoked. Likely deliberately. “Would you care to elaborate? You claim that the dragons ‘invaded’ the Republic…?” It proved impossible for the purple unicorn to completely mask her skepticism. While the animosity that existed between the griffons and the dragons was well known to everycreature on the planet, and a conflict between the two was hardly unbelievable…the fact remained that, hypothetically, a full military invasion of the Griffonian Republic by the dragons wasn’t feasible. The individual size of some dragons notwithstanding, they didn’t have the numbers to hold a significant amount of griffon territory. Launching the sort of attack that the ambassador had described would lead to an inevitable counter-offensive by the numerically—and still narrowly technologically—superior feathered felines. Stereotypes aside, Twilight didn’t believe that the dragons were actually dumb enough to do something that stupid. “I’m not ‘claiming’ anything!” Gilda spat back, glaring at the pony now just as fiercely as she’d been at Ambassador Ember. “It’s a fact!” To emphasize her point, the griffon held up a roll of parchment that was clutched in her talons. She all but hurled it at Twilight, who deftly caught the half-crumpled scroll in her telekinesis and unfurled it. “A flight of dragons landed on the Republic island of Ragnar and took the population hostage!” The griffon representative declared, succinctly summarizing what Twilight was presently reading on the supplied scroll. “Republic citizens living on Republic territory! That’s an invasion; and the dragons did it!” The murmurs began to rise up once more from the wider gallery. Twilight kept them from escalating any further with a fierce glare across the chamber and some firm taps of her hoof on the table. Her eyes then returned to the scroll and finished looking over its contents. It essentially mirrored what Gilda had just told them, albeit going into more detail. Apparently the invasion—and that did appear to be the best way to describe the events at present—had been witnessed and reported by a small cargo steamship that was leaving the island just as the dragons arrived. Though it had been a griffon cargo vessel, Twilight noted. Not exactly an unbiased source… …And Ambassador Ember still hasn’t said anything, the unicorn noted, glancing at the still seemingly disinterested dragon. Either because she knows it’s horseapples and can prove it, or… Twilight lowered the scroll and nodded towards Gilda. “Thank you for bringing this matter to the attention of the Council, Ambassador.” The griffon hen remained standing, but gave the unicorn a nod before once more fixing her eagle-eyed glare on the sapphire-hued dragon sitting across from her. The unicorn rethought the wisdom of seating the pair of feuding representatives in direct line of sight of each other before turning now to seek a response to the rather serious allegations that had been made. “Ambassador Ember? Would you like to offer an explanation? Did your government authorize an invasion of Republic territory?” There was the possibility that Gilda was wholly correct and a flight of dragons had landed on the island; but not every dragon in the world answered to the Dragon Lord. There was the possibility—the hope—that these dragons were simply brigands or raiders acting on their own. If that proved to be the case, then the griffons would be hard-pressed to escalate the situation into an all-out war. Not with international support at least… Ember finally glanced up from her self-administered manicure and favored the unicorn with a wry smirk. “Of course we didn’t invade the Republic’s island,” the dragon replied casually. Twilight allowed herself a small sigh of relief. If the dragons were unaffiliated with the government of the Dragon Lands then— “We were invited,” the scaled representative added. Her smile broadened now, spreading out into a far too toothy grin of obvious glee that she turned on Gilda. “Bullshit—!” Twilight held up a hoof. “Ambassador Gilda,” the unicorn warned. The griffon snapped her beak shut, her glare bouncing between the dragon and the pony, appearing to try and decide who she wanted to yell at more. Fortunately, she refrained from yelling at all and contented herself with fierce looks and bristled feathers as she waited for the pony representative to say her piece. “Ambassador Ember, I’m sure you can understand how…” Twilight groped around for a more diplomatic way to phrase her question than what initially came to mind, eventually settling on, “implausible some creatures might find it that a griffon settlement invited an army of dragons to their island. While I wouldn’t want it to seem as though I’m calling you a ‘liar’, I don’t suppose you have some documentation supporting your claim?” Ember tore her gaze from the griffon and looked at the purple pony now. Her expression showed fewer teeth, but also more annoyance. “‘Their’ island,” she echoed with a scoff. “Ragnar is less than ten leagues from the primary island of the Dragon Lands archipelago. It’s five hundred from the continent that the griffons live on.” The dragon’s garnet eyes flickered to the Republic ambassador. “I forget, ambassador; how long has Ragnar been ‘your’ island exactly?” She didn’t wait for an actual answer, deciding that she had made her point. Twilight made a mental note to review historical maps of that region of the world so she knew when it might be more politique to use specific phrasing when it came to the touchier issues of who-owned-what-land-now. “But this isn’t about land,” the dragon ambassador lied, waving her claws dismissively before reaching beneath the table and picking out a sealed scroll. She tossed it to Twilight. “This is a formal invitation, issued by the governor of Ragnar Island, to Dragon Lord Torch, asking for our assistance.” “Like we’d ever need help from fricking handbags—” The unicorn cut Gilda off with another pointed look and a raised hoof before rephrasing the griffon’s doubts. “Does the governor explain why he chose to ask you for help and not his own government?” Twilight asked evenly even as her magic broke the wax seal and unfurled the scroll that she’d been given. At a glance, it did indeed look like a formal request for intervention. All of the seals at the bottom looked genuine too; though Twilight acknowledged that she wasn’t exactly trained to be able to spot forged Griffonian Republic government seals on sight. She didn’t even know if the ‘Gallus’ named at the bottom was actually the island’s governor. Twilight passed the scroll over to Gilda to look over, deciding that the griffon would be a better authority on its authenticity. The griffon snatched the parchment from Twilight's magic and started to look it over while Ember answered the unicorn’s question. “They were unsatisfied with the output of their gem mines,” Ember answered easily. “The island’s governor realized that, while he could have asked the Republic for help implementing more efficient mining methods, well, what with the distance and all, it was a whole lot easier for them to ask us instead.” The dragoness’ expression hardened now as she turned from Twilight to fix her gaze on the griffon ambassador, who appeared to be growing ever more progressively furious the more she read the scroll in her talons. “We do have a lot of experience running Griffonian gem mines, after all.” There was no missing the acid that coated those words. Ember snorted out a small puff of smoke before reapplying the smug smile to her snout. She relaxed her talons from where they’d ended up carving a deep furrow into the surface of the table and glanced back at Twilight. “So we sent advisors to supervise their mining efforts.” “You sent so many advisors over that it looked like the island was being invaded?” Twilight asked skeptically. “Well, we also saw that the island wasn’t particularly well-defended. You know, from pirates and stuff.” Ember said without missing a beat. “The griffons stripped away a lot of their garrisons and naval patrols in recent months. Something about a ‘special operation’ involving the kirin?” The dragon turned her head towards the relevant table in the gallery. Twilight noted that the pair of kirin delegates wore sour expressions as one of them nodded in confirmation of Ember's allegation on that matter. The other kirin at the table was lightly smoldering as she glared at Gilda. “Anti-piracy operations,” the griffon ambassador quipped reflexively while reading over the scroll. She did not look up to acknowledge the kirin's glare. Her beak did quiver briefly as she picked up the acrid scent of burning that was starting to fill the air. “The patrols and garrisons weren’t going to be away for long.” “Of course,” Ember rolled her eyes and continued to answer Twilight’s question. “Anyway, we needed to make sure our advisors, the miners, and the shipments of gemstones were well-protected. So we sent along some of our soldiers to make sure everycreature was safe. That’s all. She looked in the direction of the griffon ambassador once more. “What was the language that your government used back in the day, Gilda? Your armies weren’t ‘occupying’ us, they were just ‘keeping us safe’? ‘Supervising our development’? “‘Civilizing’ us?” Those last two words were audibly bathed in unabashed vitriol; enough to finally draw a look from Gilda, who appeared to have finished reading over the scroll. “This was coerced,” she stated, tossing away the scroll. “And your proof of that is…?” Ember challenged, not appearing to be all that concerned with the griffon’s opinion on the matter. “Is the seal genuine, ambassador?” Gilda was forced to—eventually—issue a very reluctant nod. “And the signature? You recognize it?” Another reluctant nod, this time accompanied by repeated flexing of the griffon’s talons in obvious barely-contained fury. “Is it genuine, ambassador?” “What did you threaten to do to him?” Gilda demanded. Sensing that the conversation could only go downhill from here, Twilight chose to interject herself back into it and retake control. “And all of the griffons that you’re…advising?” The unicorn had long since caught on to the reality, but maintained the fiction Ember was using for the sake of keeping the conversation flowing amicably. “They are there by choice? They are free to leave if they don’t want to be ‘advised’ by you?” Ember didn’t acknowledge the question immediately, seeming to take delight in her griffon counterpart’s growing ire. After several long seconds though, the dragon finally sat back in her seat and shrugged. “Of course they can. In fact, every griffon who wanted to leave the island already did before we even got there. The rest are quite happy to learn everything we have to teach them about working in a mine.” “And how long do you expect the ‘advising’ to last?” Twilight asked, the political lie tasting bitter on her tongue. “Who can say? As you can see, some griffons take longer to learn their lessons than others,” Ember said with a flick of her claws in Gilda’s direction. “But, I promise we’ll leave when the island’s governor asks us to,” she assured the Council, her toothy smile once more back in place on her muzzle. “He’s a pretty busy griffon though, learning about how to mine gems and all. “Who can say when he’ll ever find the time to draft a formal request for us to depart? He’s very engrossed in the…instruction we’re providing—” “You fucking BITCH—!” Twilight’s magic lanced forth just in time to keep the griffon from fully vaulting over the table, holding the ambassador at bay with a glowing purple aura. Captain Applejack and one of her guards charged into the room at about the same time, having correctly deduced that the talks had deteriorated. They drew up short at a raised hoof from their commander even as the unicorn kept most of her focus on keeping Gilda from tackling the all-to-smug dragon across from her. “Ambassador Gilda!” “Let me go, you fucking hornhead!” the griffon snarled. Twilight grit her teeth and threw her head to the side, her magic following with the movement and hurling the struggling ambassador back into her seat, where she landed with a squawk that was more frustration than pain. “Ambassador Gilda,” the unicorn mare repeated at a much raised volume, finally grasping the griffon’s full attention. “You will compose yourself while this situation is resolved, or—” Gilda opened her beak to issue a rebuke, but found herself silenced when a tendril of telekinetic magic lashed itself around her beak and sealed it shut, much to the feathered feline’s obvious consternation. “OR,” Twilight repeated through clenched teeth, “you can calm down under the supervision of Captain Applejack outside for the rest of these proceedings.” She and the griffon kept their eyes locked on one another for several long seconds, the latter’s chest heaving with furious breaths. In much calmer tones, Twilight added, “Trust me when I say: this will go better with you here. Provided you can keep your temper under control. “Can you do that, Ambassador?” The purple pony—tentatively—released her magical grip on the griffon’s beak. Her features remained etched with fury, and her lips never reduced themselves from a sneer, but the griffon at least spoke with a more civil-sounding tone. “...Fine,” she didn’t—quite—spit. Twilight let out a breath and nodded, fully releasing the griffon from her magical hold. “Heh, and they wanted to ‘civilize’ us—” Ember began her verbal goading once more. However, Twilight was rather done with the dragon ambassador’s attitude by this point as well. “I’m something of a polymath.” The nonsequitur briefly stunned the dragoness into silence as she looked over at the unicorn in confusion. “...What?” “Polymath,” Twilight repeated in a conversational tone as she took her attention from the griffon and regarded Ember. “It means: one who has wide-ranging knowledge, often among many differing fields of study. You see: I like to learn. About anything really. Physics, biology, chemistry, magic, I’m interested in it all. “Before the war broke out back home, I was working on my fourth degree,” she went on. “While the fighting shifted my priorities and mostly derailed my formal academic pursuits, my love for learning has always remained.” “...Good for you?” Ember ventured, clearly not sure what to make of the unicorn’s rambling. She looked to the nearby zebra and alicorn for insight, but both of the other ambassadors remained as silent now as they had been throughout the rest of the afternoon’s proceedings. Twilight nodded. “Thank you. Anyway, I bring this up because it occurs to me that, while gemstones are used in a lot of magical applications, I’ve never before really looked into what went into procuring them,” she explained. “Gems were always just something that I picked up at the local store. Their detection, extraction, refinement…I’d never considered those aspects very closely before. “But now I am, and I find myself fascinated,” Twilight had a smile on her own muzzle now as she leaned forward, peering eagerly at Ambassador Ember. “Do you think you could arrange a guided tour of the mines on Ragnar Island for me?” “What?” “Since you dragons are such experts—to the point where you’re teaching the griffons and all—I just know I’ll receive the best education on gem mining there. Right?” Ember cleared her throat and shifted uncomfortably in her seat. “That’s not anything that I’d be able to arrange,” she quickly said by way of dismissal, and hurriedly added, “or any dragon in my government. It’s not our island—just ask Gilda,” the ambassador pointed out. “But I can pass on your request to the governor. I’m sure he’ll get around to looking it over eventually—” “Oh, there’s no need to bother him if he’s busy,” Twilight assured the dragoness before turning to address the nearby griffon representative. “Ambassador Gilda, I’m sure that you could grant me a writ of passage to any province controlled by the Griffonian Republic, right? Even Ragnar Island?” Much like Ember initially had, Gilda issued several confused blinks as she tried to figure out why the unicorn was so interested in a study trip rather than addressing the important issue at hand. Then Twilight saw realization dawn across the feathered face. The griffon visibly relaxed now, and even allowed the corners of her beak to turn up into a smile that she turned towards the dragoness. “Yeah, I could do that,” she informed the unicorn. “I can have that on your desk by tonight if you’d like, Twilight Spackle.” “Sparkle.” “Whatever. Just tell me when you want to go.” Gilda’s smile became slightly broader as she spied the dragon’s mounting unease. “I noticed that there was one of your sail-rigged paddle boats in the harbor,” the purple mare said, pointedly ignoring the ever growing concern on Ember’s features. “I bet it could get me there in just a few days—” “You know what?” Ember finally spoke up. “I just remembered that a few more griffons did mention wanting to visit family on the mainland. They’re just waiting on a ride.” “I see,” said Twilight. “Well, it just so happens that I know a mare who has a boat that I think is still docked in Harmony.” At least, Twilight was reasonably sure that Keelhaul hadn’t left yet. Even if she had, she suspected that Captain Rainbow Dash would be able to catch and redirect the Lickity before it made it too far. She was apparently fast enough. “I assume that I can send her along to pick up those griffons?” Ember grimaced, but eventually nodded, “I can let our security forces know to expect you.” “Good,” Twilight said with a nod. “And I’m sure the ship will arrive to find happy and healthy griffons. “Won’t they?” “Of course,” the dragoness tried not to say with a frown. She was marginally successful. Gilda leaned forward, her eyes darting between the dragon and the unicorn. “...And if it turns out that they all want to leave?” she posed. “That means that you dragons won’t have anygriff to ‘teach’ anymore, right? So I guess you might as well go back home—” “And leave those mines abandoned for who knows how long?” Ember feigned sounding aghast, recording some of her earlier haughty composure now that she was verbally sparring with a more familiar opponent. “Don’t you know how unsafe that would make those mines when everygriff gets back? Those mines have to be looked after and cared for. They need regular upkeep. "For safety reasons.” The dragon smiled now. “Which us dragons will be happy to provide for as long as your griffons are away. “In exchange for fair compensation, of course.” Gilda’s eyes narrowed. “...'Compensation'?!” The griffon bristled with renewed frustration. “You actually expect us to pay you to occupy our island—?” “I don’t think we’ll need direct payment, no,” Ember conceded, almost sounding conciliatory, “I’m sure we can satisfy ourselves with whatever we happen to pull out of those mines while we’re looking after them.” The toothy smile was back again. "We can bring in plenty of dragons to keep the mines looked after. "Do you mind if we quarter ourselves in the houses of the island's residents? You know, since your griffons won’t be using them and all after they leave to...” Ember spared a moment to refresh herself on the lie she'd used earlier, "...visit their families." The corners of Gilda’s beak pulled back in a sneer. “We’ll be back.” “We’ll be waiting.” “So we are all in agreement,” Twilight affirmed. It was not a question, and neither ambassador treated it as such. “And I suppose I can wait for that mine tour, Ambassador Ember. I did just arrive on Harmony, after all. I should wait a while before putting in for leave. “On to the next item of business,” the unicorn announced, once more looking down at the docket. “The illustrious representative of Minos has the floor…” Colonel Twilight Sparkle slumped back in her seat at the table after the last of the delegates left, exceedingly grateful that the meeting was finally over with. As much as the unicorn had been looking forward to an ‘easy’ inaugural session, that sentiment had begun to wear thin around hour three of the tariff negotiation. While she would never admit it aloud—under pain of death—the threat of global war at the beginning of the session had arguably been the ‘best’ part of the whole day. Insofar as the unicorn hadn’t been forced to employ a spell to periodically deliver a shock to the frog of her hind hoof in order to keep herself awake during that part. I never, in a thousand years, would have thought I’d miss those Battle Update Briefings, but here we are… Movement by the door caused Twilight to wince. The audible groan was just barely withheld. Her telekinesis reflexively reached for her notebook and a pencil as the unicorn prepared to schedule another meeting with a representative who wanted ‘just a moment’ of the unicorn’s time. Thus far, each of the last dozen creatures had asked for ‘moments’ in four hour blocks. The mare found herself idly wondering if there hadn’t perhaps been some egregious error made in the dictionaries available on Harmony that had seen the definition of ‘moment’ grossly mischaracterized… When Twilight turned to see that it was her executive officer approaching, the purple unicorn visibly relaxed. Then she tensed up again a second later, though not nearly as much, as she considered that it was entirely possible the other mare was bringing her unpleasant news. “Hello, major. Please tell me that I don’t have any other meetings today.” Twilight opened her notebook and leafed through the pages with her magic to see if she could spot something that she might have overlooked earlier. Rarity had the good humor to smile and started to shake her head…then stopped. The ivory mare considered. “Well…I suppose that depends on what you count as being a ‘meeting’...?” Twilight groaned and started to lightly tap her forehead against the surface of the table. “Ambassador Zecora told me to extend a dinner invitation to you,” the mare hastily added upon seeing her commander’s less-than-thrilled reaction. “If you’re interested, ma’am. “She was careful to make it clear that it is a strictly informal invitation; and that if you’re too worn out from the day’s—” The other unicorn’s assurances were interrupted by the audible rumble of Twilight’s stomach. The reaction had been entirely involuntary, and had been triggered by the mention of the possibility of a meal in the purple pony’s immediate future. Where balanced meals were concerned, this day had not been a kind one for the colonel. A day-old—though still pleasantly moist—muffin for breakfast and a pair of cupcakes for a ‘working lunch’ before the Council meeting felt as though they had only barely staved off outright starvation. It had been well in excess of twenty-four hours since the unicorn had eaten anything approaching a ‘proper meal’, and the effects on her mental fortitude were starting to show. “...So, that’s a soft ‘yes’ on the dinner invite?” Rarity deduced, her muzzle betraying hints of a smile at the corner of her lips. Twilight flushed slightly, mentally rebuking her stomach’s impropriety before nodding at her XO. “Let the ambassador know that I’ll be there. When did she say it was?” “She said that if you wanted to attend, she would appreciate you being there in about a half an hour or so.” That meant that Twilight had thirty minutes to get back to her quarters, take a quick shower, change into something more appropriate for dinner with a high-ranking government official, and then make her way to said official’s quarters, which were sequestered in an adjoining tower. It wasn’t an impossible timetable, but it didn’t leave Twilight with a lot of wiggle room either. The purple unicorn closed her notebook and stuffed it, and everything else still on the table, into her saddlebag before getting up from the table and heading for the exit. “Major, please let the ambassador know I’ll be there in half an hour.” “Yes, ma’am.” Twilight hurried back to her quarters at a brisk trot. The moment the door was closed behind her, her magic went to work flinging away her saddlebag and discarding her uniform—as well as snagging a molasses cookie from the basket to tide her over—as she made her way to the bathroom for a quick shower. She lingered just long enough to let the heated water wash away some of the tension that she’d acquired in her withers during the Council session before hopping back out and drying off. Picking out an outfit took up most of the time she had. Rarity may have described the dinner as being ‘informal’—and Twilight didn’t doubt for a moment that the other unicorn had conveyed the exact wording of the ambassador’s invitation accurately—but the little purple mare was at least experienced enough with politics and government to know that some words didn’t carry their more colloquial definitions over into certain settings. This dinner constituted the senior Equestrian representative on Harmony sitting down to meet privately with the senior Zebrican government representative. This meeting was no more ‘informal’ than a luncheon with a news reporter was ‘off the record’. Maybe Twilight didn’t need to show up wearing her finest dress uniform, but she still needed to look properly presentable. Twilight eventually settled on a yellow sundress with some pale accents along the hem and a conservative pink ribbon on her breast. Nothing too elaborate or fancy, but enough to show that the unicorn was taking the invitation seriously. After a brief minute spent in front of the mirror making sure the dress was laying right, and practicing one of the Zebrican greetings that she knew, Twilight finally turned to depart from her apartment. She delayed her departure just long enough to snag a pecan pie from her—finally noticeably—dwindling pile of sweets, then slipped out the door. Finding Ambassador Zecora’s apartment wasn’t particularly difficult. Several smaller towers abutted the main lighthouse spire on the island, and each played host to several embassies of the various nations of the world which had deigned to establish one on Harmony. The zebras utilized three floors of the north-facing tower, and it was clearly evident which floors those were, as they were the ones which were guarded by zebra soldiers dressed in their moss green and black wool coats. Twilight couldn’t help but eye their rifles as the guards, who had presumably been advised of the unicorn’s arrival, gave her directions to the ambassador’s apartment. She’d too often seen those polished steel barrels pointed in her direction not to still be wary of them, even after all of this time. Ambassador Zecora’s quarters were on the uppermost of the three floors that the zebras occupied, with the first floor being much more modest quarters for the mission’s staff—to include billeting for their soldiers—and the middle floor being utilized as office space to run the consulate’s business on Harmony. The quarters were also substantially nicer than what Twilight had been allotted, the mare noticed when her knock was answered. “Salamu, Mh—ELL-oh!” Twilight’s attempt at an initial greeting died amidst her shock when she realized that it had not been the ambassador herself who had opened the door, but a zebra stallion she didn’t recognize. Given that the unicorn was staring at the buttoned maroon vest over his sternum, and found herself having to crane her neck upwards considerably before she finally found a jaw—framed by a deep black beard—the colonel determined that he was a rather large stallion at that. He was also not quite glaring at her. “O-oh. I-I’m sorry,” Twilight stammered, taking a step back from the door. “I guess I was given the wrong directions? I’m looking for Ambassador Zecora?” “Let her in, Grevy,” a familiar mare’s voice said from somewhere beyond the striped stallion’s broad form. He briefly glanced back over his shoulder, as though seeking some additional confirmation, before bowing his head in Twilight’s direction and stepping aside. “Hm.” Zecora now came into view. Twilight reformed the warm smile she’d intended to greet the ambassador with…and found herself having to struggle a little to retain it in place when she noticed that the striped mare was only wearing her jewelry. The stallion was more formally dressed than the ambassador was, because he was at least wearing a vest! Twilight found herself reconsidering how Equestrian and Zebrican official’s differed in their definitions of the word ‘informal’. The unicorn preferred the zebra’s. “Good evening, Colonel Sparkle. Thank you for accepting my invitation; please come in.” “Salamu, Mheshimiwa Balozi,” Twilight tried once more. At least she managed not to stumble over the unfamiliar words. Zecora’s smile grew a little wider and she inclined her head slightly. “And a fine…enchanté? To you too, colonel.” Twilight paused mid-step as she was about to enter, tilting her head to the side as she puzzled over the zebra mare’s use of Prench. Then she smiled too. “Right. You’ve spent a lot of time with Major Rarity since arriving on the island.” She’d known a few ponies back in Equestria who spoke in the same ‘High Canterlot’ accent as the ivory unicorn mare, along with their propensity to throw Prench words into conversation at seemingly random times. The zebra cocked a brow, prompting Twilight to clear her hoof and dismiss the striped mare’s concerns with a hoof. “Nevermind. Thank you for inviting me to dinner. I brought a pie!” The unicorn presented the baked dessert—which was presently steaming thanks to the judicious application of a basic heating spell—to her host. Zecora’s smile grew a little at the sight of the pie and she gave a soft chuckle before pointing a hoof in the direction of the suite’s kitchenette. “Much appreciated, colonel. You may place it over on the counter. Then please join me in the parlor for a pre-meal beverage.” Twilight nodded and stepped gingerly in the direction of the indicated counter. The large zebra stallion, Grevy, was in the kitchenette putting some of the final touches on the evening’s meal. He nodded politely at the smaller mare but otherwise said nothing. The unicorn set the pecan pie held in her levitation field down on the counter…right next to another pecan pie that was already cooling there. Any inclination towards feeling embarrassed at somehow managing to bring a redundant offering to the dinner vanished when Twilight noticed that the two desserts looked identical to each other…right down to the ‘smiley face’ design the top layer of pecans had been arranged in. “Um…I don’t suppose that you got this pie from a pink earth—” “Green or black, colonel?” Zecora asked from the other room, cutting off the unicorn’s question. “What?” “Your tea preference, colonel,” came the clarification at the same moment that the zebra became visible in the doorway, holding aloft two teabags in her upturned hoof. “Do you prefer green or black? It has been my observation that many ponies prefer black tea; but I would not want to presume that you share your kinfolk’s stereotypical lack of good taste.” Turquoise eyes danced with amusement. Twilight blinked a few times before her own features settled into a smile of her own as she finally recognized the playful barb. “Coffee for me; if you have it.” Her smile preemptively broadened in anticipation of the expected reaction from her host. She was not disappointed. Zecora feigned appalled shock. “Ah! I see that I have inadvertently invited a barbarian into my humble home!” Her gaze then shifted past Twilight. “Grevy? Coffee for our guest.” “Hm.” The larger stallion dipped his head down behind the counter and returned to view a moment later with a glass cylinder held in his teeth. Twilight recognized the device immediately. She cast Zecora a bewildered look. “You own a Prench Press?” “Barbarism is contagious, it turns out. Come, colonel; let us sit and speak.” The parlor felt fairly crowded, at least when Twilight thought back to most of her own past living accommodations. She’d never had an abundance of space in her assigned quarters prior to being assigned to Harmony, and what space she’d been given, she’d tended to leave largely untouched. The unicorn had always known that her assignments would be temporary, and so never saw much point in moving in the bulk of her possessions. Zecora obviously held a different philosophy: if you were going to be living far from home for a while, then bring as much of home with you as you could. Absolutely none of the apartment’s stone walls were visible. Where there wasn’t a hanging tapestry or blanket, there was an ornately carved wooden mask. Where there hadn’t been room to hang a mask, there was a fern or small tree. Where a tree hadn’t been deemed suitable, a statue stood in its place. Twilight stood in the doorway for almost a solid minute taking it all in, wondering for just a moment if she hadn’t stepped through a portal which had taken her all the way to the Zebrican continent. She finally managed to tear her attention away from the décor and return it to her host, who had already made herself comfortable on a low-lying unpadded variety of chaise lounge, and was motioning to another across from her for Twilight to do the same. The unicorn did so, matching the zebra’s posture as best she could to attain some level of comfort on the hard surface. “I am led to understand that you have enjoyed an…exciting introduction to the island, Colonel Sparkle,” Zecora began, flashing a knowing smile her way. “It wasn’t how I expected things to go,” was what the unicorn would admit. ‘Informal’ dinner or not—and new to being a diplomat or not—Twilight was well acquainted with the concept of ‘operational security’ and that, even when dealing with an ally, the best practice was not to reveal anything which could be leveraged against herself or Equestria. If the unicorn sounded like she was unprepared or incapable of doing her job on Harmony to the zebra, that had the potential of coming back to bite her down the road. “But I’m used to adapting to challenging situations.” The ambassador issued an acknowledging nod. “Your reputation certainly precedes you in that regard, colonel. Especially among my kind.” Twilight very carefully did not externally react to the zebra’s words, though she did feel herself tense up. She hoped it wasn’t noticeable. Zecora held up a hoof. Her next words suggested to the unicorn that at least some of her apprehension had bled through her attempt to screen it. “Be at ease, colonel; I did not invite you here to discuss the past. I merely wished to point out that you have a reputation for being a pony who is capable of solving challenging problems.” “That’s probably the nicest way I’ve ever heard a zebra phrase it.” Twilight almost immediately winced at how the dry comment had sounded when it escaped her lips. Her host smiled and nodded in response. “Time heals; but it leaves scars. Those too may fade eventually, but it can take longer for some than others. “But I am offering my words as praise: Harmony Fortress’ purpose is an ambitious one—unprecedented in recorded history. No doubt the individual who helms it will encounter many harrowing challenges during her time here. You have previously demonstrated that you are capable of achieving success where all others only fail. “To that end, I believe that Harmony has been placed in good hooves. A belief that I saw vindicated this afternoon in the Council Chamber.” Twilight only barely managed to avert outright scowling at the striped mare this time, managing to divert her expression into just a frown. “The meeting started off a little more…spirited than I might have hoped,” the unicorn conceded. “Everything managed to work out probably as well as could have been expected, given the situation.” The unicorn wasn’t sure how much she could get away with saying directly without risking offending the ambassador, so she chose to end her comments there. “Very likely,” Zecora agreed. “The dragons would have been unlikely to leave Ragnar Island and return it to the griffons. Without finding a way to get them to release their griffon hostages, the Republic would have been left with little option but to send a military response to the island, possibly in the company of one or more of their allies. “The situation could quite easily have eventually spiraled into a rather widespread war. “Your intervention was timely, firm, effective, and—most importantly: peaceful.” “So glad that you approve, ambassador,” the little purple mare said through her now much more strained features. The zebra’s words sounded genuine enough to be interpreted as honest praise; and likely could have been taken as such at face value for anypony who didn’t have any other further context to go on. However, Twilight had been in the Council Chamber, and so she did have additional context. Specifically: she remembered that she’d asked the striped mare for help, and she had declined to get involved in the situation at all; leaving Twilight to stumble about and hope to find a solution on her own. With all of that in mind, it was very hard for the unicorn not to find Zecora’s praise a little patronizing. Which meant it was also hard to hold back the barbs that were trying to force their way past her tongue. “I just felt like somecreature needed to do something about it. “Maybe it’s the officer in me, but I’m not afraid to step up when nocreature else will.” Zecora appeared entirely unfazed by the poorly-veiled jab. Twilight knew—intellectually—that she should have been grateful that the zebra hadn’t taken offense and appeared willing to let the matter go. However, the ambassador’s lack of acknowledgement of how she’d rebuffed the unicorn’s request for assistance only made the pony more irritated. “Actions speak louder than words.” Twilight blinked in shock at the zebra’s apparent non sequitur. “I have come to understand that this sentiment is not one that is exclusively held by zebras,” Zecora continued. “Our previous experiences with Equestrian ‘actions’ have left my government wanting in the past.” The striped mare’s expression was not a warm one this time, though the coolness which invaded her turquoise eyes lingered only briefly before they became placid once more. “Equestria has made many bold claims regarding Harmony Fortress and its purpose—or, rather: the purpose that they officially allege.” She shared a knowing look with the purple unicorn. Twilight frowned now. “What do you mean? Harmony Fortress is—” “A fortress,” Zecora cut in with the firm tone of one who was making a point that they had not finished, and were not looking for comment until they were finished. The unicorn mare closed her mouth, but resolved to make the appropriate corrections on the ambassador’s interpretations once she was done. “Actions may be louder, but words still possess a volume all their own which creatures can hear,” Zecora continued. “And government’s are not known to be careless with their words—not when those words can shape the course of their nation on the world stage. “Statements on foreign policy, their ambitions, the names bestowed on their architectural achievements…” A knowing look was shared with the purple mare before she quickly moved on to her point. “Other nations take note of a government’s words and actions…and they form opinions accordingly. “Equestria leaped into view on the global stage through a brutal war—one of the largest seen in centuries. Then, after that war’s conclusion, they managed to emerge as one of the formally recognized major powers in the world. Achieving a status in less than a decade that most races have not managed to in centuries.” The small purple unicorn barely suppressed a grimace at the ambassador’s words. The way that the striped mare had phrased things made it sound quite implausible, to be fair. There was more nuance to it though. True, one would have logically expected that a nation and race who had been pushed to the brink of extinction would have a difficult time bouncing back at all to any meaningful degree—ever. Going on to be held in as high regard as the griffons? And even the powerful race which had come so very close to destroying them? To put it bluntly: the notion was absurd. However, the war had had a few unintended consequences for ponies. One of those consequences was to turn their race into something of a diaspora in the later years of the war. As it became more and more evident that Equestria was destined to lose, and as town after town was being raised to the ground, ponies—those who could, anyway—fled. They flung themselves to the far corners of the globe in an effort to escape the Zebrican threat, forming enclaves within nearly every other nation in the world who would take in refugees. Then…the war ended. The zebras conceded the war and returned back to their homeland. When news reached those far-flung pony communities, most of them returned back to their homeland and, with them, broad the political and economic inroads that were essential to establishing trade networks. Equestria, in that time of rebuilding, needed to import a lot of material and resources. It turned out that they also had much to offer in return that they had not expected: their magic. Unicorn spellcraft, pegasus weather control, earth pony agrarianism—ponies had long been ignorant of how scarce the magic that they took for granted was in the wider world… …And how valuable it was. Equestria bartered their highly-valuable magic for material and, in doing so, inadvertently became a trading powerhouse whose economic dominance had global reach. Equestria-owned ships—while technologically inferior to the others in their immediate peer group—were incredibly numerous and able to outperform other vessels in their class, thanks to the pegasi among their crews ensuring the ships always had favorable winds. “What did Equestria do shortly after achieving their status?” Zecora went on. “They built a military fortress the size of the city thousands of miles from their homeland. “A nation with a reputation for starting wars…building a waystation that would be capable of supporting future wars?” The striped mare raised a questioning brow at Twilight, though she did not wait for the unicorn to respond. “It made many of the other races understandably nervous. “The Griffonian Republic made their introduction to the world in much the same way: setting out from their homeland and establishing ‘trading posts’ on the shores of other lands…right before ‘civilizing’ those lands.” The ambassador’s expression was appropriately sardonic to suit the audibly poor opinion she had of the griffon practice. “Many in that room today believe that ponies seek to achieve the same sort of domination.” Now Zecora smiled at the other mare. “But, perhaps after seeing how Equestria’s representative sought to peacefully resolve a matter with a mere exchange of words…? “We can hope that their expectations are appropriately tempered.” Twilight gaped for several long seconds in stunned silence at the ambassador. Her aid entered the room, deposited two saucers of steaming coffee and left without a word or twitch from the unicorn. Her attention was so focused on her host that the unicorn spent a second wondering if their drinks had been teleported to them. “...You were testing me?” “I was giving the other representatives an opportunity to see your character on display,” Zecora corrected gently. She took up her saucer in her hooves and took a sip, letting out a contented sigh. Twilight frowned, her own drink remaining untouched so far. “That was a pretty big risk you took,” she pointed out. “What if I’d stayed out of Gilda and Ember’s fight? You couldn’t have known I’d want to stop it—or that I could. “You told me that you know of ‘my reputation’; I know perfectly well the ‘reputation’ I have with the zebras. For all you knew, I’d have jumped at the chance to get Equestria into another war!” Twilight snapped. “On the contrary: I knew specifically that you would not.” “How?! You don’t even know me!” “I said that we had never been formally introduced,” Zecora offered another gentle correction before taking another sip of her coffee, “and we have not; but I do know you, Colonel Twilight Sparkle—your heart.” Once more, Twilight was stunned into confused silence as she tried to make sense of the zebra mare’s contradictory words. Zecora smiled. “There were many in that room who have made the assumption that the Equestrian military officer sitting upon a council of peace and diplomacy will achieve nothing worthwhile here, because she is—what is the pony expression? Ah! Yes: that you are ‘out of your element’.” The ambassador then chuckled to herself, finding her words far funnier than Twilight thought she should have, before she took another sip of her coffee and grinned at the unicorn now. “But I know better. “Please, Colonel Sparkle, try the coffee. It is a blend that will pair well with dinner, I assure you…” Author's Note As you can see, while I wasn't willing to write rhyming dialogue for Zecora for the whole story, I'm still perfectly willing to have her speak in riddles! As always, a thumbs up and comment are always greatly appreciated If you like the cover art and want to see more stories get them, I've set up a Cover Art Fund if you're interested and have any bits lying around! Chapter 4: Ship of Tears“The ship’s name?” “Dominance.” “Hull?” “Iklwa-class cruiser. Laid down in twelve-thirty-four at the Saltsbury Shipyards. She has a top flank speed of twenty-five knots and her armament consists of eight six-inch guns, three mounted on each side and one each fore and aft. Plus four three-pounder guns in her secondary battery.” “That is…correct.” Major Rarity announced after looking up from the notes that she was consulting in order to verify Twilight’s answers and flashed her superior a wry smile. “Am I supposed to be awarding you extra credit for going beyond the scope of the questions I’m asking you?” The slightly smaller purple unicorn flushed. “...This isn’t for a grade,” Twilight Sparkle insisted huffy…and with only a tiny hint of disappointment. “I just want to be sure that I know who I’m dealing with. As Harmony Fortress’ commander, I should know something about the ships that visit the ports. Next question.” “Mm-hmm. Very well, let’s see…” The alabaster-hued executive officer skimmed over the file that had been provided to them by the Zebrican Embassy, as required by fortress regulations. While most cargo ships were free to come and go without giving advanced notification—although that was still considered to be ‘best practice’, if only to ensure that sufficient dock-hooves were available to tend to the ship’s cargo loading and unloading needs—it was a wholly different matter where bona fide warships were concerned. The other nations of the world were free to send naval vessels to Harmony, whether to resupply them with fuel and provisions, or simply shore leave for their crews, they just simply had to tell somepony first that a ship bristling with guns was going to be appearing over the horizon. “The name of her captain?” Rarity finally posed. “Kapteni Trafalgar. He assumed command two years ago. Prior to this assignment, he was the executive officer about the cruiser Shark. Prior to that, he was the chief gunnery officer on the battleship Volcano…” The next was added under Twilight’s breath, almost as an afterthought. “...including while she was in Manehattan Harbor.” Twilight had been there too. She remembered how the battleship’s guns had sounded—like thunder bursts in the night. How the flashes had illuminated what remained of the city. The feel of the impacts of those one-ton shells as they hit— Major Rarity was not sure how—or even if—she was supposed to offer comment on her senior officer’s last statement, and so she elected not to. The pair walked in silence on their way to the fortress’ main port for a while under the greatly sobered mood until Twilight finally took a breath and shook her melancholy off. A lot of zebras had taken part in the invasion of Equestria. A lot of those zebras were still serving in the Zebrican military. Ten years wasn’t really all that long. After all: Twilight was still serving too. She was bound to meet zebras that she’d encountered before during the war. She was sure that she would continue to do so in the future. The past is past; so let it pass… “Next question.” The pair of unicorns continued to engage in their exchange until they finally came within sight of the pier that they were heading to. Twilight’s eyes immediately darted to the massive gray hull which had anchored itself beyond the fortress’ harbor. Dominance was far too large to properly dock along one of Harmony’s piers, which had been—perhaps mistakenly, given Harmony’s purpose—primarily around accommodating pony-designed hulls. As it stood, the zebra cruiser was the next best thing to three times the length of the average Equestrian cargo galleon. Even if Dominance hadn’t been though, it would have been a ‘waste’ of dock space to take one up with a ship that wasn’t either bringing in or departing with cargo. Crew and supplies would instead be ferried to and from the warship on smaller cutters and pinnaces which could easily dock within the fortress. A zebra-built tender was already moored alongside the cruiser to restock the warship’s coal bunkers. Twilight returned her focus now to the docks, and the specific pier that represented their destination. She could already see several zebras standing around at the far end. The unicorn recognized two of them. Or, rather, she recognized the massive stripped stallion that she’d met during her dinner with Zecora last week and was logically deducing that the mare he was closely shadowing was the Zebrican ambassador. She didn’t know any of the other three zebras though, she was pretty sure. The striped ambassador was the first to notice the approach of the pony delegation. She broke off her conversation to turn towards Twilight and Rarity, waving a bangled hoof in greeting. “Ah! Colonel, thank you for honoring my request.” “Of course, Ambassador. Anything to help build the bonds of friendship between our races.” Twilight’s words weren’t—quite—strained, but there was no denying that the small purple unicorn didn’t feel just a little wary of the zebra. Learning that she’d been subjected to something of a diplomatic ‘trial by fire’ had not done a lot to ingratiate the ambassador into Twilight’s good graces. In her opinion, there were other ways to have demonstrated to the rest of the delegates that the unicorn officer truly believed in Harmony Fortress’ mission of peace. She had chosen not to press the matter though. Their dinner last week had at least gone amicably enough once they started actually eating. Since that first meeting, at least, the Zebrican Ambassador had been considerably more willing to offer her experience to Twilight in mitigating other disputes that had arisen during future meetings. The two of them actually seemed to be on the path of developing a productive working relationship. Which was why Twilight had been amenable to being part of the welcome party for the crew of the Dominance. As the unicorn understood things: the residents of Harmony were likely to see a lot of the Zebrican ship for the next several months, as the cruiser was tasked with performing anti-piracy patrols in the vicinity of the Moonfall Archipelago. Zecora inclined her head in an acknowledging bow before turning to introduce the three new zebras standing with her on the pier. She first indicated an older stallion whose stripes looked to be just starting to fade. The deep blue coat, whose shade was not so very far removed from Twilight’s own, marked the stallion as being a member of their navy, and the trio of four-pointed golden stars on his left collar identified his rank as: captain—‘kapteni’ in the zebra’s language. Translated across branches and nations, the older stallion’s military rank was approximately on par with Twilight’s own. “Colonel? May I introduce: Kapteni Trafalgar, commanding officer of the Dominance,” Zecora began. “Kapteni? Colonel Twilight Sparkle, commander of Harmony Fortress.” The eyes of the other two new zebras widened. Trafalgar’s acquired a slightly amused glint even as they narrowed slightly. The corner of his lip curled upward into something that could—if one was inclined to be very generous—be called a ‘smile’. He raised a leg and extended it towards the purple unicorn in initiation of a polite hoof-bump. “It is a privilege to finally meet the illustrious ‘Stripe-Bane’ face-to-face.” Twilight, who had been in the middle of extending her own hoof to meet the stallion’s, hesitated. All of the equines on their part of the pier seemed to freeze in place for several long seconds, if for different reasons. The other two newly-arrived zebras continued their semi-awed stare at the purple pony. Zecora’s expression was close to a glare as she looked ready to rebuke the ship’s captain for being so direct with his crass statement. Rarity looked confused, appearing to wonder if she were missing some context that would let her in on what she suspected was some odd variety of zebra joke. The purple unicorn finally reached across the remaining divide and met the taller stallion’s hoof with her own. “I had a nephew in White Tail,” Trafalgar stated in something that could have passed for a conversational tone in most other contexts. His eyes were fixed on Twilight’s. She met his gaze with matched intensity, though her tone was slightly less unassuming. “I had an uncle in Manehattan.” The silence which followed was deafening. It finally broke when Zecora quite loudly cleared her throat, her turquoise eyes still boring into the naval commander. He didn’t seem to notice, his attention was still fixed on Twilight. Kapteni Trafalgar chuckled and dropped his hoof away from the unicorn’s. “I look forward to exchanging stories of the war with you, Kanali Sparkle.” He took a step back and then diverted Twilight’s attention to a mare about Twilight’s age standing just behind him. She was wearing a uniform similar to his own, but with only two stars pinned to her collar. “My second: Kammandi Gagasi.” The mare said nothing, offering only a courteous nod. Her eyes had at least returned to their original size since hearing Twilight’s name spoken aloud. Next the older stallion indicated a younger zebra dressed in the brilliant crimson coat denoting a member of their marine corps. A silver spear was pinned to his jacket collar. “Luteni Khanisa, the head of my ship’s marine detachment.” The zebra—who looked more like a colt to Twilight—bowed his head slightly towards the unicorn. “Your reputation is known,” the young marine officer said in heavily accented Equestrian with a note of reverence as he inclined his head in greeting. “I am honored to meet so great a warrior as you.” Twilight stiffly returned the bow with a slight incline of her own head. The unicorn hadn’t been particularly receptive to the praise for her ‘heroics’ when it had been her own government heaping it upon her. Being commended by former adversaries for killing so many of their comrades was considerably more disconcerting. “Welcome, all of you, to Harmony Fortress.” Twilight decided that the best thing she could do was to simply begin the speech that she’d prepared to greet their new arrivals. “We’re grateful for your and your crew’s efforts to keep the waters around the island safe. This is my executive officer, Major Rarity—” “Charmed.” “—She’ll be your point of contact here on Harmony if you have any concerns.” Twilight’s horn began to glow, wrapping a binder that she had prepared earlier in an amethyst aura. She floated it towards the ship’s second-in-command, whom she was sure the responsibility for reviewing the contents would fall to anyway. “This contains a list of all the establishments that your crew might enjoy while on the island, as well as marking areas of the fort which we recommend that you tell your crew are off-limits.” Kammandi Gagasi took the binder in her hooves a heartbeat before the telekinetic field dissolved and began to leaf through it. She glanced up at Twilight with a raised eyebrow. “Oh...I see it’s color-coded.” A smile touched the unicorn’s cheeks as she interpreted the observation as a compliment. “I also took the liberty of listing the restaurants in order of customer satisfaction reviews—highest to lowest—then, from there, they’re organized by cuisine, price, and name in alphabetical order. There are also maps with suggested routes to each one from the pier, with options for the shortest route, least crowded route, and routes with the fewest turns.” The cruiser’s executive officer had been sifting through the packet while Twilight described it. The marine officer at her side craned his neck to see the contents for himself. He cocked his head, his gaze shifting to Twilight. “You used the symbols for land maneuvers? The zebra symbols?” Twilight cleared her throat. “I wanted them to be easy to understand, and I knew that you were all military so…” “This is very thorough,” Gagasi finally said, closing the binder and tucking it into a satchel at her side. “It must have taken you some time to put this together. We appreciate the effort.” Khanisa straightened back up and nodded. “So much time…” Rarity sighed under her breath. “Why are our movements restricted, Kanali Sparkle?” Trafalgar broke in, gaining the attention of the others as well. “Are we not allies? Does Equestria not trust their Zebrican brethren?” The non-smile was back on his lips as he looked down at the smaller purple unicorn. “...Or is it simply Stripe-Bane who does not trust?” Twilight’s mood instantly soured again as she turned to meet the older stallion’s challenge. She didn’t take his bait though. “As I said: we recommend that you keep your crew away from certain areas. It’s not about ‘trust’; it’s about their safety. Areas of the fort that are undergoing maintenance and repair, the armories, the cargo transfer points, places that aren’t going to be of much benefit to somecreature trying to enjoy shore leave, and could actually be dangerous to visit if you don’t know what dangers to even be aware of in the first place. “If you want to wander around the East Tower, Kapteni, be my guest!” Twilight waved her hoof in the direction of one of the towers abutting the fort’s main spire, one which was presently ringed by scaffolding while it underwent renovations to accommodate additional foreign embassy suites as other races expressed interest in establishing Missions on Harmony. “Just don’t come crying to Major Rarity when you’re crushed to death by a falling sack of stones.” There had already been a lethal accident since the renovations had started. Which was actually better than was typical for work of that scope… “The colonel is being perfectly reasonable, Kapteni,” Zecora finally broke in, eyeing the broader stallion critically. There was a slight edge to her tone, and Twilight saw the ears of the ship’s captain pin back upon hearing it. “You would tell any visitor aboard the Dominance not to venture into the magazines and boiler rooms, would you not?” He nodded, clearing his throat and wincing. Twilight thought he almost looked like a foal who’d been reprimanded by their mother. “As a visitor to Colonel Sparkle’s fortress, you should be more respectful. She is the ‘kapteni’ here, Trafalgar,” the ambassador admonished, and not very lightly. The captain actually kneeled towards the ambassador now, bending a foreleg as he did so. “Nsamehe, Holi-Khulu—” “Speak Equestrian!” Zecora snapped suddenly, and with considerably more bite in her tone that Twilight had even thought the striped mare was capable of—let alone had ever heard. Not even when speaking with Ambassador Gilda. The ambassador had actually sounded almost angry…and the purple unicorn was finding it difficult to fathom why. Sure, Trafalgar was being a bit of an ass, but it wasn’t anything that Twilight hadn’t encountered before. In the unicorn’s own experience, a lot of zebra veterans from The Great War—or, as the zebras called it: The Equestrian Campaign—weren’t huge fans of hers. It wasn’t anything new to her, and she expected the treatment to endure for quite some time into the future. “...And use my proper title, kapteni,” Zecora said. Twilight almost missed the brief shift of the ambassador’s eyes in her own direction as she spoke to Trafalgar. The cruiser’s captain swallowed. The other two zebras standing near him had visibly paled in the aftermath of Zecora’s earlier command. They bent their foreleg and knelt now as well. “Your forgiveness…Ambassador.” Twilight privately decided that she needed to do a little more research into the finer workings of the Zebrican government. The naval officer had just uttered Zecora’s title with a much more reverent inflection that Twilight ever would have if she’d been speaking to one of her own government’s political appointees. The unicorn was mostly certain that zebra society didn’t have a noble class or anything similar… Admittedly, it wasn’t like she’d studied a lot of academic sources on Zebrican society prior to the war. In her defense, there hadn’t been any. Not in Equestria, anyway. “Your trip was a long one, and you are doubtlessly tired as a result,” Zecora said by way of excusing the lapse in courtesy on the ship captain’s behalf. “Which is why you are here to partake in shore leave,” she concluded for him. “I think you would do well to return to your ship and finalize the rotation of your crew, kapteni. You and I will have an opportunity to speak again later. In private.” None of the three still-kneeling zebras looked up to meet Zecora’s gaze. Twilight saw Trafalgar swallow again. Zecora turned her attention now to Twilight, her expression soft and the familiar gentle smile on her lips. “Thank you for your help in accommodating our sailors, colonel. I greatly appreciate your efforts.” The ambassador issued a polite nod of her head in Twilight and Rarity’s direction and turned to depart from the pier. Her attendant, Grevy, followed in the ambassador’s wake, giving the two ponies a wordless nod as well. Only when they had left the pier did the officers rise back up onto their hooves. Gagasi and Khanisa reopened the binder that Twilight had given them and stepped away to start discussing its contents in their own language in low tones. Trafalgar took a slow breath before turning to regard Twilight once more. The next words looked like they had needed to be physically pulled out from his throat. “I am…sorry…for my words and…behavior, Stri—Kanali Sparkle.” It took him another moment to bring himself to say the next words. “I am tired. My tongue outpaced my thoughts.” The other two zebras were very determindly looking like they were not paying attention to the exchange. Sometimes their ears were even facing in the proper direction to not be listening in on it. There was a lot that Twilight could have said to the old stallion—a lot that she wanted to say—in light of his earlier rudeness. However, she’d never been in the habit of kicking a surrendered opponent during the war; and she wasn’t about to get into it now. “Your apology is accepted, Kapteni Trafalgar. I hope that you and your crew find suitable rest on Harmony. “Enjoy your stay.” Twilight turned and started departing the pier as well. Rarity fell in at her side. “Well…that was certainly a ‘thing’; wasn’t it, colonel?” The purple unicorn saw what her XO was attempting to do, but Twilight wasn’t up for being distracted right now. Her mind was too occupied with trying to solve some of the new variables that had been presented to her. “I need you to go to the library.” “Pardon?” “The library,” Twilight repeated, “in The Citadel. I need you—or for you to send somepony—to go to the library and pull every book and scroll we have on how the zebra government is structured. Some language books too. I want to know what ‘Holi-Khulu’ means.” “Whatever for, colonel?” “Did you see how those zebras were kneeling back there?” Twilight’s streaked tail casually flicked in the direction of the uniformed zebras behind them. “Not ‘bowing’—kneeling! I’ve never seen zebra officers kneel like that—especially officer’s of Trafalgar’s rank—not even to generals. “Zecora’s an ambassador—some government appointee. They acted like she was royalty.” “We’ve seen griffons act that way towards government officials,” Rarity felt compelled to point out. “Most griffon government officials are members of the nobility. They aren’t given that level of respect because of their position in the government; they get given their positions in their government as a sign of respect,” Twilight absently corrected her executive officer, her thoughts still swirling with explanations for what she’d seen…and coming up with few that stood up to more than a second of scrutiny. “Zebras don’t have a noble class—or at least I’ve never heard of one. “That’s why I want you to find the books we have on the subject.” “Yes, ma’am. I’ll get on it once I’m back at The Citadel.” A brief pause, then, “If I may, colonel: why do you seem so set on this? So what if Ambassador Zecora has some level of social status in zebra society that gets her a little extra respect or grants her some authority that a regular Equestrian ambassador wouldn’t have; what does that really matter?” It was a fair question, Twilight knew; especially since she was giving her second-in-command a decent bit of extra work because of her concern over this matter. Twilight probably did owe the other unicorn an explanation. “I want to know how far her authority goes with other zebras. She has enough clout to put a senior naval officer in his place; what about a wealthy civilian trying to circumvent cargo handling duties? Can I go directly to her to get it sorted out, or do I need to send a scroll all the way back to Roam for results?” Twilight simply hadn’t felt comfortable giving Rarity the real explanation… The purple unicorn’s thoughts drifted back to the dinner that she’d shared with Zecora—the conversation that the two of them had had about the Council meeting. The words that had been used— She said that she ‘knows me’, but insists that we’ve never met… No…she insisted on the phrase: ‘never formally introduced’. That’s not the same thing. Zecora and I have met before, she just won’t tell me where or when. I hadn’t met many zebras before getting picked to command Harmony Or, rather: I hadn’t ‘been formally introduced’ to many zebras. I ‘met’ a lot of them during the war… Did that mean that Zecora was…? —Ambassadors, by their profession, were very particular about the words that they used. They had to be. After all, there was a world of difference between: ‘being belligerent’ and ‘being a belligerent’. And only a single word of difference. Zecora was hiding things. Usually that wouldn’t bother Twilight all that much. The zebra was serving as an ambassador for her government; she was supposed to hide things from the other representatives as part of her negotiating tactics—Twilight was hiding things! The striped mare hiding secrets about her government’s interests on certain sensitive matters was one thing though. Twilight could let that slide. But Zecora was hiding things about Twilight, and that was a different matter entirely. “I see. I suppose I can see what you’re after,” Rarity said. “I’ll have somepony drop off the books I find sometime tomorrow, I should think.” “Thank you, major; I appreciate it.” “De rien, colonel; think nothing of it.” Rarity smiled and issued a small dismissive wave of her hoof. “Is there anything else you’d like me to look into?” “No, I think that should cover things.” Twilight glanced up towards the nearest clocktower. “I have a meeting with Captain Applejack I need to get to. She’s going to brief me on the weapon emplacements on the bastions. “Carry on, major. I’ll see you at the evening briefing.” Twilight exchanged a brief salute with the ivory unicorn before trotting off to meet with her military police commander. Harmony Fortress was a truly massive installation; unprecedented in her size—at least where pony history was concerned. The island was ringed by literal miles of protective fortifications. dozens of smaller individual bastions protruded out into the sea in concert with its six primary points, providing the fort with interlocking fields of fire from thousands of the large cannons which made up Harmony’s shore batteries. To properly mare every gun simultaneously required ten thousand or more ponies. Such a force would have been an army all its own. Keeping those soldiers fed and housed would have required just about the entirety of the island’s imported resources and available space, leaving hardly any room for the workers and infrastructure required to sustain its trading capabilities. Harmony would have truly been nothing more than a military installation in such a case. So, in the interests of maintaining Harmony’s status as a viable trading hub, and cutting down on the cost to the Equestrian government to operate the fortress, there weren’t enough trained ponies to operate every gun that made up her batteries. All told, there were enough members of the island’s artillery section to reasonably operate approximately five percent of the available guns simultaneously. This didn’t sound like all that many at a glance, Twilight conceded; but when compared to the total number of guns available, it still represented hundreds of pieces being operated all at once. Against even one of the zebra’s more advanced and well-armored warships, that would prove quite a daunting amount of firepower to face off against. Though the marepower disparity did mean that the island’s defenders would be hard-pressed to fend off coordinated attacks from a multitude of angles. At a glance, that too would have looked like quite the oversight. Of course, the reality was that any naval force which arrived in sufficient numbers to surround Harmony Fortress would also have had more than enough ships to outright blockade the island anyway. Realistically, such a hypothetical force wouldn’t even need to engage Hormany’s defensive batteries. They could just anchor out at sea and wait for the inhabitants to run out of food. In a way, Harmony Fortress’ defenses were more performative than substantive. The island couldn’t be left entirely undefended, obviously; otherwise they’d inevitably be raided by pirates looking to acquire some valuables with little risk to their vessels. Of course, installing any defensive emplacements which were obviously capable of demolishing the odd pirate ship or raiding flotilla would never end up being used for such a purpose: the would-be pirates would turn around the moment their lookout counted their way past the hundredth canon and realized they were still looking at the same projecting bastion! Barring a genuinely suicidal pirate crew looking to die in a blaze of glory and cannon fire, Harmony’s shore batteries would never fire a shot in anger. Which suited Twilight just fine, if she was being perfectly honest. Of course, there was something to be said for knowing that the fortress could repel a hypothetical attacker to great effect which let the installation’s commander sleep a little more soundly at night. “—An’ we’ve managed t’ wallop targets out ta three whole miles with these new guns!” Captain Applejack said as she and Twilight watched the gun crew finish up loading the piece that they were preparing to fire for the demonstration. The purple unicorn shifted her attention out to sea, where a small raft had been towed and anchored into position about two miles from the island’s shore. It was a rather simple construction: some lashed-together logs which supported a sturdy section of wall meant to replicate the hull of a ship. Twilight noted that the wall in question had steel sheeting fastened to wooden framing, much like would be found in the construction of griffon steamships. Twilight idly wondered how Ambassador Gilda would feel if she found out about that. She also wondered if the reason that Applejack hadn’t opted for a mock-up of a zebra ship’s hull was due to the presence of the cruiser anchored in the bay. If so, then the unicorn applauded the security mare’s discretion. The gun crew completed loading their round and aiming the weapon at the—mostly—stationary target. They passed Applejack a hoof signal that they were ready to fire and the orange earth pony gave them a nod. Twilight used her telekinesis to make final adjustments to the formed wax stopper that she’d placed into her ears as the gun captain for the crew gave an earth pony holding the firing lanyard the signal to pull. It felt to Twilight like every part of her body vibrated with the sound of the blast. Several seconds later, out at sea, the purple unicorn saw the spout of water as the projectile bounced off the surface…about two ponylengths to the left of the raft that the crew had been aiming for. Honestly, Twilight didn’t think that it had been a bad shot under the circumstances. The crew had certainly gotten the range and elevation right. Had the target raft been as broad as an actual cruiser or battleship, the vessel would absolutely have been impacted by the shot. That didn’t mean that Applejack was satisfied with the performance of one of her gun crews though. “Reload!” the sturdy earth pony mare bellowed. “This time try aimin’ at it with both yer eyes open, Caramel! “If y’all ain’t on target this time, Ah’mma have ya swim out to it an’ knock it over, y’hear?!” Twilight heard the chorus of muffled acknowledgements as the ponies scrambled to pull the gun back from the wall on its carriage and began to swiftly reload it. As Twilight eyed the bags of pre-measured powder being carried towards the bore to be loaded she leaned closer to Applejack so that the earth pony could hear her through her own plugged ears. “That’s a little harsh. They came pretty close, all things considered.” “‘Close’ is for tossin’ horseshoes,” the orange mare scoffed in reply. “Ain’t no ship e’er been sunk by a cannonball lan’in’ ‘close’ to ‘em!” “That target out there is a lot smaller than a ship,” the unicorn tried once more to excuse the unsatisfactory—to Applejack—performance of the gun crew. They were loading in the shell now. It was no ‘cannonball’ as the captain had alluded to, but rather one of the newer conical explosive-packed munitions that had recently been developed. They didn’t quite pack the same punch as those employed by the zebras—Twilight understood that they used something with a little more ‘pizzazz’ than simple gunpowder for their charges—but they were more than capable of causing massive damage to a target. Supposing that they actually hit it. “A ship’s broadside maybe,” the other mare conceded, “but what about’a bow profile? Lahk when a ship’s common’ right at us? That right there’s about the size of a frigate makin’ an approach.” This time it was Twilight who was forced to concede the observation with a nod. “Now, maybe a ship ain’t gonna be doin’ a lotta shootin’ at us like that—certainly not at two miles out,” Applejack continued. “But Ah can’t see no reason to let’em get close enough t’where they’re comfortable shootin’ broadsides at us. “Better we sink’em before they get that close, I reckon. We got an elevated position and a sturdier firin’ platform,” the earth pony stomped her hoof on the stone flooring of the bastion. “Ah aim to capitalize on it.” Now the mare’s emerald eyes narrowed at the gun crew—specifically their captain. “An someponies better aim period! Caramel!” The amber earth pony—whom Twilight assumed was the stallion in question—winced beneath the felt glare of his superior officer as he climbed up to check the muzzle’s sighting. Then he checked it again. Then a third time. He moved to climb back down…then he hesitated and took another sighting. Applejack apparently decided he was taking long enough. “Today, corporal!” Caramel jerked and hopped down from the gun. He took hold of the readied lanyard in his teeth, checked the positions of the rest of his crew around the breech of the weapon, and gave the rope a firm yank. Once more, the mighty gun bucked and roared. Once more, Twilight turned to peer at the distant raft. It erupted in a geyser of water, splinters, and twisted metal sheeting. Most of the gun crew cheered at their success. Caramel’s hind end collapsed as a wave of relief visibly crashed over his features. For her part, Captain Applejack looked genuinely satisfied…for about half a second. She had managed to mask the expression by the time she’d turned back to regard the gun crew, shooting them all an annoyed glare. “Now why couldn’t y’all’ve done that the first time? Makin’ me look bad in front of the commander by not gettin’ it in one, like Ah know y’can?” She chided, jabbing a hoof in Twilight’s direction. “Report to the docks,” she snapped at the group. “Y’all’re gonna help the carpenters there make a dozen more target rafts. Then y’all’re gonna be up here at dawnbreak shootin’ at ‘em until ya don’t need to resight a target. Caramel.” And with that, the collective cheer of the gun crew had been thoroughly quashed. The six-pony crew released a collective groan and went about standing the gun down. Twilight heard a few comments being muttered in the direction of their gun captain, and none of them were particularly flattering. The unicorn and earth pony officers turned and resumed the tour of the fortress’ defenses. “I wish we’d had guns like that ten years ago,” Twilight said with a sigh, her magic plucking the wax from her ears before helping the commander of the military police company remove hers. “They probably wouldn’t have won us the war, but they’d have made the zebras hurt a little more…” “Might’a kept ‘em at bay long enough to evacuate more ponies,” Applejack said. The purple unicorn walking beside her silently nodded in agreement. The two mares said nothing for several long minutes as they continued their walk along the wall, occasionally pausing to check that guns had been properly stowed, their muzzles plugged to prevent seebirds from trying to make a home of their barrels. Twilight made notes of instances of rust that she saw. She penciled a reminder to herself to have an inspection off all the gun carriages conducted to replace bearings which were showing signs of corrosion. “Y’all got any family what survived the war, colonel?” The question surprised Twilight, both in its appearance and its subject matter, so it took her a moment to form her answer. “My parents. They were in Canterlot.” “Lucked out, Ah guess.” “Yeah. I guess.” Several long moments of silence. “You said you were from Dodge Junction? How about your family? Were they…you know?” “Some,” Applejack confirmed stiffly. “Apples are a big family. We’re all over Equestria.” A grimace followed by a sigh. “Well…were, at any rate. Brother and sister both survived. They’re both here too; I relocated them to the island with me. “Brother tends to the gardens. Mah sister…” The earth pony mare’s eyes narrowed as she turned to survey the interior of the island, as though searching for something. Twilight couldn’t imagine what the mare was looking for though. Not much was visible from where they were. A little bit of the more ‘lively’ part of Ponyville, but other than that… “...She mostly causes problems.” The mare’s ears lofted forward, seeking out distant sounds. Applejack maintained her stare for some time before finally relaxing and resuming her leisurely walk along the wall. “Not at the moment though. Shockin’ly…” Twilight couldn’t help but chuckle. She recalled being something of a hoofful herself, in very specific ways. “Siblings; we love to hate them.” “Yeah,” the orange earth pony sighed in agreement, a wistful smile curling the corner of her own lip. “We do at that.” Applejack lifted her head, peering up into the air. Then she glanced over her shoulder towards Twilight. “Fancy an early supper, colonel?” “I could eat,” the purple unicorn decided after a few moment’s thought. She hadn’t eaten a lot for lunch. Her relatively recent interaction with Trafalgar had left her appetite wanting at the time. Now though, she’d put it far enough behind her to feel like she could eat a proper meal this time. “Have a place in mind, captain?” “Ah know a little place, sure. Follow me!” The two mares descended from the wall and headed towards the fortress’ interior. It wasn’t too long after midday, and the streets were still filled with creatures going about their errands and getting in a little shopping like they usually did. If there was anything different about today, it was that Twilight spotted a few more uniformed zebras than she was used to seeing. Most were wearing the blue or red uniforms of the Zebrican navy and marines; almost certainly members of the Dominance’s crew. They traveled mostly in pairs or trios, from what the unicorn was seeing, with few groups being much larger than five. Judging from the sections of the markets that they were concentrated in, most of them were availing themselves to the fresher fruits and vegetables for sale in the markets than what was available to them back on the ship. There also seemed to be a good number of them patronizing the local bars and taverns. “It’s right over here,” Applejack said, directing the purple unicorn towards an otherwise unassuming stall which had a couple of tables out in front of it. The sign above it read: ‘Windy’s’, next to a painted sign depicting a young grinning mare with her mane done up in a pair of braids. “They’ve got the best soyburgers on the island,” the earth pony insisted. “Decent enough hayfries too.” The pair placed their orders for two of the specials and then relaxed at one of the tables. Twilight found her mind wandering as she watched the activity around her. Ponies, zebras, griffons, minotaurs, and a menagerie of other creatures all wandered the streets, browsing wares and ordering food. The sight brought a smile to the unicorn’s face. The various creatures of the world, going about their day in the company of one another. Existing together… It was…nice. It gave Twilight hope. Well, the illusion of hope anyway, the mare supposed with a bitter thought. There were more variables at play than might immediately occur to the casual observer: for one, the population on Harmony didn’t consist of anything that might even be charitably considered to be a ‘random sample’. The island’s inhabitants weren’t just any old collection of creatures: they were all on Harmony because they wanted to be on Harmony. These beings wanted to live among other races. Whether to facilitate business, to learn, because they had a fascination with ‘the foreign’—the reasons might be their own, but the result was the same: This was ‘artificial’ harmony. Harmony of coincidence. Twilight knew that, if she went back to Canterlot, she wouldn’t find many non-pony races outside of the diplomatic enclaves. The same would be true for Roam, Griffonstone, Smog…the overwhelming majority of creatures had no interest in living among other races. They preferred their own kind—the familiar. Harmony Fortress was an anomaly. In many ways, it was even an experiment. One with a lot of variables— Applejack was the first to pick up on the disturbance. Her ears perked up, turning in concert to face the direction from which the subtle shift in atmosphere appeared to be originating. Twilight picked up on the rising emotions in the air a few seconds later when she noticed that a lot of other creatures making their way along the road were slowing their pace and turning their heads in one particular direction. Silence began to descend. It allowed both mares to more easily pick out the yelling. Both ponies were out of their seats and moving at a gallop, their half-eaten meals forgotten, the moment they heard the sound of breaking glass. “So help me…if those two are at it again—!” Applejack was snarling as she raced ahead of the smaller purple unicorn. Twilight did her best to keep up with the faster mare, but it was always hard to match an earth pony’s raw physical attributes. Twilight did silently share the head of security’s sentiment though: she really didn’t want to have to deal with the aftermath of one of Gilda and Ember’s fights right now. Not after what she’d gone through with Trafalgar this morning. Much to the two mares’ surprise—though by no means their relief—neither ambassador appeared to be present at the site of the disturbance. Indeed, while there was genuinely a fight going on in the middle of one of the district’s more narrow streets, there wasn’t much of a sign of any griffons or dragons being involved in it. The belligerents in this instance were limited to ponies and zebras. The former wearing blue uniforms that were similar to Twilights, while the latter wore scarlet. Oh no… If Applejack was struck by the parallel between this fight and The Great War, the broad-shouldered orange earth pony gave no sign. She simply leaped into the middle of the fray and started bucking combatants away from one another. Several other ponies, dressed in the gray vests which identified them as belonging to the fortress’ military police, soon arrived on the scene and quickly charged in to try and separate the equines as well. However, with the melee already in full swing, the ponies and zebras involved were effectively oblivious to anything beyond their immediate opponent. She tried to use her telekinesis to haul ponies and zebras apart from one another, but it was difficult for her to manage holding multiple targets like that simultaneously. Likewise, her shouted orders for the ponies nominally under her command to withdraw were going unheeded. Nopony was listening to her, and Twilight couldn’t yell loud enough to get their attention. Twilight ground her teeth in frustration. Her gaze darted towards more crimson-coated zebras rounding a corner. There was little doubt in the purple mare’s mind that the fight would escalate if it wasn’t stopped completely; and soon. The unicorn’s magic lanced out towards a nearby stall that was peddling in cheap jewelry, snagging an opal pendant. It wasn’t a particularly high-quality stone. In fact, in Twilight’s own opinion, even the suspiciously discounted price was far higher than the quality of the gemstone justified. However, poor quality or not, the purple mare judged that it would suffice. She focused her magic and cast her spell. A moment later, Twilight whipped the now-glowing opal into the air above the mass of brawling equines. In a technical sense, the result was an ‘explosion’. However, to have described the event as such would have doubtlessly conjured an image in the mind that far exceeded the actual spectacle Twilight created. To borrow an expression used by the diamond dogs: the blast was ‘all bark and no bite’. Loud yes; but not destructive to any noteworthy extent. At least, beyond the temporary damage that might have been done to an eardrum or two. Twilight’s efforts had the desired effect though: the sound of what could forgivably be mistaken for a grenade detonating above their heads made every combatant pause. Punches and kicks alike froze mid-delivery as all eyes went skyward. Yells and curses died in slack jaws. There was silence. Then Twilight was shouting: “Stand down!” Ears, both striped and pastel, pinned back as heads turned in the direction of the uniformed purple officer. “Break this up; now!” Ponies and zebras each tentatively released their opponents and started to back away. Those who couldn’t stand up were dragged by their comrades. Those who weren’t moving fast enough for Applejack’s liking were ‘helped’ along by her security ponies. The zebras likewise started to police their own. For the most part, anyway. Twilight’s gaze was immediately drawn to one part of the mob where a pony and zebra pair looked to still be trying to continue the fight. Fortunately, each was being held back by their fellows. “I said: this fight is over!” the unicorn snapped, irritably as she stomped her way over to where the snarling equines were still trying to get at one another. The Equestrian of the pair, a soft pink earth pony mare whose uniform sleeve bore the—now mostly torn off—chevrons of a sergeant, snapped back at Twilight. “This bitch killed Sage Brush!” The unicorn mare stalled. Her amethyst eyes darted to a forest green stallion laying on the ground nearby. One of his comrades and a gray-vested security pony were already looking him over. However, even from where Twilight was standing, she could see that the bloodied stallion was dead. She’d seen enough death to recognize it easily. Her eyes now turned towards the snarling zebra mare that was still struggling to get free of the stallions straining to hold her back. While it was hard to spot on her crimson uniform’s coat, the blood splattered across her face and dripping from her shoed hooves was easy enough to spot. “Alinishambulia!” The striped mare spat, unhelpfully. Her repetition of the word didn’t aid Twilight with its comprehension. One of her companions, at least, appeared to know some Equestrian. Or, at least, was calm enough to bother to speak it. “Pony attack!” He yelled in Twilight’s direction, clearly having deduced that she had authority over the ponies. “Pony attack!” He jabbed his hoof at the dead stallion before pounding his own chest. “Zebra defend!” “Horseapples!” The pink mare snarled back. “You lying stripe! Sage didn’t do shit to you!” Her tear-filled sapphire eyes locked onto Twilight now as well. “They started it, ma’am!” At least somepony finally recognized that Twilight was an officer, the unicorn thought to herself. “They tried pushing us out of our bar!” The mare’s eyes returned to the zebras now, glaring with rage. “That’s all stripes know how to fucking do: push ponies out of their homes!” “Remember Palomino!” A pony within the mob that Applejack was rounding up for questioning shouted out, rekindling the familiar warcry that had been used early on in the war. A few other ponies echoed it. Once more, Twilight could feel the air becoming charged with hate. “At ease!” Once more her authoritative shout was enough to bring about silence. “Captain Applejack, round up everypony here and take them to the stockade. We’ll figure out who did what from there—” “Kanali Sparkle!” Twilight’s head turned towards the source of the yell. The origin proved to be the small party of zebras she’d noticed approaching earlier. At the head of the group was a familiar young stallion that she’d met that morning. Khanisa strode up to the unicorn, his gaze only briefly flicking to the nearby zebra marines who were all stiffening to attention upon seeing him approach. “Kanali, I cannot allow you to take my zebras into custody. They are not Equestrians. You have no authority over them,” the officer, much more junior than Twilight, insisted. The unicorn frowned. “Whether they are Equestrian citizens or not, this island is, Luteni; I enforce the laws here against anycreature.” “The Zebrican Conclave does not recognize the authority of other governments over our citizens,” Khanisa reiterated. “Regardless of whose territory it is. “I cannot allow them to be imprisoned by you, Kanali. I am sorry.” For what it might be worth to Twilight, the young stallion’s final words at least sounded sincere. Regardless, it was clear that Applejack didn’t seem to care for what the marine officer was saying any more than Twilight did. “Now hol’ on there a minute! A pony died here; an’ Ah need to investigate that. Which means that Ah need access to all the witnesses an’ suspects,” she waved her hoof around to encompass all of the uniformed equines. “Zebras included!” “We will question our own,” Khanisa affirmed. “An’ Ah’m just supposed to take yer word for they tell you—?!” Applejack nearly spat back. “Captain…” Twilight didn’t quite growl in warning at her subordinate. The orange earth pony shot her superior a quick glare before snorting and turning her attention back to at least sorting out the detention of all of the ponies involved in the fighting. The purple unicorn took a breath before continuing her discussion with the marine officer. “Luteni, while I can appreciate the position that you feel you’re in as their commanding officer, I can not allow suspects in a murder investigation to walk around free.” “They will be held aboard the Dominance,” Khanisa assured her. “Having them aboard a ship that can leave at any minute is hardly an improvement!” Twilight shot back tersely. “Whether you ‘recognize Equestrian authority’ or not, I assume that zebras still treat killing somecreature as a serious offense, don’t you?” “Only so long as the killing was not justified.” The stallion nodded in the direction of the bloodied mare. “My marine says she was attacked by the pony.” “She’s a lying bitch—!” Twilight ignored the outburst which sounded to have come from the same pink mare from earlier. “My ponies say that your zebras were the aggressors. Until we have conducted a thorough investigation and questioned all of those involved, we can’t know who is lying.” “My marines do not lie!” Khanisa snarled, charging a step closer to Twilight fast enough that the unicorn briefly wondered if he might actually make contact with her. While the lieutenant didn’t actually touch Twilight, the unicorn got the feeling that he very much wanted to. “Live, fight, die; A’Skari do all things with honor!” “What ‘honor’ was there in burning Dodge Junction to the ground?” Twilight heard the orange security head’s low growl. The flick of Khanisa’s ear suggested that the zebra had too. He seemed to be willing to let the remark slide without comment though. His gaze never left Twilight’s. “If my marine says the pony attacked first, then it is so, and his death was his own folly.” “Why you little—!” “Captain Applejack!” Twilight called out, not diverting her own attention from the marine commander. “Get these ponies to the stockade. Now.” There was no immediate move to comply with her order. “...And the zebras, colonel?” “We will deal with our own.” It wasn’t Khanisa who spoke this time though. A new voice entered the discussion, if a familiar one. Twilight turned to see Zecora approaching them. She almost missed the aborted attempt by the marine lieutenant to kneel. “Ambassador Zecora, as I was explaining to the Luteni,” Twilight said with audible strain in her voice. She wasn’t looking forward to arguing with the Zebrican ambassador in public. “This is an active investigation; we can’t allow suspects in a murder to leave the island.” Zecora said nothing for several moments. Her gaze wandered the surrounding section of market, taking in the bloodied zebras and ponies, as well as the dead stallion lying on the street. When those turquoise finally returned to Twilight, they were unyielding. “The zebras will be held aboard the Dominance.” Before Twilight could reiterate her objection, the striped mare held up a hoof. “The Dominance shall not leave her anchorage until this matter is resolved. “You have my word on this. I will make this stipulation clear to Kapteni Trafalgar.” Twilight frowned. She looked back towards Applejack, who wasn’t looking particularly swayed by the assurance of the ambassador. However, she did at least nod her head in reluctant acceptance before she turned her full attention to getting the involved ponies into custody. Presumably somepony was contacting the clinic about collecting the body of the dead stallion. “Fine,” the purple unicorn relented. “But Captain Applejack and her investigators will be granted access to the suspects for questioning whenever they request it.” It was not a request; it was a condition. Zecora’s nod suggested that she would indeed treat it as one. Twilight then returned her gaze to Khanisa and nodded, stepping aside to let him collect his battered marines. “I appreciate your understanding on this matter, Colonel Sparkle,” Zecora said. “I don’t understand, ambassador; not really,” Twilight countered, an edge present in her voice. “But I am trusting you.” The striped mare inclined her head slightly. “Then I appreciate your trust,” she corrected gently. The pair stood together for a time as Applejack cleared out the uniformed ponies and Khanisa cleared out the uniformed zebras. It wasn’t long before the two equines were standing with the body in relative seclusion. A number of the fortress’ security ponies had established a perimeter around the scene to keep other creatures away. Somepony was on their way to get word to Doctor Fluttershy about the fatality. The pegasus would arrange for the collection and autopsy from there. “Ten years.” Zecora said nothing. “We only managed to go ten years without a zebra killing a pony. Soldiers, no less.” Twilight’s scoff couldn’t have been more derisive at the thought. “Equestrian and Zebrican soldiers, fighting in the streets—killing each other… “...We haven’t made any progress at all, have we?” Twilight turned now to look at the zebra standing beside her. She idly wondered if she was hoping to find answers to her question. If she was, none were apparent on the impassive striped face of the other equine. “Milia haibadi mara nyingi majira.” Zecora stated solemnly. At Twilight’s questioning look, she elaborated: “‘One’s stripes do not change as often as the seasons’.” The unicorn frowned. “I was under the impression a zebra’s stripes never changed at all.” The corner of the ambassador’s mouth twitched slightly as she nodded in acknowledgement. “The ones on our bodies do not,” she conceded. She reached up and touched her hoof to her head. “But, up here; those stripes can shift. It is just slow. “It takes words, and action, and time—a lot of time.” Zecora put her hoof back down and shrugged. “Perhaps you and I, Colonel Sparkle, will never see a world where ponies and zebras stand flank-to-flank in sisterhood.” The twitch at the corner of her mouth finally broke free into a smile, if only a wan one. “But, I hold out hope that our foals might know such a world. Or, if not them, their foals after them. “In my heart, I believe the world will someday know peace.” Her eyes returned to the body. The smile melted away. “Just not today.” “No,” Twilight agreed with a heavy sigh, “not today.” Author's Note Can't we all just get along! As always, a thumbs up and comment are always greatly appreciated If you like the cover art and want to see more stories get them, I've set up a Cover Art Fund if you're interested and have any bits lying around! Chapter 5: Matters of HonorTwilight Sparkle and Applejack stood in the clinic’s reception area, awaiting the official determination of the stallion’s cause of death from the fortress’ chief medical officer. Everypony involved recognized that this was largely a formality. How the green earth pony had died hadn’t really been in doubt. Even the zebras who had been there agreed that he had been killed in the fighting. That didn’t mean that an autopsy wasn’t still a necessary step. While the purple unicorn highly doubted that any other outcome would come to pass, there was always the chance— The doors leading deeper into the clinic opened. A yellow pegasus mare, covered nearly snout to hoof in scrubs that were now more red than white, stepped through them. Her wing reached out and swept the cap restraining her mane off of her head, allowing the long pink strands to once more fall over most of her face. A singular visible baby blue eye quickly found the two officers who had been waiting for the physician to complete her work. Her other wing held out a folder containing her written findings. “...The cause of death was blunt force trauma,” she said softly. “Multiple kicks were delivered to his neck and head.” The pegasus closed her eyes and took a breath. When she regarded the other two ponies again, it was with a knowing look. “...I recognize the pattern. You both would too.” The news wasn’t surprising, but Twilight found it no less unwelcome. Her horn glowed with a violet aura as she accepted the offered report. She glanced over it before nodding. “So she did kill him.” Neither of the other ponies reacted like there’d been any real doubt on the matter. “Now we just need to figure out if it was self-defense or not.” “That ain’t gonna be easy,” Captain Applejack pointed out with a note of resignation. “The ponies say the zebras started it, while the zebras’re sayin’ the ponies threw the first kick. “So far the ponies we got in custody are all stickin’ to the same story: they were in the bar, mindin’ their own business, when a buncha zebras stomped in and started pushin’ ‘em around.” “And what are the zebras saying happened?” Twilight inquired. “Wish I could tell ya, colonel,” the orange earth pony didn’t quite spit, irritation obvious in her frustrated expression. “Ah ain’t been able to talk to any of ‘em yet. That ‘Luteni’ feller told me to put in an official request with their embassy if I wanted to see ‘em—which I did. Now Ah’m apparently supposed to just sit on my tail and wait for a response. “An’ who knows when that’ll be!” Twilight frowned. Zecora had agreed to allow Applejack access to the zebras involved in the fight when the earth pony requested it. However, she supposed that there had been some degree of ambiguity when it came to the promptness with which that request was granted. “I’ll talk with Ambassador Zecora about getting your request expedited,” the unicorn promised. “Ah appreciate that, colonel; but there honestly probably ain’t gonna be much point by now.” Upon seeing Twilight’s raised eyebrow, the earth pony elaborated. “Unless those zebras were segregated on that cruiser—an’ Mah understandin’ is that there ain’t a whole lotta room on a ship to do that in the first place—then they’ve had hours to collectively agree on what happened and get their stories straight. “A big part of investigatin’ witnesses and fin’in’ the truth of what happened is seein’ where the stories don’t line up.” Applejack gave an annoyed snort. “Ah won’t be able to do that with the zebras now.” “Does that mean that you found some inconsistencies with the ponies’ stories?” The muzzle of the head of security scrunched up. “Kin’a? They all agree the ‘zebras started it’, but there’s a little variation on the ‘how’,” Applejack said. “Some say they heard the yelling first before the first kick happened. Some say they saw the zebras come in and start shovin’ everypony around the moment they were through the door. One said that she saw that zebra mare walk right up to the dead feller and buck’em without a word of warnin’. “Ah don’t expect eye-witness accounts to line up perfect, mind you; but if they generally agree with each other, that’s usually a sign that they’re all telling the truth.” “So you believe that the zebra did start the fight?” Twilight hedged. The unicorn wasn’t sure what it said about her that she’d privately been hoping for the opposite to be true. If the final findings of this incident really were reported back in Equestria as a group of Zebrican marines starting a fight and killing a pony mere hours after getting off of their boat… Well, Twilight didn’t harbor much hope for that doing anything to exactly improve the public’s opinion of zebras back home. “That’s what the evidence Ah have at hoof right now suggests, yes, colonel,” Applejack stated very carefully. “But there’s still a lot else to look at. Mah ponies ain’t asked around the area about other witnesses to the fight an’ what they might’a seen yet.” “...If it matters,” Doctor Fluttershy managed to interject, a wing gesturing to the report still floating in Twilight’s magic. “Sage Brush wasn’t completely taken by surprise. His hooves showed evidence of him doing some kicking of his own.” The purple unicorn opened up the report once more and flipped to the page detailing the condition of the deceased’s hooves. She read over the notations about the chipping of the keratin, the bruising of the frogs, and the signs of blood which were unlikely to have been the stallion’s own. He had indeed fought back. Given how Twilight recalled the zebra mare looking, he’d even given a decent accounting of himself in the fight before he was killed. Twilight’s eyes narrowed before she turned back to an earlier page in the report, rereading it more closely. After a few long moments, she looked back up at the yellow pegasus. “Doctor, in your opinion, which blow would you say killed Private Sage Brush? Ultimately?” The physician grimaced at that question, but appeared to give it considerable thought before finally answering. “...If I had to pick, then I’d go with the kick to his throat. It crushed his trachea. A few of his injuries could have killed him eventually, but that’s the one I’m inclined to lean towards right now, colonel: asphyxiation.” “No real surprise there,” Applejack noted. “We’re taught to kick for the throat if you can back in boot camp. Ah can’t imagine it’d be too much different for the stripes.” Twilight cast an aside glance at the orange earth pony’s use of a term for zebras that was ‘less-than-politique’, but elected not to comment on it at the moment. “It isn’t,” she confirmed. “Zebrican military training emphasizes quick, powerful, strikes to a target’s head and throat in order to take them down quickly and efficiently. Just like we see in this report,” she indicated the floating file folder. “I want you to talk with Private Sage Brush’s section sergeant and his CO,” she said to Applejack. “Okay…” the earth pony agreed with a wary note in her voice. “...why? None of them were anywhere near the fight; they wouldn’t’a seen anythin’.” Twilight waved the report in the air between them. “It takes one tough son-of-a-bison to shrug off a surprise buck to the head well enough to go on and make a Zebrican marine bleed. I want you to find out from his superiors if this stallion really was that tough. “And if it turns out that he really was some sort of Iron Pony contender, then I want you to find out why some recruiter put a pony like that in pony resources,” Twilight said after sparing a glance at the front page of the file, which contained the stallion’s identifying information, “and not in a frontline regiment where a pony like that belongs. “I really don’t want to find out we nearly lost the last war because it turns out we’d been sticking all of our best fighters behind desks this whole time.” Twilight shared a sardonic smile with her head of security. For her part, it was clear that Applejack recognized what the unicorn was getting at, and was now wearing a thoughtful expression. “Yeah…Ah’ll go have a talk with ‘em.” “Thank you. And thank you, doctor. Your report was very thorough,” Twilight noted. The pegasus accepted the praise with a wordless nod. “Well, I have a meeting with the donkeys to get to about those grain tariffs. They’re still not happy with the latest revision of the terms.” The purple unicorn gauged her present company and then allowed herself a role of her eyes in visible frustration. “Personally, I think that they just like being cranky all the time.” She sighed and shook her head. “I’ll see the both of you at the staff meeting this afternoon. Carry on.” After receiving acknowledging nods from both ponies, Twilight left the clinic to go and attend to her other duties. While the incident at the bar was a serious matter, it didn’t mean that everything else going on got put on pause. Twilight penciled in a reminder to herself to make some time to speak with Ambassador Zecora about letting Applejack speak with the zebra marines who’d been involved in the fighting. Even if their testimonies had had time to be compromised through group coordination, it might still be worth an interview. She certainly didn’t envy the idea of drafting a report which concluded that the zebras had started the fight without actually talking with the involved zebras. That certainly wasn’t going to help Equestrian-Zebrican relations… A thoroughly emotionally drained Twilight Sparkle was dragging herself down the corridors of The Citadel several excruciating hours later. The session with the donkey delegation had been…trying. If I hear the word ‘tariff’ one more time today…I’m blowing up the island. She wasn’t certain that the thought was an entirely hyperbolic one… Operating under the assumption that a good meal would help to undo so much of the stress that the day had brought with it, Twilight was on her way to the cafeteria when she heard somepony approaching from behind her. “Um…Colonel Sparkle?” The little purple mare’s first response was to tense up and bite back a frustrated growl. The last thing that she wanted right now was to deal with any more ‘official business’ in either her capacity as the diplomatic representative of Equestria, or as the commanding officer of the fortress. She just wanted to eat something in peace, like a normal pony. To have an hour to herself. Duty waited for no mare, however. So Twilight swallowed back all of her mounting frustrations, took a second to let out a slow breath, and turned to greet the pony who was likely going to be the latest contributor to a prematurely graying mane. She was a little surprised to see that it was Captain Rainbow Dash who’d approached her. “Yes, captain? What can I do for you?” The prismatic-maned flier shifted uncomfortably on her hooves. Twilight hadn’t known the cerulean pegasus for long, but it was clear that this was not a common state for the mare. The fact that she was uncomfortable and recognized that somepony else was seeing her like this only served to make the squadron leader ever more uncomfortable. Her ears and eyes both scan the corridor, lingering on anypony else who’s visible. “Can we talk? In private?” There’s a noticeable pause before the pegasus adds a belated ‘ma’am’ to her request. Twilight cast a lingering look in the direction of the cafeteria before letting out a resigned sigh and nodding. “Come to my office, captain.” The pair ascended back up to the administration level of The Citadel and entered Twilight’s office. It was still fairly sparsely decorated, having only been in use for a week. However, the unicorn had added a few personal effects in that time. She’d also sent out a request to her parents to have more of her things back in Equestria shipped over, now that the unicorn had seen just how much room she was going to have to work with on Harmony. Rainbow Dash noticed a couple of items which stood out to her almost immediately. The pegasus was barely two steps into the room before magenta eyes locked onto a medallion set upon a black velvet backing sitting on a shelf behind the purple mare’s desk. It was a medallion which everypony in the Equestrian military recognized. “You were at Canterhorn?” Judging from the wince which immediately followed the flier’s words, Twilight suspected that the question had been intended to remain a purely internal one, escaping only because of whatever matter it was which had brought the mare to seek out Twilight in the first place. So the purple unicorn didn’t begrudge Rainbow Dash the question as her own gaze also turned towards the familiar medal. “I was,” she confirmed, and offered no other elaboration beyond that. Nor did Rainbow Dash ask for details. Nopony ever did. The climactic battle of The Great War had happened only ten years ago, but it had already been cemented in legend. In Twilight’s opinion, it had reason to essentially hold a mythical status in the minds of ponies. After all, it was the battle which had ‘saved Equestria’. The moment where ponies finally stopped the zebras once and for all, inflicting such grave losses that the striped invaders had, ceased their hostilities, fled back across the seas, and begged the ponies to become their allies. That was the narrative which the public had crafted for themselves to reconcile the events which had followed the Battle of Canterhorn Mountain, at least. The official narrative wasn’t too different. Twilight didn’t care for either. Not that the unicorn had been privy to any other explanation as to how it was that the zebras had gone from being on the precipice of completely annihilating Equestria to withdrawing with all haste back to their homeland in a single night. Something about the Battle of Canterhorn Mountain had obviously reversed the willingness of the zebras to continue to prosecute the war to its ultimate conclusion; even with their ultimate victory clearly within their grasp. Twilight’s own recollection of the battle was…fuzzy. She’d been hurt in the fighting; apparently seriously enough that she’d been rendered unconscious for the remainder of it, only being found by Equestrian medics the following morning after the Zebrica forces had withdrawn. What little of the fight that she did remember with clarity though was hard to reconcile with the aftermath that had been related to her in the hospital. The zebras had managed to get so close to Canterlot under cover of darkness. They’d effectively caught the ponies by complete surprise. The same army that had flattened Fillydelphia had been poised to do the same to the last major pony settlement… …And then they hadn’t. Their armies had gone home instead and then their government sent envoys to sue for peace, offering Equestria ridiculously equitable terms in the process. The zebras had even paid reparations! To Twilight, none of it made any sense; and she hated things that didn’t make sense… The second item that Captain Rainbow Dash noticed was another medal of significance. This one was sitting on the corner of the unicorn’s desk. Unlike the medallion on the shelf, which had been commissioned specifically to recognize the participation of ponies in the Battle of Canterhorn Mountain, this other award was more generic; though arguably more prestigious. The medallion for Canterhorn had been given out to every soldier who’d been in and around Canterlot that morning. Tens of thousands of ponies from the war had one just like hers. Whereas medals like the one on her desk had only ever been awarded to a relative few. At the time that then-Captain Twilight Sparkle had been presented with it, only thirty seven other ponies had been awarded an Equestrian Order of Valor. Rainbow Dash’s wide-eyed stare indicated that she recognized that medal too. However, unlike the medallion on the bookshelf, she managed to restrain herself from asking about it. For which Twilight was grateful. She took the opportunity to direct the mare’s attention back to whatever it was which had prompted her to request this meeting in the first place. “Sit.” Twilight gestured to the chair in front of her desk while she took her own seat behind it. “So what’s the matter, captain?” Rainbow Dash didn’t sit. She stood in front of the desk and fidgeted. “That fight this morning? I…might have some information on who started it. “...It wasn’t the zebras.” All of the purple mare’s weariness evaporated in an instant. She sat bolt upright on her seat, gaping at the pegasus. “You do? It wasn’t?!” A wave of relief crashed over her. Sure, it wasn’t great that ponies had started the fight, but it was slightly better than the other way around. “I need you to tell me everything that you saw,” Twilight insisted. “Then we’ll get Applejack so that you can tell her and she can put it into the report.” Rainbow Dash winced. “Actually…I didn’t see anything.” Twilight frowned. “But you know somepony who did?” she hedged, earning a nod from the cerulean pegasus. The purple mare paused for a moment while she sorted all of her observations from the last few minutes. “I’m assuming that there’s a reason they don’t want to come forward directly?” The pegasus sighed and started pacing back and forth in front of Twilight’s desk. “The thing is, the ponies who saw what happened…well, they were doing something that they really shouldn’t have—nothing illegal!” She hastily clarified. “Just…very against regulations. “Potentially career-ending, in fact.” Twilight was grimacing now. “Are they trying to offer their testimony in exchange for us looking the other way?” “No, nothing like that,” Rainbow said, shaking her head. “That’s just the thing though: they could have not told me anything about what they saw or how they were in a position to see it—erm…” The pegasus cringed slightly before hurriedly continuing, though her cheeks looked slightly flushed now. “Who would have known, right? Instead, they came to me and outed themsel—” Another flushed wince. “Revealed what they had been up to, because they knew they had to tell somepony what they saw. “They heard the rumors going around that the zebras were the ones that had started shit and killed a pony. They knew that wasn’t true, so they came forward. To me.” Rainbow Dash took a deep breath and then looked at Twilight. “They’re good ponies, colonel. Great fliers. I need them on my team, and I don’t think it’s right for them to get punished for doing the right thing by coming forward when they didn’t have to. “So, if you want to talk to them, then you have to promise that there won’t be any official record of what they were doing when they witnessed the fight.” Captain Rainbow Dash held the unicorn’s gaze firmly. “That’s my requirement, not theirs.” A couple seconds elapsed before a belated “ma’am” was finally tacked onto the end. Twilight considered everything that the pegasus had just told her. She leaned forward on her desk and steepled her hooves in front of her muzzle, returning the pegasus’ stare. “...Are you making demands, captain?” “I’m protecting my ponies,” she insisted. “I’m already dealing with the regulation violation. Internally. There doesn’t need to be a record about that part.” “Because it would impact their careers,” Twilight reiterated evenly. Rainbow Dash nodded. It didn’t take the unicorn long to decide that the matter of some ponies violating some regulations was far outweighed by the possibility of averting a possible diplomatic incident. “Very well, captain. Tell your ponies who saw the fight to come see me. Right now. “I will have Captain Applejack here too to take their statements though.” Twilight saw the protest forming on the pegasus mare's lips and held up a hoof to fend it off. “I’ll talk to her about how to frame the specifics about where they were and what they were doing. “Realistically, it should only really come up if there’s a formal court martial,” the unicorn pointed out, “and there’s no guarantee that it’ll actually get that far. “As it stands, the ponies involved in the fight are insisting the zebras started it. If it turns out that’s not true, then it might be enough for Applejack to just mention the existence of other witnesses—without naming names—to get them to recant their statements. The final report probably won’t even need to mention your ponies at all.” She saw the leader of the fortress’ air squadrons visibly relax upon hearing her words. “Thank you. Ma’am.” Twilight spent a few moments internally wrestling with whether or not she wanted to press the pegasus for details about the nature of the regulations that her ponies had been violating. The idea that ponies on Harmony were breaking the rules—and doing so to a degree that apparently could seriously harm their careers—and weren’t going to face any serious punishment for it didn’t sit entirely well with the unicorn. After all, the regulations—and the consequences for violating them—existed for a reason. On the other hoof, Twilight was also aware that, sometimes, extenuating circumstances needed to be taken into account. She also wasn’t about to make it her business to micromanage her subordinates. Otherwise it kind of defeated the purpose of even having subordinates. She’d trust Captain Rainbow Dash to keep her command in order. For now. “Go and get your ponies,” Twilight told the pegasus. “I’ll send somepony to track down Applejack. We’ll have everypony meet here in—” Twilight froze as her stomach produced an audible rumble. The mare flushed and cleared her throat. “—half an hour.” Which, hopefully, would give her sufficient time to finally grab some lunch… Twilight—reluctantly—shoved her to-go tray of an only half-eaten oatburger off to the side of her desk. She snagged one last hayfry to munch on before the tray was out of easy hoof-reach, casting the meal one final forlorn look before sighing and turning her focus to the four ponies who had just entered her office. Despite the fortress commander’s best efforts to gallop to the cafeteria and back, she’d been waylaid by Rarity and an issue which wouldn’t have been able to wait to be addressed. By the time everything had been sorted, Twilight hadn’t had time to sit down to a meal anymore and had been forced to take her food to-go if she wanted to get back to her office in time for the meeting with Rainbow’s witnesses. She’d eaten as much of her meal as she could on the way back up to her office, and had hoped to have at least a few more minutes inside alone to finish, but she’d returned to find all four ponies waiting for her at her door. Twilight vowed to buck whatever genius had come up with the ‘fifteen minutes prior’ rule right in their flank if she ever met them. Resigning herself to a cold remainder of her lunch by the time interviewing the witnesses was over with, Twilight surveyed the two new ponies standing in front of her desk. The first was a brilliant golden mare with a fiery orange mane and topaz eyes. The collar of her green flight barding was pinned with a lieutenant's bar. The mare was staring straight ahead—looking past Twilight—and standing at rapt attention. Her right hoof was still crossed over her chest in salute. Standing beside her was another pony also standing mid-salute. He was a powder blue stallion with a dark mane and emerald eyes that were similarly locked onto some nebulous point beyond the fortress’ commander. His flight suit had no metal rank pin on its collar. Instead, there was a silver arch embroidered on his sleeve. Captains Applejack and Rainbow Dash were standing off to the side, the latter looking considerably more apprehensive about this meeting than the former. Twilight spent a few more moments looking between the two alleged witnesses to the fight before finally returning their salute. “At ease.” Both ponies shifted slightly, but neither looked particularly ‘at ease’ with what was happening. “Lieutenant Spitfire. Airpony Soarin.” Her amethyst gaze darted to each pony in turn. “I’m told that the two of you saw how the fight in town started.” Twilight sat back in her seat and steepled her hooves. “Tell me what happened.” Lieutenant Spitfire spoke first. “Yes, ma’am! Soa—Airpony Soarin and I happened to be in the area at the time. We saw the whole thing. That stallion—the one who died? He threw the first kick.” Beside her, the light blue pegasus stallion nodded in agreement. When it became evident that nothing further was going to be offered by way of a statement from either pony, Twilight looked over at the earth pony in charge of the investigation. Applejack shook her head and frowned. “Ah’m gonna need more than that. Ah don’t suppose either o’you two saw why Sage Brush kicked that zebra mare? “Ah’m assumin’ that the stallion didn’t jus’ happen to come down with a case of ‘stupid’ and pick a fight with a buncha zebra marines because he was bored…” Twilight agreed that they’d need to understand the events leading up to the first kick to be thrown in order to truly be able to determine who ‘started’ the fight. She looked back to the pair, her eyes shifting between the mare and stallion in search of further elaboration on what they saw. She noticed Soarin’s eyes dart in the direction of his superior. “The lieutenant was the only one in a position to see what happened before the first kick,” he admitted, and then flushed before clearing his throat. “I only saw what happened after.” Spitfire winced slightly, also looking a little more uncomfortable now. “I…wasn’t watching what was going on outside before the kick. I was…distracted.” She shifted nervously on her hooves. “But I heard a lot of yelling. I heard the pony soldiers telling the zebras to watch where they were going, and that they weren’t welcome at that bar.” “How do you know it was the ponies who said that?” Applejack asked. “It could have been the zebras.” Spitfire shook her head. “I heard the zebras talking too; they speak Equestrian with a completely different accent. It was definitely the ponies telling the zebras to leave.” Applejack nodded, apparently satisfied with the lieutenant’s explanation for how she’d identified the speakers. “So there was yellin’ an’ then the stallion—Sage Brush—bucked at the zebra mare an’ so she bucked back and killed him?” “Not at first,” Soarin said. “That stripe got bucked in the face by his first kick, but she backed up and dodged the next two. She didn’t start swinging back until she and her buddies got boxed in by other ponies.” “It looked like the ponies wanted that fight,” Lieutenant Spitfire added. “They were all laughing and cheering. Until that green stallion dropped and didn’t get back up.” “Suddenly everypony was trying to break up the fight after that,” Soarin chimed back in. He glanced at Twilight and Applejack. “You two showed up about a minute later.” “An’ where were you two that y’all saw all of this?” Applejack asked. “Y’all weren’t there on the street. Leastways, Ah don’t recall seein’ either o’ya.” There was a pronounced pause from the two ponies now as they exchanged looks. “We were across the street,” Spitfire finally responded with a sigh, “...on the second floor. We saw it from the window.” Applejack raised an eyebrow. Rainbow Dash winced. Twilight frowned. She wasn’t familiar enough with Harmony to know where and what every building in the civilian quarter was, and she certainly hadn’t been concerned with the nature of the buildings surrounding the fight that morning. Not that it really mattered much, as far as she was concerned; as long as it was good enough for Applejack. Twilight was looking in the direction of the commander of her military police force once more. “So, captain? What do you think?” The orange earth pony stopped smirking in the direction of the pair of pegasi and looked at her commander. “Ah think Ah got a better idea o’what happened. Enough to confront the other ponies involved in the fight, at least. Ah'll see what their story is after mentioning some of the details these two here talked about. “Right now though, my workin’ theory is that it sounds like some drunk ponies didn’t like a buncha stripes comin’ down to drink at ‘their’ bar an’ got rowdy about it. Rowdier than they should have, certainly.” Twilight nodded. That was along the lines of her own thinking at the moment too. “If that zebra marine really did get hit first, and if she dodged multiple other kicks before finally hitting back…I’m inclined not to press charges against her regardless. At best it was self-defense; at worst an accident in a fight she didn’t want or start. “Either way, I don’t see a reason to make any kind of incident out of this with the zebras.” She received a provisional nod of agreement from Applejack. “I’ll have a message sent to Ambassador Zecora letting her know I’ll be dropping the matter. “Though I will still want to see your official findings on the matter, captain.” “Yes, ma’am,” Applejack said with a nod. Twilight looked back at the two pegasi standing in front of her desk. “Thank you both for coming forward with this. If we need anything further from you, I’ll let Captain Rainbow Dash know. “Dismissed.” Both fliers snapped back to attention and saluted before making a—very relieved—exit. Once the door closed behind them, Twilight heard Applejack sniggering, while the cerulean pegasus merely massaged her temple with a hoof. The purple unicorn frowned. “So, do either of you want to tell me what was across the street from the bar?” “The No-Tell Motel,” Rainbow Dash answered with a groan. Applejack provided some clarification when Twilight raised a brow. “Its actual name is: The Open Hooves Inn, but everypony calls it that,” she nodded in the pegasus captain’s direction, “on account of it havin’ somethin’ of a ‘reputation’.” Twilight sighed and rubbed the bridge of her muzzle with a hoof. “Fraternization. Great.” “I dealt with it,” Rainbow Dash insisted. “They're in different squadrons now; there’s no more chain-of-command issue.” “That only solves part of the issue!” Twilight said, sounding more than a little annoyed. “She’s an officer, he’s an enlisted pony; if they’re involved in a physical relationship—” “I promised them that coming forward wouldn’t hurt their careers!” Rainbow Dash interrupted. “They trusted me, and I won’t betray that trust. “We’re working on a solution.” Twilight managed to bite back a retort, but only barely. The unicorn acknowledged that she had, indeed, assured Rainbow that there wouldn’t be any official record of what the witnesses were doing at the time they saw the fight. To take any action now would mean going back on that assurance. She didn’t want to set a precedent among her officers that she couldn’t be trusted to keep her word. “Fine.” The word wasn’t uttered without a noticeable amount of strain. “They’re your ponies; I’ll let you handle them. But do handle them, captain.” She said with a stern look. Rainbow Dash nodded. The purple mare took a cleansing breath and let it out slowly. “Alright. So…Applejack can get back to her investigation and you’ll deal with the fraternization. I guess that concludes everything we needed to deal with right now. “You two are dismissed. Applejack, let me know when you’re ready to file your official report. I’ll try and talk with Ambassador Zecora after I’m done with my lunch.” Twilight cast a forlorn look at the certainly now quite cold remains of her meal. Both captains nodded and turned to leave. They were halfway to the door when it burst open and a frantic-looking Major Rarity rushed in. “Colonel! It’s the Dominance; they’re leaving!” Twilight was out of her seat, her lunch forgotten in the face of the sudden revelation. “What?!” The unicorn’s mind reeled with the news. Ambassador Zecora had assured her that the ship would remain at the fortress throughout the duration of the investigation. So either the Zebrican representative had lied, or Kapteni Trafalgar was making a run for it to protect his marines. The unicorn wasn’t sure she cared much for either explanation. She was on her hooves and cantering for the door a moment later. The rest of her officers were following close on her cannons. There wasn’t any point in heading for the docks, nothing that Harmony Fortress had access to in the way of ships would be able to catch the zebra cruiser. To say nothing of being able to do anything to stop it even if they did. Twilight had a fleeting thought of ordering Rainbow Dash to scramble one of her pegasi squadrons to intercept it, but… She didn’t foresee many scenarios where ponies trying to stop the zebras from leaving ended with anything but more casualties and only further exacerbated the situation. Besides, if what Spitfire and Soarin had told them about the fight bore out, then there wasn’t any reason to retain the zebra marines anyway. Their leaving wouldn’t create any real issue where criminal proceedings were concerned, other than not having the—apparent—victim of the Equestrian soldiers’ assault present to testify if they court-martialed the ponies for starting the fight that led to a death. None of that helped to alleviate the sense of betrayal that Twilight was feeling though. Zecora had promised! All four ponies poured out onto one of The Citadels lookouts. Rainbow Dash wasted no time in taking to the air, but the pegasus didn’t go far. Presumably, she’d reached some of the same conclusions that Twilight had regarding the myriad of—fatal—ways trying to intercept the cruiser could end. She still didn’t look happy about the ship leaving though, and glared at it fiercely. Twilight too wasn’t wearing a very happy expression on her face as she watched the zebra vessel moving through the water and start to turn… …Towards the fortress. The purple unicorn blinked in mild surprise as she tried to puzzle out what Trafalgar was doing. Because if he was leaving Harmony Fortress waters, then he was doing so in the least expeditious way possible. Twilight—very briefly—entertained the notion that the ship was preparing to engage in an attack of some sort, to the point that she almost ordered Applejack to go and round up a few of the batteries to ready some guns just in case. Then the cruiser initiated another turn, shifting course until it was steaming parallel with the fortress’ perimeter. “What in tarnation are they doin’?” Twilight wished she had an answer for the earth pony. However, she was just as confused by the cruiser’s actions. She supposed that they might be trying to go around the island to head in that direction…? But there certainly wouldn’t have been any reason to get as close as they had, if that was the case. All they were doing was increasing their risk of hitting some particularly shallow shoals. “I…I think I know,” Rainbow Dash said. She wasn’t glaring anymore. In fact, her eyes looked quite haunted. She raised a hoof towards the no-longer-quite-so-distant cruiser. “Forward mast; starboard yardarm.” Twilight followed the pegasus’ directions and focused her gaze on the ship. Her breath hitched in her throat. “Lan’ sakes…” Came Applejack’s breathless epithet as she caught sight of it too. Rarity merely placed a hoof over her mouth to stifle the gasp. “No…” Twilight heard the breathless word, but didn’t immediately recognize it as having come from herself. All four ponies stood in silence on the lookout, watching as the Dominance continued on its journey around the island fortress. They weren’t leaving, Twilight recognized. They were broadcasting a message. The zebras were giving Harmony’s inhabitants an opportunity to see that they had addressed the issue of an Equestrian dying at the hooves of a Zebrican: From the yardarm of the cruiser closest to the island, hung the body of a zebra mare wearing a crimson coat. Author's Note “Politics in pursuit of justice is no virtue.” As always, a thumbs up and comment are greatly appreciated If you like the cover art and want to see more stories get them, I've set up a Cover Art Fund if you're interested and have any bits lying around! Chapter 6: There All the Honor LiesTwilight wrinkled her nose as the zebra soldiers which nominally guarded the levels of The Citadel’s abutting tower which the Zebrican government reserved for its use—and were thus legally ‘Zebrican soil’—didn’t try to stop the obviously furious purple unicorn as she stormed past them on her way to ‘talk’ with Ambassador Zecora. Her position as Harmony Fortress’ commander did not give Twilight free reign to wander through the embassies of sovereign nations. The soldiers standing guard over those levels would have been well aware of that fact. They should have confronted and stopped her, and only let her proceed if she had legitimate business with a member of the embassy’s staff. But they didn’t stop her. They merely nodded in acknowledgement of Twilight’s approach and stepped aside to let her pass. Which meant that those soldiers had been told that she would be coming here at around this time. And since even Twilight hadn’t known that she’d be stomping through the corridors of the Zebrican Embassy until she’d seen the zebra marine’s body hanging from the cruiser’s mast five minutes ago… Zecora had known what was going to happen to that mare. She had known how Twilight was going to react and given notice to the guards to allow her to pass. Which suggested that the ambassador also knew exactly how she was going to try and justify all of this to Twilight… The unicorn’s teeth were grinding by the time she finally reached Zecora’s door. The large stoic form of the ambassador’s assistant, Grevy, was standing placidly outside. Just as the soldiers at the embassy’s entrance had done, the stallion nodded wordlessly at the purple unicorn, not seeming the least bit perturbed by her obvious ire. He rapped his hoof three times on the door before opening it and stepping aside to allow Twilight to enter. The Zebrican ambassador was sitting in the same parlor in which she had entertained Twilight during their dinner following the unicorn’s arrival on the island. She also wasn’t alone. Seated across from her was Kapteni Trafalgar, calmly sipping at a cup of tea that he was holding in his hooves. He glanced up long enough to note the arrival of the unicorn before returning his attention back to his beverage. Twilight felt her right eye twitch when she noticed that a fresh cup of coffee was sitting on the part of the table which was nearest the parlor’s entrance. The presence of the cruiser’s captain further stoked Twilight’s ire. His apparent ambivalence in the face of what he’d done to one of his marines was enough to finally push the purple unicorn over the edge. “You bastard,” she outright snarled at the older stallion. “How could you?” Twilight’s rage-filled eyes darted to Zecora next. “Whose idea was it? “Actually, you know what? It doesn’t matter: You’re both monsters. Murderers,” the unicorn spat. Trafalgar’s lips twitched in irritation at Twilight’s labels, but he quickly tamped down on any retort that he might have wanted to offer after taking a moment to remind himself that Ambassador Zecora was present. He instead elected to occupy his lips with another sip of tea in an effort to further disabuse himself of the temptation to offer up a retort to the purple mare. Zecora, for her part, at least had the decency to put on a sympathetic expression and leave her own beverage untouched while in the furious unicorn’s presence. “It is easy to see how you would feel that way, Colonel Sparkle—” “Oh, spare me your vapid diplomatic schlock!” Twilight snapped back at the striped mare, electing to push aside the trappings of their respective roles and positions for the moment. Right now, the unicorn wasn’t particularly concerned with whether or not she offended the zebra official, and would welcome receiving word of any official complaints being filed with her superiors in Canterlot. Twilight would frame that letter of reprimand and display it with pride on her desk any time Zecora came to her office. “How else am I supposed to feel?!” the unicorn seethed. “What else would you call what you did, if not ‘murder’?” Twilight rounded on Trafalgar now, even though the stallion had yet to say anything. While the unicorn internally recognized that the ship captain was clearly subordinate to Zecora due to how the Zebrican government apparently worked, the excuse of ‘just following orders’ was not one that the mare would consider entertaining for even a heartbeat. “Did you even bother to talk to her first before you decided she was guilty? Or did you order her strung up the second she set her hoof on the ship?” Trafalgar put down his tea and met Twilight’s piercing gaze without flinching. “It was not a matter of ‘guilt’ or ‘innocence’; it was a matter of duty. Of honor.” The stallion’s words stunned the unicorn. “What do you mean it didn’t matter whether she was guilty or not?! Of course it matters! She didn’t have to die! What ‘honor’ could there possibly have been in killing her before you even knew if that mare had done anything wrong?” “There is no greater honor for a soldier, than to give their life in the preservation of peace.” Trafalgar’s own eyes had hardened now as he stared down the unicorn that was verbally accosting him. “At least, that is what we believe. Perhaps you ponies do not feel the same. If that is so, then it is no wonder your kind fared so poorly during the war.” He turned away from Twilight now, returning his attention to his drink once more. Twilight’s jaw worked in silence for several moments as the mare’s mind reeled in its attempt to reconcile the stallion’s words. She was trying to make sense of them, straining to make the connection between hanging the zebra marine and ‘preserving peace’. Zecora provided the elaboration that the unicorn needed. “This morning, a Zebrican soldier killed a pony,” the ambassador began in a tone that was probably not meant to sound condescending. However, with Twilight’s current high-running emotions, it was hard for her to not interpret it that way. “The peace between our races is still a fragile one—as you well know. The wounds of our war still run deep. “For word to get out that one of out soldiers could kill a pony and suffer no reproductions—” “She was innocent!” Twilight blurted. “There were witnesses who saw your marine getting attacked first—who saw her holding back until she was backed into a corner!” A sad smile touched the ambassador’s muzzle. Across from her, Trafalgar bowed his head in resignation. It was a brief thing though. A second later the stallion’s expression hardened once more. “So she said.” Twilight’s eyes once more snapped to the naval commander, narrowing with renewed ire. “So you actually did talk to her before hanging her. How gracious of you…” The unicorn’s words dripped with scorn that she made no effort to hide. “It is a cowardly officer who is not willing to look their soldiers in the eyes when he orders them to lay down their lives for the greater good,” Trafalgar quipped before looking away from Twilight and taking another sip of his tea. Twilight fumed, and was about to issue a retort when Zecora stepped in again to distract her away from the stallion. “The marine’s innocence was immaterial.” This statement earned a shocked look from the unicorn, but the ambassador had anticipated that much and immediately slipped into an explanation of her claim. “The rumors were already spreading throughout the island. Many creatures—ponies especially—had already reached their own conclusions about what had happened: that the marines had attacked the ponies without just cause. “Doubtlessly, letters would be going out on the next ships bound for Equestria making those same assertions. Your newspapers would publish articles about those assertions. The presumed series of events among ponies on Harmony would quickly become ‘fact’ among ponies in Equestria. Perhaps even the griffons and a few other races would embrace the narrative.” “But when the investigation is done and the final report is published—!” Twilight tried to protest. Zecora didn’t let the other mare finish. “—Few will bother to read it. And even fewer will care what it has to say. “When the herd makes up its mind about which direction to run, there is little that can be done to steer it.” The unicorn’s mouth closed on the remainder of her protest. A tightness was forming in her throat as she began to understand Zecora’s reasoning and motives. Mostly because she was feeling herself actually starting to acknowledge them. That she couldn’t immediately dismiss the ambassador’s rationale as being utterly ridiculous and without merit was making the unicorn profoundly uncomfortable. Her own mind ran through several possible ways that the general public back home might react once they received word about what happened this morning. It was indeed very likely that the version of events which reached Canterlot first would be the one currently working its way through the island right now. Between the time that the fight had broken out and the time that Rainbow Dash had brought forth her two witnesses, a couple of ships bound for Equestria had already left port. It could be many hours yet before Applejack would be able to wring confessions out of the Equestrian soldiers about how they’d provoked the marine. Another day or two, at least, before the official report could be properly drafted and finalized in accordance with the established proper protocols. It would be a legal document after all; such things could not appear rushed and needed all of the appropriate stamps and signatures if they were going to hold up under scrutiny. They were lucky that matters were likely going to be so straightforward in this instance. It meant that there was every likelihood that they would be able to send the report out with the next scheduled official courier departure… …In about a week’s time. More than enough time for dozens of cargo galleons, with their crews of hundreds of ponies apiece, to leave for every major Equestrian port and beat the official findings to the mainland by many days. Which might not seem like much of a head start, but then one had to factor in how long it would take that report to make its way through the proper channels in Canterlot before its findings would actually be cleared for release to the public. Even if things progressed as swiftly as the bureaucracy would allow for, it would take the better part of a month for Captain Applejack’s report to be released to the press. There wasn’t any way to predict whether the report would be widely publicized in the news sheets, or how deeply the report’s findings would be buried behind other, more recent and tantalizing, events. “This way,” Zecora went on, “we are no longer trying to compete with the currently spreading narrative. Instead, we are able to shape it. The residents of Harmony have now seen that the zebra who took the life of a pony was punished harshly for her crime, and that it was carried out swiftly by other zebras. “They will see that the Zebrican Conclave punished a killer. That we did not come to the island seeking violence.” “Except that there wasn’t a crime,” Twilight insisted, though not with nearly the fervor that she had earlier. “That mare was innocent.” “Your ponies would not have cared,” Trafalgar snorted. “You don’t know that.” “I know that I have heard many stories about how it was my marines who started the fight,” Trafalgar said cooly, “and none about how your ponies attacked first, as you just told us is the truth of the matter. “Why is it the lie which is being perpetuated, do you think…Stripe-Bane?” “Kapteni…” Zecora said with a hint of warning in her voice, narrowing her eyes at the older stallion. The cruiser’s captain immediately shut his mouth and bowed his head. He murmured something in their language which Twilight took for an apology and then went silent. The ambassador took a deep breath and returned her attention to the unicorn. “None of us are happy about what happened, Colonel Sparkle. Nor was this a decision that was come to lightly. In the end, Koplo Umoya understood what was being asked of her.” There was a brief pause from the Zebrican representative. She glanced in Trafalgar’s direction. “I am told that she faced her end with great dignity.” The stallion seated across from her gave a curt nod, but said nothing. Twilight swallowed back the bile in her throat as she imagined what those last moments must have been like for that marine: to know that she was going to be punished like that, even though she’d only been defending herself. The unicorn started shaking her head, refusing to accept that any of what Zecora was telling her was okay. “This wasn’t right…” “It was necessary,” Zecora insisted gently, “to keep the rift between pony and zebra from widening.” There was a pause. Then the ambassador cleared her throat and locked her gaze on Twilight. “But…it is not all that will be necessary.” The unicorn mare was frowning now. She could feel the dread mounting within her as she waited to hear what else was going to be required, on top of an innocent mare’s death. “The report on the findings of the investigation that you mentioned; the one which will reveal that it was your soldiers which attacked our marine without provocation…” Twilight felt her stomach tighten as Zecora spoke. She already had an idea of where this was going, and knew that she didn’t much care for it. “It would be…inconvenient if the report said such things. “If it did not reinforce that we zebras took the ‘appropriate actions’ under the circumstances—the initially reported circumstances, that is.” “You want me to lie.” Twilight stated far more bluntly. The unicorn found that she was quickly tiring of how politicians framed things. “To help cover up what actually happened.” “We are asking you to not undermine Kolpo Umoya’s sacrifice,” Trafalgar said soberly, not looking in the purple mare’s direction. “Please, colonel; let her death have what meaning it can,” asked Zecora. Twilight’s first impulse was to refuse on principle. It was bad enough that the narrative of the events that happened that morning were false…but to be asked not to refute it? To, in fact, perpetuate the lie that was being spread? To reinforce the rumors by lending them the legitimacy of an official report that agreed with it? And…for what? So that the zebras could avoid having a poor impression of them spread through Equestria? As though the perception of zebras by the average pony could really be lowered all that much further… She wanted to refuse. But, at the same time… Thanks to what Zecora and Trafalgar had done behind her back, publishing the truth in the investigation’s findings would probably only undermine things for her now. Creatures would ask—and rightly so—why, if it had been the dead stallion who’d started the fight, the zebra marine had been hanged for killing him. Misleading rumors were bad enough. Twilight didn’t even want to think about the headaches the fortress could end up facing if it was mired down by talk of conspiracy. “I’ll think about it.” The unicorn suppressed a wince as she heard herself lying now. She didn’t need to think about it; she’d already made up her mind about what she was going to do. What she had to ‘think about’ was how she was going to explain it to Captain Applejack. “Colonel, before Ah say anythin’ else, Ah need you to know that Ah say this with all due respect: “Have you spit your fuckin’ bit?!” All things considered, the freckle-faced mare was taking this better than Twilight had expected. Mostly because Applejack hadn’t bucked her desk in half. “You want me to falsify the report on a murder investigation?” Twilight stared down at the draft of the report—the currently true and accurate one—which the head of the fortress’ security forces had delivered to her this morning. Just as Applejack had predicted, the Equestrian soldiers involved in the fighting admitted to having started the fight with the zebras once they were informed witnesses had stepped forward with evidence refuting their earlier claims that they’d been the victims. They acknowledged that Private Sage Brush threw the first few kicks, and that the marine he’d been attacking had tried to back away before being boxed in by the crowd. The report sitting on her desk completely exonerated the young marine… …And it didn’t matter anymore. The purple unicorn took a breath and let it out slowly. “I need you to write up a report that chronicles the events which happened yesterday,” she carefully clarified to the earth pony. “That a fight broke out, a pony was killed, and the zebras hanged one of their marines for it. “All of which are factual statements,” Twilight offered, wondering if those words sounded just as hollow to Applejack as they had to her own ears. “I’m not telling you to lie; I’m just telling you not to be as detailed with your conclusions in the final report as you might usually be.” “A lie of omission then,” Applejack spat with no small amount of contempt. Twilight could only nod. “So that the zebras get t’pat themselves on the withers for executin’ an innocent mare.” “I’m not going to defend what they did. But, at this point, publishing findings that conflict with their actions is just going to cause more problems.” This prompted a skeptical brow being raised by the earth pony. Twilight laid her hoof gently on the report in front of her and regarded the senior security officer. “Based on your findings in this report, I assume that actual charges are being recommended for the other ponies involved—and not just simple reprimands? Since they actively participated in escalating a fight that led to a death—to say nothing about lying to you and me about what happened?” “That’s right.” Applejack hedged, correctly sensing that Twilight was going to somehow find an issue with that course of action. The unicorn nodded. “And when their advocate points out to the judge that the zebras already convicted and hanged somezebra for the crime that they’re being charged with?” The earth pony was already scowling as she finally saw where Twilight was going with her reasoning. “That’s more than enough ‘reasonable doubt’ to preclude any possible conviction. To say nothing about the questions that even taking this to trial is going to raise! “Best case—from our perspective—is that we make the zebras look incompetent or irrational for bungling the investigation so badly that they came to the exact wrong conclusion and killed a mare for no reason.” Twilight’s words dripped with resignation. “Worst case: We look like the irrational ones for ‘coercing’ ponies into confessing to a crime that somezebra else was already convicted of committing!” Twilight shook her head, letting out a resigned sigh. “Publishing this…it’s just going to hurt us, one way or the other. I’m sorry, captain.” For her part, Applejack was looking like she’d just bitten into something sour. She wasn’t quite ready to give up her position though. “Beggin’ yer pardon, colonel; but mah job ain’t to cover shit up fer politicians.” “You’re right,” Twilight conceded, “that’s my job.” In light of recent events, the unicorn wasn’t entirely sure how sarcastic that statement actually was. “Your job is to lead your ponies and submit reports for me to review before accepting them.” She took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “...And I’m not accepting this one.” Even as she spoke, the unicorn took the offered draft on her desk and filed it away in one of the drawers. The action earned her a raised brow from the orange mare. “I’ll obviously want to retain this draft for the sake of thorough record-keeping,” Twilight said, offering the other pony a small smile which didn’t endure for very long on her muzzle, “but I’m going to need you to write up a new one which contains the minor corrections that I’ve suggested before I can forward it to Canterlot.” The scowl threatened to invade Applejack’s lips again, but the mare managed to whittle the expression down to a deep frown. “If Ah make those changes, then those ponies’ CO won’t even be able to reprimand them fer what happened. “You know that, right?” That was an aspect of all of this which Twilight suspected she and Applejack were also equally unhappy about: they couldn’t reasonably punish the other ponies involved in the fighting; since the ‘official narrative’ was going to be that the zebras started everything. Sage Brush and the ponies with them were now ‘victims’. You couldn’t reprimand victims. Not officially, anyway. “I’m going to have Major Rarity reach out to their CO and get them to—very insistently—urge the other ponies who were with Sage Brush to put in for transfers back to the mainland.” Twilight’s horn lit up and pulled several sheets of paper out of another drawer of her desk and pushed them towards the earth pony. “If they don’t feel like transferring, these are some of the frequently violated regulations which are supposed to earn reprimands and write-ups. They tend to get overlooked because, well, some of them are pretty silly, to be honest.” Twilight admitted with a bitter look of her own. It caused the mare some minor discomfort to admit that much. After all, rules were meant to be followed and enforced because they existed for a reason. Nopony just arbitrarily made up a list of things ponies weren’t allowed to do simply because it amused them, after all. Which wasn’t to say that some of the rules imposed in the Equestrian Army didn’t come off as being…less-than-thoroughly-thought-out, Twilight conceded. Why couldn’t a soldier use an umbrella while it was raining? Captain Applejack took the offered list of obscure regulations that Twilight had compiled and started to look them over. She snorted and shook her head. “Shoot, Ah might have to write myself up on one’r two o’ these! ‘EAR one hundred dash twelve, chapter seven, paragraph three: Eatin’r drinkin’ of any kind must be performed while seated only’. “Ah can’t enjoy a cup’o cider while standin’ up?!” “Not according to regulations,” Twilight confirmed with a shrug. The earth pony clicked her tongue and continued to look through the list. “I know it’s not what you wanted,” the unicorn continued with a much sadder smile now. “It’s not ‘justice’; not really.” Twilight sighed. “Honestly, getting them off the island feels a little bit like I’m just trying to sweep the last few reminders of all of this under the rug…” “Ah’d be lyin’ if Ah said Ah felt different,” Applejack quipped, tucking the papers into her vest. The purple mare nodded. “I would have preferred this to go differently too, captain. Unfortunately, the zebras tore the stitching out of our feed bag, and now we’re left with…this,” the mare gestured vaguely around the office. “And ‘this’ isn’t much. “I understand why Zecora and Trafalgar did what they did—I understand! I didn’t say that I agreed with it!” Twilight affirmed quickly upon seeing the other mare take a deep breath which doubtlessly was about to lead into a vehement berating. Applejack bit down on her retort, but still didn’t look happy. “I understand,” Twilight tried again, “but it sure made things damned inconvenient. To say the least.” “Understatement of the millennium, that.” “Right. If there’s nothing else, captain, you’re dismissed to go and write that report. If it’s possible, I’d like it by the end of the day so that I can review it.” Applejack couldn’t hold back her biting retort this time. “Should Ah send Ambassador Zecora a copy for her to review too? Since we’re lettin’ the stripes dictate how we conduct business on our island—” “Captain.” The word hadn’t been spoken with any particular harshness. Twilight understood the security mare’s frustration, and even shared it. So she was willing to give Applejack a little leeway when it came to expressing herself in a way which might otherwise have trotted right up to the line of ‘insubordination’. Just a little though. The military police commander’s mouth closed down tight against the rest of her cutting remarks. She cleared her throat and snapped to attention, her emerald eyes locked onto a point of the wall which lay just over Twilight’s shoulder. The unicorn closed her eyes and took a few seconds to ensure that she was also as calm as possible before speaking. She sympathized with the earth pony, and even acknowledged that Applejack had every right to be upset. But, at the end of the day, they were both officers and they needed to conduct themselves accordingly. Even when there weren’t any prying enlisted eyes. “Just a copy for myself will be fine, captain. Dismissed.” Applejack nodded and rendered a crisp salute with her hoof snapping across the breast of her gray vest. Twilight returned the salute. The earth pony turned and started heading for the door. “Applejack?” The orange mare paused, but didn’t look back. “For what it’s worth; I do value your integrity. I’m sorry the truth has to take a backseat this time.” “...And Ah’m sorry y’think it ever has to,” the earth pony said before leaving the office. The silence which persisted in Twilight’s office once she was alone again was deafening. The purple unicorn closed her eyes for several long moments. When she opened her eyes again, they invariably fell upon the medal propped up on the corner of her desk. It was usually the first thing that she noticed whenever she was sitting there—by design. She intended it to serve as a reminder, and it certainly fulfilled that purpose. The problem was that, some days, Twilight had trouble remembering exactly what it was that she was supposed to be reminded of. This had been one of those days, unfortunately. “So am I,” she whispered to nopony in particular. Twilight leaned on the railing of one of The Citadel’s lookouts staring out over the fortress. Despite her best efforts, her eyes kept wandering over to the zebra cruiser. The unicorn supposed that she could have gone to one of the other lookout posts that faced another direction. She could have…but she hadn’t. The Dominance was anchored back at its original position. It had executed five laps of the island yesterday before returning to its mooring and taking the corpse down from its mast. Cutters had resumed ferrying crew and supplies back and forth between the cruiser and the docks at a steady rate. Twilight and Rarity had made a few revisions to the suggested list of areas that the zebras should avoid. They simultaneously informed the Equestrian soldiers on the island that they were likewise restricted to those same areas when off duty for the remainder of the cruiser’s time in proximity to Harmony. The hope was that keeping the two groups of soldiers away from each other would preclude further violence. The mare let out a bitter laugh at the thought of racial segregation being necessary to keep the peace…on an island named ‘Harmony’, where the stated goal had been to foster an atmosphere of unity between the races. “Dear Chancellor Fancy Pants,” Twilight muttered under her breath as her hoof pantomimed a quills’ strokes across an imaginary scroll, “my mission has been a complete and utter failure…” The mare let out a defeated sigh and bowed her head into her hooves. “Curious…you didn’t strike me as the type to give up so soon.” Twilight jerked and whirled around upon hearing the sound of somepony speaking nearby. She was certain that she’d been alone on the lookout platform. Years of conditioning saw the unicorn dropping into a combat stance and setting her horn aglow with a readied spell before she was even aware that she’d done anything, ready to fend off the attack— —Only for Twilight to find herself looking at a brilliantly white alicorn that stood more than twice her height. “Ambassador Celestia!” The smaller mare immediately doused her spell and straightened up, flushing slightly at how readily she’d dropped into old habits. “W-what are you doing here? Is there something I can help you with?” The towering alicorn shook her head and stepped over to the railing beside the unicorn. “No, colonel; I don’t need any help. I’m just here to enjoy the view.” “Oh. Of course, ambassador.” Twilight’s gaze darted away from the taller mare to glance further up the island’s central spire, her amethyst eyes finally landing on the mooring tower at its peak…and the airship that was moored there. Ambassador Celestia’s airship. Where only the alicorn was permitted to go. A place which the unicorn believed would have offered an objectively better view of the island and its surroundings than any of The Citadel’s other lookout platforms. Twilight very diplomatically didn't roll her eyes at the alicorn's obvious lie. The unicorn was in no mood to play whatever political games the diplomat was here for. She turned to leave, but drew up short when Celestia spoke again. “Would you stay a while, colonel? Unless you have somewhere to be?” Several seconds passed as Twilight considered the possible answers that she could give. All of them would have been lies though. In her opinion, she'd done more than enough lying for one day already. “No, ambassador; I can stay for a little bit,” Twilight finally admitted, turning back to the railing, and the view beyond. “Personally,” Celestia began, “I think it’s unfair to rate something—or someone,” she added with a small smile directed at the unicorn, “as a ‘failure’ just because they didn’t immediately achieve success. Especially when the goal that’s been set is such a lofty one. “Surely you didn’t expect to achieve world peace in your first week?” “No, ambassador,” Twilight acknowledged with a mirthless snort, “I didn’t think I’d get everycreature working together in a week. I’m not a ‘failure’ for that. “It’s the backsliding that bothers me.” Upon seeing the raised brow from the alicorn, Twilight elaborated. “The war between ponies and zebras has been over for ten years—our races are at peace! And yet…our soldiers are still killing each other,” the unicorn lamented. “If all it takes is a little cider for our soldiers to start fighting and killing each other again…then how long is that peace really going to last?” Twilight shuddered as she calculated out a few likely estimates. She didn't much care for them; even the ones where she'd allowed for the most favorable of variables. “The griffons and the dragons were at peace for longer than ponies and zebras; but now…” The unicorn’s mind turned back towards the first Council session that she’d attended, and the revelation that the dragons had effectively annexed a Republic island. Of course, Ambassador Ember hadn’t used that sort of definitive language. Thus far, the dragon representative was sticking to the narrative that they were just holding the island ‘in trust’ while its former griffon inhabitants were away. Meanwhile, more dragons were being moved onto the island, and not all of them were soldiers. Civilians were relocating to Ragnar now as well. "Experts and artisans," Ember had announced when pressed on the matter; there to ensure the gem mines remained in perfect operating condition. Plus their families, as there was no telling how long those experts would be needed on the island. A few shopkeepers and merchants too, so that those families could buy what they needed to be comfortable. Tradesdragons were thus also necessary, to make wares for those shopkeepers to sell. And the families for those shopkeepers and tradesdragons, naturally. In spite of Ambassador Ember’s assurances otherwise, Twilight didn’t believe that the dragons would actually leave the island once the griffons finished their ‘military action’ against the kirin and returned to Ragnar. They’d dare the Republic to try and take it from them again. And if the Republic tried… “Hmm.” Celestia gave an acknowledging nod, turning her own eyes towards the anchored cruiser. The alicorn was silent for a while. Then, “What is ‘peace’ to you, colonel?” The little purple pony hadn’t been prepared for the question, and so she initially fumbled for an answer. “I-I, um…it’s when two races aren’t fighting, ambassador?” Twilight winced slightly as she heard the questioning tone of her answer. Judging from the expression on Celestia's face, she suspected that she hadn't given the answer the taller mare had been looking for, but she wasn’t sure how far off the mark she’d ended up. “Is it?” There was nothing mocking about the alicorn’s tone. In fact, the larger mare did a masterful job of sounding genuinely intrigued by the unicorn’s response. “So it’s exactly like an armistice then? Or a truce?” Twilight felt herself flush. “No, of course not; it’s very different. Those two things are temporary agreements. Peace is more permanent.” “Ah. So the griffons and dragons were never at peace then?” The alicorn paused and considered for a moment. “If, a thousand years from now, ponies and zebras end up going to war once more, then will that mean that your two races were never at peace after all either? “Your races each refer to the Treaty of Los Palomino as being a ‘peace agreement’. If war does break out again someday, will historians start referring to the interwar period as a truce?” Twilight was frowning at the alicorn now. “You’re getting hung up on the semantics of the words, I think.” “My apologies then. Would you care to explain what makes 'peace' meaningfully different from a 'truce'?” Once more, nothing in Celestia’s tone suggested that the alicorn was trying to be patronizing. Her request came across as being genuinely earnest. “Well, with a peace agreement, the two parties try to bring themselves closer together so that a war doesn’t break out between them again.” “Oh, I see! That makes sense.” The alicorn paused and considered for a moment. “So ponies and zebras aren’t at peace, then?” Twilight balked, blinking in confusion at the ivory mare. “W-what? Of course we are!” Celestia looked confused now too, cocking her head. “Oh? What have your two races done to try and bring yourselves closer together?” Twilight’s mouth started to move…but no words were immediately forthcoming. The little unicorn had anticipated having a clear example of how ponies and zebras were fostering their relationship since the end of the war. However, the more that she trawled her brain looking for answers, the more disheartened she felt herself becoming as she failed to come up with any. “We’ve…” She desperately ventured, hoping that perhaps something would come to her in the moment…but it didn’t. Instead, the mare was left desperately hanging onto the end of that single word until she was finally forced to concede failure. Her whole body seemed to deflate as she let out a resigned sigh. “...mostly just stayed away from each other,” the unicorn was finally forced to concede. “That doesn’t sound like a very effective way to bring your races together.” “No. Obviously it isn’t,” Twilight admitted with a grimace, her gaze once more wandering back out to the zebra cruiser. “On the other hoof, we also just saw what happens when ponies and zebras don’t stay away from each other,” she pointed out, adding a rueful snort. “Maybe you were right about that treaty being an armistice after all…” “For what it’s worth, I certainly hope not,” the alicorn offered, managing to muster up an encouraging smile for the smaller mare beside her. There was a long pause, then, “What happens when you put cats and dogs together?” The unicorn frowned, looking up at the taller ambassador. Her response was understandably hesitant, given the conversational non sequitur. “...They fight? I mean, that’s the stereotype anyway: that cats and dogs inherently don’t get along.” “But that’s not always the case.” “Well, no, of course not. Plenty of dogs and cats get along with each other. Especially if they grew up together or were introduced to each other in the right way,” Twilight explained, still not quite understanding why the alicorn had an interest in the social interactions of common pets. Celestia nodded. “So bitter rivals can be made to get along, provided they are properly supervised while initially interacting,” the ivory mare concluded. The unicorn sighed, finally seeing where the ambassador was going with the conversation now. “So you’re saying that things might have gone better if I’d assigned trusted ponies to supervise the zebra marines and sailors? I’m not sure Trafalgar would have liked the idea of us keeping an eye on his zebras,” Twilight said, frowning slightly at her recollection of the older stallion’s demeanor at the docks when they’d first met. “He didn’t even like it when I suggested he keep his zebras away from genuinely dangerous construction zones…” “If I’ve learned anything from my many years as an ambassador, it’s that you can get somecreature to agree to a lot they normally wouldn’t, provided you frame it in just the right way.” Celestia smiled knowingly at the smaller mare. “Offering for some of your ponies to provide ‘concierge services’ might have been well-received. Perhaps reaching out to some of the bars directly to organize dedicated receptions to welcome the zebra crews, offering them food and drinks from their homeland? “I’m sure that the Zebrican Embassy’s staff would have been happy to help organize such events if you’d asked them to.” Twilight winced. What the alicorn was suggesting would have been very good ideas, the fortress’ commander realized. She’d thought that she’d been going ‘above and beyond’ by putting together the guide to help orient them to the island—because the unicorn knew that she’d have welcomed such information when enjoying her own leave. However, those times had all involved her and other ponies taking leave in predominantly pony areas. She’d never really spent time off duty in a truly ‘foreign’ location. Thinking on it now, the mare decided that she would have liked to be provided with a local ‘guide’ if she were ever on leave outside of Equestria or its territories. But she hadn’t thought to do so with the zebras while they were here. Because they were zebras and her staff were ponies, and ponies and zebras didn’t do things together; they stayed out of each other's way. That was just how things were. Sort of like how cats and dogs fought. It was just how things were… …But, as Ambassador Celestia had pointed out, that didn’t always have to be the case. Cats and dogs could get along, provided they were properly guided. It wasn’t a stretch to think that the same couldn’t also work for ponies and zebras. The big question was: “Where do I even begin though?” “While I don’t have a military background myself,” said Celestia with another of her coy little smiles, “it is my understanding that there is something which holds true for military and political circles alike: ‘leading by example’. “Show ponies and zebras that the two of you can get along as friends by being friends with them yourself.” Twilight was frowning again. “...I don’t think I’m going to be on ‘friendly’ terms with any zebras any time soon. Not after what Zecora and Trafalgar did.” Her frown sank further into a grimace. “Or how I reacted to it.” Ambassador Celestia nodded sympathetically. “It can be difficult to get along with others when they make choices we don’t agree with.” “It’s not just about me ‘not agreeing’ with what those two did!” The purple unicorn shot back, glaring at the other mare now. “They took a life! Am I really supposed to be okay with that?” “I don’t recall suggesting that you had to be,” the alicorn countered in a calm tone. “You can be upset by the actions of others. “What I am suggesting, however, is that others making decisions that we see as being ‘wrong’ does not have to preclude us from seeking understanding,” Celestia went on. “Through that, it can be possible to still achieve amicable relations. Maybe even a firm friendship. “Eventually, you could even influence them into making better decisions down the road.” “They killed a mare,” Twilight said through gritted teeth. “If they need me to show them a better way to do things that doesn’t involve stringing creatures up by their necks—!” “You killed a town.” Celestia’s tone remained completely neutral as she spoke. The purple mare blanched, noticeably growing several shades paler in response to the ambassador’s words. Her mind reeled. Twilight remembered the sight of the zebra brigade marching up the road. She recalled seeing the column of striped soldiers encircling the town, preparing to lay their siege. She could still see the blue-uniformed ponies in the town, taking up defensive positions to repel the assault. They knew what they had volunteered for. Twilight hadn’t looked away when she’d cast the spell—she’d owed them that much, at least. It was over an hour before she could see clearly again. Longer still for her to run out of tears to shed. “I did my duty.” The hollow-sounding reply was out of her mouth before she was even aware that she’d uttered them. It had been a nearly instinctive reaction, as those were the words she always silently told herself any time her thoughts wandered back to that fateful day in White Tail. Celestia nodded. Her deep purple eyes bore into Twilight’s own. There wasn’t any judgment in the alicorn’s gaze; only pity…and a deep sadness. “I know that your government agrees with that.” Twilight’s mind immediately flashed to the memory of being awarded the medal that now sat on her desk not far from where the two mares were presently standing. “Indeed, many ponies do, I suspect. “But not all of them. There are ponies who don’t agree with what you did.” Twilight felt herself swallowing hard at the alicorn’s words. The alicorn took a deep breath and let it out slowly. She wasn’t looking at Twilight anymore. Instead, the towering mare was staring out across the sea beyond Harmony Fortress, out at the Moonfall Archipelago which lay over the horizon. “No creature is perfect. Thus it follows that, occasionally, we make imperfect decisions. Others will judge us for those decisions. “And rightly so,” the alicorn conceded, bowing her head. When she raised it, she was regarding Twilight once more. “But…if those decisions—even those made in error—were not born of a place of maliciousness…then surely we are worthy of compassion from our peers? Surely we can be offered forgiveness, and counsel for the future, so that we can improve—so that we can avoid repeating such mistakes in the future. “Otherwise—if creatures should be forever shunned for making a single poor decision—what is the point of any of this?” One of the alicorn’s wings flicked out, taking in all of Harmony. “Let us all be forever damned to Tartarus for our errors; without recourse, and without hope.” Twilight idly rubbed one leg with the other as she chewed on her lip, mulling over the alicorn’s words. She didn’t think of Ambassador Zecora or Kapteni Trafalgar as being ‘bad zebras’. They had simply made an extreme choice which had had profound consequences—for one mare in particular. They could have all worked together to find a better solution. Of course, that would have required Ambassador Zecora to first recognize that Twilight was somepony she could reach out to for help with things like that, and the unicorn wasn’t sure if the two of them were quite at the point in their professional relationship where that was a thing. After all, it wasn’t like Twilight had thought to reach out to the ambassador for help integrating the zebras during their shore leave… “I understand what you’re saying, Ambassador Celestia,” the little purple mare said, “and I guess I agree, for the most part. I don’t agree with what they did; but I do think that they were trying to ‘help’. “I’m just…I don’t know how I’m supposed to bridge the divide here,” Twilight admitted. “I believe I already pointed out that you could try to become friends with the zebra ambassador, despite your differences of opinion.” “But that’s just it: I don’t have a lot of experience making ‘friends’—even among ponies,” Twilight said with a sigh. “There…wasn’t a lot of time for that during the war; and what few friends I had before then—” Moondancer’s body dropped to the ground like a puppet shoes strings had been cut— “...I don't have most of them now. “I sort of threw myself into my work after that,” the smaller mare soberly admitted. “I assume that making friends as a grown pony isn’t quite like it is when you’re a filly and all it takes is swapping snacks during lunch period at school?” Celestia managed a small chuckle. “You’d be surprised, I think. But I take your meaning; it can be hard to reach out, especially if you’ve been hurt in the past. “To that end, I’m willing to help you. If you would like?” “After the week I’ve had, I’ll gladly take any help that I can get, ambassador—with anything!” Twilight offered a mirthless chuckle. Between the mounting tensions with the griffons and dragons, and this latest incident with the zebras, Twilight was feeling no small amount of stress. Being offered some counsel from a more experienced creature felt it had already relieved some of that emotional burden. “Very well then; I’ll send you a message in the near future when I’m ready to begin our first lesson.” Celestia informed the unicorn, smiling at the smaller mare warmly. “In the meantime, I have a prior engagement to get to. “We’ll speak again, Colonel Sparkle,” the alicorn issued a slight bow of her head towards the purple pony and made her way back inside The Citadel. Twilight mirrored the respectful bow. “I look forward to it, ambassador.” Then the unicorn was alone on the lookout. Her gaze invariably returned to the zebra cruiser anchored off the shore. She thought over what Ambassador Celestia had said: about how Twilight might have been able to do more to mitigate the chance of something going wrong while the ship’s crew was visiting. In hindsight, that was obviously true. Of course, the unicorn hadn’t been able to see it at the time. In her mind, their two races were at peace; the war was long over. That meant that there shouldn’t have been any issues. That wasn’t how creatures worked though, it turned out—be they pony or zebra. The zebras were still ‘stripes’ to a lot of ponies. She was still ‘Stripe-Bane’ to a lot of zebras. The treaty between their races hadn’t done anything to mend the scars left by their war—not really. And why should it have? How did a few words and signatures on a piece of paper do anything at all to make up for all that had been lost during the war? Had anycreature even apologized for any of it? Not to Twilight’s knowledge. Equestria certainly hadn’t offered any kind of apology or reparations—and why should they have? The zebras had been the aggressors during the war! Of course, the zebras hadn’t said much since ceasing hostilities either. They’d offered a bare-bones peace settlement that asked for basically no concessions from Equestria at all and the ponies had jumped on it without a second thought. Those invading armies had left just about as quickly as they’d arrived, and that had been the end of it. At least, where the war itself had been concerned. Obviously things weren’t ‘over’ in the eyes of the common pony soldier. Absolutely nothing had been done to mend that rift. By anycreature. …What have your two races done to try and bring yourselves closer together? Ambassador Celestia’s words rang loudly in the unicorn’s ears. “Not nearly enough,” Twilight sighed under her breath. “But it’s long past time we started doing something…” Author's Note Peace can't be enforced by a piece of paper. As always, a thumbs up and comment are greatly appreciated If you like the cover art and want to see more stories get them, I've set up a Cover Art Fund if you're interested and have any bits lying around! Chapter 7: A Day in the Strife“Spike! Have we heard back from the kittens yet?” The smaller purple dragon’s face screwed up into a look of momentary confusion. Then comprehension dawned on him and he started to shuffle through the stack of parchment that he was holding in his claws. “You mean the kirin, ambassador? Um…yes! Here we go…” He fished a recently received missive from the pile and very briefly looked it over to refresh his mind regarding its contents before offering it up to the Dragon Lands representative. “They’re asking for more powder for their artillery. Apparently the griffons managed to burn down a coastal town where a lot of their powder mills were located.” Spike summarized as Ambassador Ember took the offered letter from him. The cobalt dragoness barely even glanced at the contents of the scroll before tossing it away with a disgusted snort. “Why the fuck did they have their powder mills someplace that was so vulnerable to attack?!” She all but snarled. “Did they think the griffons wouldn’t try to blow them up?!” Spike hastily grabbed the returned letter before shuffling through a few more sheets to look for a relevant intelligence report. “Um…I believe the town in question was also one of the kirins’ main naval ports. They wanted the powder mills close to the docks so that they didn’t have to transport it super long distances,” the smaller dragon explained, oblivious to the fact that his superior wasn’t even paying attention to him anymore. “Kirin manufacturing techniques aren’t as sophisticated as some others, and so their powder is prone to separating during transport. “Factor in that they’re…well, kirin, and they keep their powder mills close to where they’re needed to minimize the likelihood of ‘accidents’ that might cause explos—” “Whatever! Fuck, geez, I didn’t ask for a whole damn lecture,” Ember growled, waving Spike away with a dismissive gesture. “Arrange for them to get some powder. I think there’s still some pretty big stockpiles on Ragnar Island, right?” “Yes,” Spike confirmed, shuffling to a different sheet of parchment. “The griffon miners needed it for blasting—” “Well we don’t need it for blasting,” Ember cut in once again, flexing her talons to emphasize her point. “Send it all to the kirin.” The smaller purple dragon took up a quill and started making some notes. “Yes, ambassador.” There was a brief pause. He glanced over the top of the parchment towards the dragoness, worrying at his lip. “Um…what about payment? Kirin coins aren’t worth as much as they were a year ago, what with the griffons and their ‘special operation’—” “War, Spike,” Ember cut her assistant off with a snarl. “Fuck what the griffons are calling it; it’s a war.” She took another breath and once more waved her clawed hand at the dragon. “And give them whatever discount they can afford.” Spike blinked in mild surprise. “Really? That’s awfully generous of you, ambas—” “It’s not like it cost us anything,” Ember said with a chuckle. “It’s all griffon powder! Any amount the kirin can pay is basically free money!” She pointed out. “Oh. Right…” “And besides: the satisfaction of knowing that the griffon fleets are going to get torn up with artillery propelled by their own damn powder is priceless!” Ember wore a toothy grin now. She tapped a claw against her chin, thinking. “I wonder if I should send Gilda a ‘thank you’ note…” “Something tells me she wouldn’t read it even if you did,” Spike quipped. “Eh, you’re probably right.” Ember shrugged dismissively before walking over to the corner of the room and collapsing down onto a small pile of gold and silver coins that served as her bedding in the luxurious ambassadorial apartment. While the representative of the Dragon Lands on Harmony had a proper embassy and staff, she rarely availed herself of them unless it was for an official function. She preferred receiving her briefings from her assistant in her personal quarters, where she could lounge around more comfortably. “So, what else is on the docket?” Spike shuffled the pages in his claws again. “Um…you have a meeting with the diamond dogs. They want to discuss those gem import negotiations that—” “Cancel it.” “Wait, what?” “Cancel the meeting,” Ember reiterated with a mildly annoyed scowl directed at her assistant. “Now that we have Ragnar Island and its mine again, we don’t need those gems from the dogs.” The dragoness picked up a ruby from among the modest pile of precious metal and stones that she was laying on and tossed it into her mouth, crunching down on it loudly. “Tell them to go try the griffons. They’ll probably be experiencing a supply shortage soon,” she sniggered through a mouthful of crushed crimson gemstone. Spike frowned but made the note as he’d been directed to. He was pretty sure that Ambassador Rover wasn’t going to like this news very much. The diamond dogs had been quite excited at the prospect of opening up new trade opportunities. “I’ll let them know.” He flipped to another sheet. “Marshall Garble is hoping to get a meeting with you. He says that he has concerns about our defenses if the griffons get more aggressive but Dragon Lord Torch isn’t taking him seriously. He’s hoping you’ll speak to your father about—” “If Dad’s not worried, then neither am I,” Ember said, once more flicking her talons in Spike’s direction, waving away the concern. “The griffon’s aren’t as tough as the younger generation thinks they are,” the dragoness insisted. “Just look at how easily we took back Ragnar Island!” Spike was frowning now. “Yeah, but it was, like, barely even defended—” “Maybe the griffons used to be these big, bad, scary-powerful cat-birds once upon a time,” the dragoness’ words might have suggested that she was offering a concession, but the derisiveness of her tone hinted at nothing of the sort. She held only contempt for the griffons. “But that was then; this is now. And ‘now’ the griffons are on the decline. “They’re losing holdings all over the globe,” Ember continued. “Their empire’s crumbling around them bit by bit. Now’s not the time to be cowering in our caves,” she spat. “This is our chance to reclaim everything that was ours before those fucking things showed up on our islands!” A toothy grin spread across the dragoness’ muzzle as a new thought occurred to her. “...Maybe we can even add some new territory while we’re at it. “Tell Garble to fuck off back to the Dragon Lands and get his forces ready for more offenses to reclaim the rest of the Scaly Island Chain.” “...Yes, Ambassador Ember,” Spike said, making a reluctant note on the parchment. The smaller purple dragon performed one final review of all of the documents that he was clutching in his claws before finally sighing. “That’s the last of the new business for this morning, ambassador. “Is there anything else you’d like me to take care of while I’m out?” “Hmm…Actually, yes: get some maps with our latest intel on where the griffons have their fleets based. Let’s see where we might be able to snipe some of their holdings without them being able to respond fast enough to do anything about it.” Ember’s snout spread into a wide grin, showing off her glistening fangs. “It’s time us dragons showed the griffons their proper place: groveling at our claws…” “—Groveling at our paws!” Gilda snarled as she paced back and forth behind her desk in her ambassadorial office. “That’s where the dragons should still be! Along with those fucking kirin! “Speaking of which…” The golden-haired griffon whirled around and reared up, bringing her talons down hard on the heavy oak desk. “Why haven’t we crushed them yet?!” She roared at the other griffon in the room. “They can’t fly and they barely have a fleet worth mentioning; those tree-horned horses should have been crushed under our talons weeks ago! “What’s the hold-up?” The smaller gray-toned griffon hen sitting on the other side of the desk winced, shying away slightly from the irate Republic representative. “W-well you see, ambassador, the kirin are getting a lot of support from some of the other nations—” “Who?!” Gilda demanded. “Oh! Um, well, let me see…” Gabby fished out the appropriate sheet of paper from the folder she was holding and started to read off the rather extensive list. “The donkeys, the minotaurs, the horses, hippogriffs—” The other griffon’s eyes flared wide as she heard her assistant list off just about every other minor race in the general vicinity of the kirin’s homeland. “Why are they all getting involved?! Don’t they realize what they’re risking? Getting involved in a war on the side of our enemy?” Gabby cringed, briefly weighing the merits of her next words before deciding that she wouldn’t get into too much trouble by speaking them aloud. “...Technically we’re not at ‘war’ with the kirin,” she felt compelled to point out. “We told everycreature that this was about ‘curbing raiding activity from kirin splinter factions—’” “Yeah? And?!” The smaller gray hen hesitated for a brief moment longer. “Well…they’re all sending that aid to the internationally recognized government of the kirin nation.” Gabby gave a helpless shrug. “We can’t exactly claim that their whole government is a ‘splinter faction’...” “Says who?” Gilda snapped back. The griffon ambassador held up a hand and started ticking off her talons as she recited a plan of action, “Find some kirin whose allegiance we can buy that has any kind of worthwhile political pull in Kirea. Then ‘find’ some documents that show they’re relatives of Ramstein—” “Rain Shine,” Gabby corrected automatically before wincing in anticipation of the rebuke she already knew was coming. “Do I look like I care?” Gilda said with exasperation. “Find me a kirin that we can claim is the relative of whoever, and we’ll set them up as the more legitimate ruler! We’ll label them the ‘government in exile’, or something. “We’ve done it before! We did it with the dragons,” the griffon ambassador pointed out. “We installed what’s-his-name; Grudge.” “Sludge,” came another reflexive correction from the smaller griffon. “Yeah, that one. We managed to justify the invasion using him back then. It worked great!” Gilda hesitated for a moment, before gruffly adding, “Until they, you know, revolted and got their stick or whatever back to Torch…” “The Bloodstone Scepter.” The head of the griffon mission pitched the top of her beak, letting out a beleaguered sigh. “Gabby…I genuinely don’t care what the dragons call their special stick.” She let out a beleaguered sigh. “Look just…get out there and start putting feelers out for a patsy we can prop up to take the Kirean throne, okay? Then figure out what we’d need to do in order to make them look legit so we can push to depose Train Sign.” Gabby raised a claw and opened her beak to once more offer up corrections for the more senior griffon, but then thought better of it. It was clear that Gilda was not in a particularly great mood as things stood and further antagonizing the griffon was only going to land the smaller gray assistant with ever more daunting tasks. That was what typically happened when the ambassador was getting upset: she would give Gabby things to do which were largely impossible so that, when the other griffon inevitably failed, Gilda could yell and scream at her and insist that the reason why nothing was going right was all due to Gabby’s bumbling incompetence. At this point, it was best to just get through the next few hours of fruitless tedium so that they could get to the point where Gilda screamed herself hoarse and told Gabby to come back tomorrow. With any luck, a freshly-rested Gilda would be more open to entertaining genuinely practical solutions to the problems facing the Republic. “Yes, Ambassador Gilda.” “And don’t come back until you’ve found somekirin!” Gabby spared a moment to weigh the costs and benefits of taking the ambassador at her word. On the one talon, there was a certain appeal in never having to deal with the obstinate griffon representative again. Gabby was mostly certain that she wasn’t going to find a kirin on Harmony Fortress that would be suitable for Gilda’s proposal. Most of the kirin on the island were associated with the Kirean government in some way, and so probably wouldn’t be amenable to participating in a coup… On the other talon, it was a fairly small island, and Gabby wasn’t going to be able to stay away from Ambassador Gilda forever. In which case, the sooner she returned and reported her ‘failure’ in finding a patsy, the less time Gilda was going to have to marry herself to the idea of trying to go that route in lieu of any other possible plans. Ultimately, it was probably best for the both of them if Gabby just went out for an hour or two and then came back to report her failure, weather the inevitable screaming fit, and then spend the evening coming up with more practical proposals to offer the ambassador in the morning. “Yes, Ambassador Gilda.” Gabby bowed and left the office with the intent of at least going to Ponyville. The least she could do was talk to a kirin or two for the sake of following her orders before throwing in the towel… Generally speaking, dragons weren’t a very common sight around the equine quarter of the island. Most of them were significantly larger than ponies and the other quadrupeds, and so it was often inconvenient to try and squeeze into the shops and recreational establishments that largely catered to such creatures. Most dragons tended to keep to Cowtown, on the island’s north side, where most buildings were built on a significantly larger scale in order to accommodate larger creatures, like minotaurs. Unlike Ponyville, where most of the residents were indeed specifically ponies, Cowtown was not actually home to a minotaur majority—though it did host a razor-thin plurality of the bovines. However, minotaurs had been the ones to initially move into this area of the island and developed it to suit their needs, with other creatures comparable to their size—like most dragons, diamond dogs, and horses—choosing to congregate in the area later as a matter of convenience. Ironically, because his stature was considerably smaller than that of a typical dragon his age, Spike tended to feel more out of place in Cowtown specifically because it was built up on a larger scale. He was more comfortable in Ponyville, where he could more easily look other beings in the eye without having to risk straining his neck muscles as a result of having to look up the whole time to maintain eye-contact. The small purple dragon particularly liked patronizing kirin-run establishments, as their partially scaled nature and preference for furnishings which were fire-retardant helped to make him feel more ‘at home’, even when he was away from his ‘home away from home’ on the island. The little bar that he was presently sitting in while dealing with one of the tasks assigned to him by Ambassador Ember was one of his favorites: The Tufted Tail. It was a relatively low-key bar which was heavily patronized by kirin. Because it catered to a large kirin audience, and those particular equines were known to have a—literal—fiery temper, especially after downing a flagon or two too many, just about everything in the bar was made out of non-flammable material: The floor was tiled, the walls were brick, the roof was slate, the benches were granite, and the tables were steel. It was one of the few places to eat and drink where Spike didn’t have to worry about incurring a surcharge to cover damages after expelling a particularly hardy burp. It also made for a convenient place to conduct business with kirin. “—want to thank you for your time, Miss Blaze,” the little purple dragon finished up, gathering the recently signed lengths of parchment into his claws and ensuring that they were properly organized. “We’ll get the first deliveries of powder to you as soon as we can,” he assured the auburn-maned mare sitting across from him. “Hopefully by the end of the month.” “No, thank you, Master Spike—and Ambassador Ember!” The scaled equine insisted, a relieved expression washing over her features as she clutched the promissory note to her chest like it was her own precious foal. “You can’t understand what this means for us—” the mare stopped, blinked, and then flashed the dragon a sheepish smile. “Or…maybe you dragons understand exactly what this means?” Spike nodded, a wan smile of his own tugging at his snout. He was personally too young to have experienced what life had been like while under griffon occupation, but he’d certainly heard plenty of anecdotal accounts from other dragons growing up. He’d also done enough reading in his role as the aide to Ambassador Ember to have a pretty firm understanding of the long and sordid history of diplomatic relations that dragons had enjoyed with the other races of the world prior to the Dragons Lands invasion and occupation by the griffons. Which was to say: essentially none at all. At least, nothing positive. For many centuries, dragons had been regarded by the other races as being barely sentient. This view hadn’t been entirely held out of prejudice either. The fact was that a lot of dragons had barely bothered to talk with members of other races. Instead, most of the contact between dragons had amounted to the dragon in question attacking the other creature and taking anything and everything of value in their possession. Ships had tended to give the islands of the Scaley Archipelago a wide berth too, as there had always been a better-than-even chance of some great wyrm flying down and pillaging the vessel’s cargo. This behavior had ultimately ended up lending the Griffonian Republic’s initial confrontations with the Dragon Lands an air of legitimacy, as it had first been framed as the griffons confronting a threat posed by ‘mindless beasts’ that were terrorizing travelers. It hadn’t taken long after that for it to become clear that dragons were more than just another variety of monster, like a hydra or a cragodile. Unfortunately, it also soon became clear that it didn’t really matter all that much. Dragons had earned a rather unflattering reputation over their centuries of raiding. So, when the griffons came to their islands in force, with cannons and guns that weren’t rebuffed by dragonhide in the way that spears and arrows had once been, the dragons had found themselves with few races that expressed any sympathies for their plight. There certainly hadn’t been anycreature who’d been willing to help them. In Spike’s opinion, a lot of his fellow dragons—Ambassador Ember included—had taken exactly the wrong lesson from all of that. In his mind, the lack of sympathy and aid in the dragons’ time of greatest need should have been a wake-up call that the way they’d been conducting themselves with the other races of the world was ultimately self-destructive. No matter how proud and mighty dragons might think of themselves, they couldn’t just keep trying to go their own way alone. They needed friends—allies—who would help them when larger threats appeared. That wasn’t how most dragons saw things though—and that included the ambassador and her father, the Dragon Lord. For them, their internationally unopposed enslavement at the claws of the griffons had demonstrated that the rest of the world didn’t care what happened to dragons, and that they couldn’t count on anycreature to help them. In their minds, they’d just been living their lives the way that dragons were supposed to—accumulating their hordes from any who were too weak to oppose them—when the griffons came around and enslaved them for no good reason! And, while it may have taken some time, eventually the dragons were able to rise up and liberate themselves; without any help or support from the other races. Spike’s views on what had led to his race’s subordination to the griffons—and how to avoid similar disasters in the future—were, to put things mildly: ‘unpopular’. So the little purple dragon mostly kept them to himself. At least, when he was around other dragons—especially Ember. However, in this particular moment, he felt a little more comfortable expressing himself. “It’s hard feeling like you’re alone,” Spike agreed with a sober nod. “I’m glad we can help you. I know it’s not a lot…” A few hundred tons of gunpowder was hardly going to turn the tide in the kirins’ favor, not against a foe as numerous and mighty as the Republic. At best, it would just put off the inevitable for a few more months. “It’s plenty, Master Spike—” “You don’t have to call me ‘master’,” the dragon whelp insisted, squirming uncomfortably in his seat. “I’m just a glorified secretary…” “You have brought my kind hope!” Autumn Blaze insisted, waving the parchment that she was clutching in her cloven hooves to accentuate her point. “As far as the kirin are concerned, that makes you a hero. “Thank you. I’ll never be able to say it enough, Master Spike, Thank you!” The red-maned mare was once more clutching the proof of the dragons’ promise to send aid to her chest. Again the little dragon felt profoundly uncomfortable to receive this level of praise from the mare. She was positively gushing over a little bit of gunpowder…that the ambassador was giving to the kirin because it amounted to little more than trash as far as the dragons were concerned. It made the adoration feel…undeserved. “...You’re welcome, Miss Blaze—” “Autumn, please,” the scaled-equine insisted, finally carefully folding up the parchment and securing it in her asbestos-lined saddlebag. She looked back at Spike and opened her mouth to say more…but then her eyes looked past him and widened— —Before immediately narrowing. Autumn Blaze’s lips pulled back into a sneer as her eyes remained locked on something that lay behind the dragon. A low growl started to build up in the kirin’s throat. A few wisps of smoke started to waft up from the corners of the mare’s eyes. Confused, and even a little alarmed, the purple dragon turned around to see what it was that could have affected the mare’s mood so dramatically. Which was when he spotted a familiar gray-speckled griffon hen who was standing in the doorway of the bar…and looking profoundly uncomfortable while doing so. Autumn Blaze’s visceral reaction to the sight of the griffon was not a unique one. Spike could feel the ambient temperature of the room rising several degrees as multiple kirin noticed the arrival of the griffon. The dragon wasn’t sure if they would have reacted this way to any griffon who happened to walk into their bar, or if this reaction was reserved for the Republic ambassador’s aide specifically. In either case, Spike largely considered his business here done with, and so didn’t see any reason why he should stick around. He packed away his own papers and headed for the door. Gabby stepped aside as he passed, giving the smaller dragon a wide berth. She also wasn’t looking at him. The two of them hadn’t said much to each other since the incident involving Ragnar Island. Not that the pair of aides had done a lot of talking in their off hours prior to it either. However, they at least used to trade courtesies as they’d passed in the streets—or separated their vitriolic charges. That hadn’t been happening these last couple of weeks though. Spike paused in the doorway. He looked up at the griffon. “Hey.” Gabby didn’t say anything at first. It looked like she was genuinely surprised to be acknowledged by the dragon at all. Eventually she managed to get out a quiet “hey” of her own though. She was still having trouble meeting the dragon’s gaze. He glanced over his shoulder towards the glowering kirin, then looked back at the speckled hen. “It’ll probably get rough if you go in there,” he cautioned. “...Yeah.” Both creatures went quiet again. The tension in the bar felt like it had ratcheted up a further notch or two as every eye in the room stared intently at the two creatures. The two of them weren’t just some random dragon and griffon. They were official representatives of their respective governments. Whatever they said could often be justifiably interpreted as being an ‘official position of their government’ when they were alone. When they talked together, it could be construed as a ‘negotiation’. If they were overheard saying things to each other—and their words weren’t chosen very carefully—it could cause problems if those words got back to their superiors. There were things that Spike wanted to say…but not here, and not now. So he left without saying them. Spike was halfway to his meeting with the diamond dogs to break the news to them about the dissolution of their gem trade when he caught sight of a pony stepping out of a nearby alley and waving him down. The little purple dragon slowed down and regarded the stallion for a moment to see if he recognized them. The first thing that Spike noticed about the buttercream unicorn was that he was on the taller side, and quite thin too. He wore his red and white striped tail a little longer than most stallions tended to as well. The pony’s attire—a blue and white striped shirt with a black bowtie—was a little on the dated side, as far as fashion went, but not horrendously so. “Can I help you?” The dragon asked. “On the contrary, my dear fellow, it is I who can help you!” The unicorn countered happily, a smile plastered across his muzzle. “My brother and I would like to offer your ambassador the opportunity of a lifetime!” “Really?” Spike didn’t make an effort to disguise his obvious skepticism. It was frankly quite remarkable how many creatures suddenly wanted to be ‘friends’ with dragons, now that they’d show that they could stand up to the Republic and make the griffons back off. Dragons were being seen as something of a rising political power, sort of like how the ponies were, and a lot of creatures wanted to be on the Dragon Lord’s good side all of a sudden. Creatures, both Ember and Spike were quick to note, who hadn’t cared enough to lift a hoof, claw, feather, or finger, when the griffons had had their paws planted firmly on dragon throats. These creatures didn’t care about helping the dragons; they cared about being helped by the dragons. “If you’d like to meet with Ambassador Ember, then I can make an appointment for you,” Spike said without even a hint of interest. “Just a heads up though: it’ll probably be in about a month or so, at the soonest.” The smile on the pony’s face briefly faltered slightly before reaffirming itself. “Your ambassador will really want to hear what my brother and I have to offer sooner than that—” “Are you here on behalf of the Equestrian government?” Spike interrupted. His tone made it clear that he already knew the answer to that question. It wasn’t that he was giving the stallion an opportunity to lie, but rather that the dragon was trying to hint that certain categories of potential appointments got priority. “Or any government?” “...Nooo…” The stallion responded very carefully, looking like he’d had to actually consider how he was going to respond to the question. “Not as such… “But—!” “Then you’re going to have to wait,” Spike cut the unicorn off again with a shrug. “Ambassador Ember has a lot of demands for her time, and most of them are from other ambassadors or government representatives. I can't bump them for some random pony and his absent brother,” the dragon waved a claw around them, noting that he and the lone stallion were the only creatures in the immediate area. “He’s soliciting other potential clients—” The pony began, only to be interrupted again. “Then you’re probably both better off selling whatever it is you’ve got to them,” Spike said with a dismissive wave of his claws before turning and continuing on to meet with the diamond dogs. The little purple dragon didn’t see the unicorn frown, but he did hear the scoffing words that followed him out of the alleyway. “You’re going to regret letting this opportunity pass you by!” Spike merely snorted and shook his head. Gabby watched the little purple dragon walk away from the bar without another word. There was a moment where she wanted to call after him. It was a fleeting one though. Especially when she once more glanced in the direction of the kirin in the dimly-lit bar who very clearly didn’t appreciate the presence of a griffon in ‘their’ bar—certainly not a griffon that was under the employ of the Republic government. The gray griffon hen debated walking further in anyway. This would hardly be the first—metaphorically—cold reception that she’d gotten from a group of kirin today. Frankly, the fact that none of them had gone full nirik yet actually boded quite well—! Oh, wait…no…that kirin in the corner just burst into flames. Deciding that she’d already plucked out enough burnt feathers for one day, Gabby beat a hasty retreat back out into the street. She cast one final cautious glance over her shoulder to ensure that none of the bar’s patrons were interested in chasing her down before allowing herself to let out a resigned sigh and commit to ending her futile mission to find a cooperative kirin on Harmony. It wasn’t going to happen, and Gilda was just going to have to make peace with that. Instead, she decided that her time would be better spent trying to get a meeting with some gem suppliers. Now that the Republic no longer had access to the rich deposits of precious stones on Ragnar Island, there was a hole in the griffon domestic market which needed to be filled. Unlike a few of the races in the world, griffons weren’t particularly magically inclined. So they didn’t have a need for gems in the same way that, say, ponies did. Nor did they use them as a food source like dragons or diamond dogs. However, griffons did still have a mundane use for them like many other races: as jewelry. Perhaps more so than some other races, griffons had a special love of shiny trinkets. Decorative accents studded with glittering gemstones were in high demand among griffon nobility and those of wealth and means. The Republic’s dominion over the Dragon Lands, which were rich in gemstone deposits, had provided the griffons with a plentiful source of gems for over a century, which had glutted the Griffonian markets with precious stones and gaudy jewelry. This had allowed for even the commoner classes of the Republic to start adorning themselves with the sort of jewelry that had, at one point, only been reserved for the nobility. As a consequence, the nobles had seen a need to “outdo” the commoners and set new standards of dress for themselves. Obscene quantities of gemstones had become an essential component of just about every article of clothing worn by a well-to-do griffon. Gabby had seen suits and dresses worn by the rich and powerful which resembled stained-glass windows more than they did actual clothing. However, after the dragons had revolted and kicked the griffons out of most of the islands of their native archipelago, it had fallen to the few remaining mines which the Republic still controlled to keep up with demand and ensure that the nobility’s hunger for gems remained sated. Otherwise, they might start expressing their displeasure for how the government was conducting itself. When the richest and most powerful griffons in the Republic started to get unhappy with how the Griffonian leadership was performing, a change in that leadership wasn’t likely to be far behind. And such changes were rarely bloodless… With the mines on Ragnar Island now back in the claws of the dragons, a shortage of gems in the Republic was inevitable. New sources needed to be found, and soon. Gabby decided that she would first try her luck with some pony merchants first. There were still a lot of ponies who were grateful to the griffons for their willingness to continue to trade all throughout their war with the zebras. A lot of the other races had embargoed Equestria during the invasion, so as not to risk incurring the wrath of striped equines. The Republic, meanwhile, had decided that the risk was worth the reward, and sought the opportunity to extract every bit of wealth that they could out of the doomed race while they still could. The prices that the griffons had charged the ponies had frankly been extortionate, but the Equestrians had seen themselves as being on the brink of extinction, and so they’d paid those high prices without a second thought, and even thanked the griffons for their help. The speckled griffon hen just hoped that the ponies wouldn’t sense the imminent desperation of the Republic’s own need for gems and charge the same sort of exorbitant rates— “Oh, sorry!” Gabby squawked as she inadvertently bumped into a stallion standing in her way. The griffon reasoned that she must have been too distracted to notice him there. She hastily brushed off his striped shirt and bowtie before offering up an apologetic smile to the mustached unicorn. She picked the straw skimmer hat that she’d inadvertently knocked off and held it out to the pony. “I didn’t see you there; and I’m kind of in a hurry—” “Now now, think nothing of it, miss!” The lanky buttercream stallion declared, waving off the hen’s attempt at an apology. His telekinetic field reached out and took the hat from Gabby’s outstretched claws, setting it over his red and white streaked mane. “No harm done! In fact, I’m grateful to have ‘bumped’ into you, as you’re just the griffon I’ve been looking for!” Gabby balked. Then she cocked her head and raised her brow. “...I am?” She reached a clawed hand into her satchel and took out a piece of paper with a list of the day’s meetings written on it. “I’m sorry, I don’t think I have you on my schedule for today—” “My dear, when you hear what my brother and I have to offer your ambassador, you’ll make the time!” The unicorn declared, his lips spreading into a grin that was almost too wide to be a truly friendly one. “Oh, you want a meeting with Ambassador Gilda?” That made sense, Gabby supposed. Most creatures knew who she was, and that the only way to really get a meeting with the head of the Griffonian Mission on Harmony was to speak with her. “Well, she’s very busy today—” Busy being too angry to take meetings, anyway, “so I can’t get you a meeting right now—” “It doesn’t have to be right this moment,” the unicorn assured her, his broad smile still firmly in place. “But, you should know: the offer that my brother and I have for her has a fairly limited shelf-life. The sooner we can meet, the better!” “Your brother?” The hen quirked her brow a little higher up on her face as she glanced around the street, but couldn’t spot any nearby ponies who resembled the stallion talking with her right this moment. Granted, she supposed she wasn’t an expert on pony appearance… “He’s not here right now; he’s meeting with other potential clients.” The smile on the unicorn’s face took on a surprisingly predatory glint for a pony. “Which is all the more reason it’s in the best interests of your ambassador to meet with us as soon as possible: the services my brother and I have to offer can only be offered to a single—exclusive—client! “And there’s bound to be some fierce competition for what we’re providing.” Gabby was unable to keep the frown off of her face. Her role as Ambassador Gilda’s aide meant that she was frequently propositioned with requests—or even outright demands—to speak with the Republic delegation’s Head of Mission. Naturally, just about every request was prefaced as being some flavor of ‘urgent’ that couldn’t possibly wait for any significant length of time to be addressed. Over the years, the smaller gray hen had become immune to the typical pushy tactics used by petitioners. “...Right. I’ll see what I can do, but like I said before: you’re not on my schedule and Ambassador Gilda is busy right now. So if you want to try later, I’ll see if I can do anything for you.” The hen offered a slight bow of her head and moved to step around the buttercream stallion. “In the meantime: have a good day.” “Later it is, then,” the stallion called out after her. “And a good day to you, Miss Gabby!” The griffon hesitated for a brief moment at the sound of her name being used. She was sure that she hadn’t introduced herself… Of course, the stallion had obviously known that she was Gilda’s aide, so it stood to reason that he would have known her name too. Still, it had been a little disconcerting to be called by name by a pony whose name she didn’t know. Gabby shook off the unease and headed on her way. It was getting late in the day. At least, that was what Gabby thought to herself as she shuffled the glass in front of her on the table between her talons. She’d only taken the one sip of its contents since sitting down, electing instead to watch the amber liquid slosh around its interior as she toyed with it. She didn’t feel much like drinking, in all honesty. She heard the approach of claws clicking on wood. Then there was the soft grunt of effort as a significantly smaller creature hauled itself into the bench across from her and slid down. A bowl containing a glittering blue concoction sat in front of the new arrival. “Sapphire soup?” The griffon hen guessed. It was an extremely safe guess, as the dragon sitting across from her always ordered the same thing whenever they came here. Theirs had started as a notedly unlikely friendship, Gabby would admit. On the face of it, it never should have even happened, given all of the historical bad blood that existed between the griffons and the dragons. Indeed, Gabby had been ready to treat the little purple dragon with the same stoic silence that she had learned to give to any dragon that she encountered—if only to forestall the potential outbreak of violence that was likely to erupt any time griffons and dragons exchanged more than two words with one another. It wasn’t because of any personal animosity on her part. Gabby hadn’t known a time when the griffons reigned over the dragons. To her, they weren’t ‘former subjects’ or ‘exploitable resources’ the way that some of the older griffons regarded them. They were just…creatures. Just one of the many other races that existed in the world and wanted to live in it on their own terms, no different from the griffons. However, she understood that for dragons—well, most dragons—it wasn’t exactly easy to let ‘bygones be bygones’ where the Republic was concerned. Not when the griffons still controlled so much land that had once belonged to the dragons, and not when Griffonian rhetoric constantly made it clear that the official position of the Republic was that dragons were still little more than barely-sentient monsters in their eyes. In a weird way, it had been that rhetoric which had led to Gabby and Spike getting to know each other better, ironically enough. Because the ‘official’ opinion of the Republic’s government was that dragons were of middling intelligence, it had also been their opinion that an actual ambassador’s time was too valuable to be spent ‘negotiating with animals’, and so Gilda hadn’t ever participated in any direct talks with the dragons on Harmony. She’d sent Gabby in her stead. Similarly, because the ambassador of the Griffonian Republic refused to meet with the dragon Mission, Ambassador Ember refused to sit down and talk with a ‘lowly aide’, and had sent Spike in her stead. Which had left the two young aides to sit alone and hash out whatever recent issues had cropped between their races. Those meetings had evolved into lunches in town, if only so that they wouldn’t have to be cramped up inside some conference room in The Citadel all day. When they’d finished their business, but not quite their meals, they’d broached unofficial topics of conversation with each other, if only to pass the time. Gabby would never be able to put a talon on the exact moment the two of them had become friends—chances were that neither could Spike—but there was little doubt between the two that they were friends. A fact that they kept from both of their respective bosses. Spike took a noisy sip of the steaming gemstone suspension before letting out a contented sigh and relaxing into his seat. “Yup!” He then craned his head to peer at the drink that was drifting between Gabby’s talons. “That doesn’t smell like cider,” he noted. “It’s not,” the griffon confirmed. “It was a long day; I wanted to try something a little harder. It’s rum. “I don’t like it.” “...Do you want to order something else?” Gabby lifted the glass and took a drink of her bitter beverage before setting it down again. “No,” she said with a shudder and silent gag. Spike’s eyes darted between the griffon and her drink, a look of concern etched in his face. “...That bad, huh?” “Gilda’s always been a bit…um…” the hen grasped for the word that she wanted to use. “...Of a bitch?” “Prickly,” Gabby finally finished with an amused snort in the little dragon’s direction. The smile which tugged at the corners of her beak was far too fleeting though, in Spike’s opinion. A second later, the griffon was looking despondently back down at the contents of her glass. “But lately…she’s been getting a lot worse. Especially since the…you know…” “The whole Ragnar thing,” Spike correctly concluded, earning a solemn nod from the griffon. “Yeah, I can see that.” “Don’t get me wrong, I’m glad you dragons are getting your lands back,” Gabby assured him. “I’m especially glad that nogriff—and nodragon—was really hurt during the whole thing.” And all of that was true, and she hoped her friend knew that. “But it obviously didn’t go over well back in the Republic…” Spike allowed himself a mirthless snort at what was undoubtedly quite the understatement on Gabby’s part. “I can imagine it didn’t, no.” The dragon was clicking his claws on the bowl in front of him now as he battled briefly with himself about how much more he wanted to say. He considered Gabby to be his friend, and he knew that she felt the same way about him. However, their bond came with certain limits—and explicit caveats. Whatever else the two of them might be, they would always be agents of their respective races. They owed a duty to those races as a result. Which meant that, while Gabby would always make a good-faith effort to keep anything Spike told her in confidence…that desire to honor their friendship would always end up warring with her duty to her office, and the Republic. He didn’t want to put the hen in a position where she’d have to betray him in order to stay faithful to her fellow griffons. “Ember’s been getting…um…” “Bitchy?” Gabby flashed a smile at the dragon, who in turn chuckled. “Pushy,” he lightly corrected. “I think she’s letting the success go to her head. The dragons evict a bunch of griffon civilians off of one barely-defended island, and suddenly she’s acting like we’re one of the most powerful forces on the planet!” Spike let out an exasperated sigh. “It’s like she doesn’t even care that we’re risking alienating the few races that gave us any kind of support after we liberated ourselves…” “Tell me about it,” the griffon hen huffed. “I can count on one hand how many races the Republic’s not antagonizing. But I’d need both hands and my paws to count off the races we’re actively bullying! “In fact, it might only be the ponies and the zebras that we’re not screwing with.” A moment of brief thought, followed by an eyeroll. “And the alicorns, obviously.” “Obviously.” “But, try to tell either of them it’s a bad idea to piss off the other races…” Gabby lamented before taking another deep gulp of the beverage that she quite obviously despised the taste of. “Us dragons have a long tradition of going our own way,” said Spike, stirring his sapphire soup with an idle claw, “so it’s not really a huge surprise to me that Ember and Dragon Lord Torch think we can stand on our own. But I thought you griffons would appreciate teamwork. Don’t you always fly in flocks or something?” “You’re thinking of pegasi,” Gabby waved off the dragon before grimacing. “Before we met you dragons, the only thing that we griffons hated more than literally all other creatures on the planet: were other griffons.” The hen flashed Spike a grin as she relayed the old Republic joke. It was a wholly mirthless expression. “Oof.” “Yeah, I think the only reason we keep picking fights with everycreature else is because, if we didn’t, we’d end up picking fights with each other.” “That’s depressing,” Spike noted. Gabby nodded in agreement. “It’s also pretty relatable…which is just more depressing.” Another nod of agreement from the gray hen. “I should try and arrange a meeting with the zebras or the ponies,” Gabby began, elaborating when she saw the quizzical eyeridge raise from Spike. “A decade ago, they were at war—one side had even nearly wiped out the other—and now they seem on somewhat friendly terms.” “Didn’t a zebra kill a pony when that ship was here last week?” Spike pointed out. “I didn’t say things were perfect,” Gabby sighed, “but Colonel Sparkle and Ambassador Zecora can at least manage to sit through a whole Council meeting without lobbing a single death threat at each other. That’s leaps and bounds better than what us griffons and dragons are doing!” “That’s fair.” Spike finally picked up his bowl and poured the solution of finely-ground sapphire dust down his gullet. “If they ever tell you their secret, be sure to clue me in on it too. “I’ve got to go, Gabs; we’ll talk later?” “Of course. See you later, Spike.” The speckled hen watched the dragon leave the cafe with a much less forlorn look this time…only for her mood to immediately be soured less than a minute later when a familiar mustached unicorn with a buttercream coat strode in. A nearly identical stallion—save for the lack of facial hair—entered the cafe at his side. Both ponies made their way towards Gabby’s booth and sat themselves down on the bench that Spike had recently vacated. “You again,” the griffon sighed at the mustached unicorn, before her gaze swapped over to the clean-shaven member of the duo sitting across from her. “And this is the brother you mentioned, I take it?” “He’s Flim—” “—He’s Flam.” The pair stated in perfect coordination, obviously having introduced themselves in this fashion quite a few times before. “You told us to come by later—” “—And ‘later’ is ‘now’.” The pair were grinning at the griffon. “And lucky for you—” “—Our once-in-lifetime-offer is still up for grabs—!” “—But not for long—!” “—No, not for long!” “You and your illustrious ambassador should strike now, while the iron is still hot—!” “—No time to strike like a hot time to strike! Right, brother-of-mine?” “Right you are, brother-of-mine!” Gabby’s eyes darted between the two unicorns as they spoke in their disconcertingly synchronized manner. She knew that ponies were good at working together, but this stuck her as a little outside the norm, even for Equestrians. It also sounded very ‘sales-pitchy’. The griffon frowned…but she wasn’t ready to give them the boot just yet. The least she could do was hear a little more about their offer, and whether or not Gilda would consider it worth her time. “And what is this ‘offer’? What would the Republic be getting?” “Power—” “—Riches—” “—A seat at the head of the table on the world stage—!” “—It could even be a ‘table for one’, if you’d like!” Gabby was immediately dubious regarding the former offers on the list…and more than a little wary of the implications surrounding the latter. “...And all of this power and riches would cost the Republic…what, exactly?” “Nothing!” The pair responded in unison, grinning broadly back at the griffon. “Pull my tail again,” the hen scoffed. “And why exactly would you help out the Republic for free?” Assuming that they even can help, Gabby thought to herself. This whole affair stunk of a con. “Isn’t that what friends do for one another?” The mustached stallion prompted. “We’re friends?” “We could be—” “—We should be!” “Your ambassador will want to be our friend—” “—More specifically—” “—More correctly—” “—More directly—” “—She’ll want to be our associate’s friend—” “—Our soon-to-be mutual associate—” “—If you accept—” “—If Ambassador Gilda accepts—” “—Which she should.” Gabby felt confident that she was going to strain her neck looking between these two stallions if this conversation went on for too much longer. “Okay…and what are the two of you—” “—And our associate!” “—And your associate,” the griffon amended absently, “offering the Republic, specifically? What are you willing to do for us?” Both brothers leaned forward and grinned at the aide. “Well that depends…” Began the stallion with the mustache. The next part was said in unison: “...What do you want?” Author's Note "We're not friends; we're coworkers." As always, a thumbs up and comment are greatly appreciated If you like the cover art and want to see more stories get them, I've set up a Cover Art Fund if you're interested and have any bits lying around! Chapter 8: Signs and Portents“This is outrageous!” Ambassador Gilda roared as she stalked in front of the table hosting the other representatives of the major powers, glaring at each of the seated creatures in turn. Of course, the griffon understandably reserved the manticore’s share of her ire for Ember. She continued to wave a rolled scroll around in the air above her head to dramatically emphasize her latest reason for screaming at the room full of gathered delegates. “The dragons attacked one of our settlements—another one of our settlements! “And don’t you dare try to claim any of that ‘they asked us for help’ shit!” The Republic ambassador snarled in Ember’s direction. For her part, the dragoness seemed content to remain in her seat and smirk back at the hen, her arms nonchalantly crossed over her chest as she watched the griffon bluster, appearing completely unperturbed by Gilda’s accusations. “This was a naked unprovoked invasion of Republic territory! Plain and simple!” Gilda rounded on the representatives of the other three major powers. “This Council has to take action over this! You’re all about ‘maintaining the peace’, right?! So maintain it!” She jabbed a talon in Ember’s direction. “The Republic demands that the dragons be sanctioned—to the most extreme degree possible! If this Council is supposed to have any legitimacy or purpose at all, then it can’t sit idly by and do nothing while innocent civilians are terrorized by foreign soldiers!” As the griffon’s latest tirade drew to a close, Twilight forced her features to retain a neutral appearance. It wouldn’t have done for her to roll her eyes at Gilda’s apparent complete lack of self-awareness. The purple unicorn spent a few silent moments combing her brain for the appropriate arrangement of words that she might be able to utter which would point out the hypocrisy of the Republic ambassador’s words, given the actions of her own government in recent years. Or even recent weeks, come to think of it… Fortunately, Twilight ended up not having to bring those facts to light. Ambassador Ember was apparently already prepared to do so: “We’re curtailing raiding activity,” the sapphire-scaled dragoness said matter-of-factly, sounding quite nonplussed by Gilda’s earlier vitriolic speech. “One of our merchant ships sailing in proximity to Rock Haven Island was fired upon by the inhabitants there,” the dragoness elaborated further, turning her head slightly to speak more to the other delegates in the chamber than to Gilda directly. After all, it was those delegates that she’d have to convince, not the griffon. “As this Council knows, under internationally-recognized maritime law: unprovoked attacks on merchant vessels by groups that aren’t at war with each other are de facto acts of ‘piracy’. The Dragon Lands are well within their rights to use any and all force necessary to seize a ‘pirate haven’ and arrest the criminals that based themselves there.” Ember paused now and favored her griffon counterpart with a mirthless smile which showed quite a few fangs. “Unless the Republic wants to insist that this attack on our merchant shipping wasn’t an act of piracy by a rogue group of griffons, and that this was instead a condoned unprovoked attack by Republic-aligned forces? Because that would make all of this an act of war…” “‘Merchant vessel’ my ass; that ship was a frigate!” “It was carrying cargo intended for sale at another port,” Ember countered easily. “That’s the only required criteria for what constitutes a ‘merchant vessel’ under the letter of accepted maritime law. Hull type and armaments are immaterial.” “Your ship fired first!” Again, Ambassador Ember was ready with an explanation. “The crew of the DLS Fang were conducting simple firing drills. It’s something ship crews often do—as you should know, ambassador. At no point did they target Republic ships or fortifications; their shots sailed harmlessly into the water, as was the crew’s intention.” She then flashed the other ambassador a reproachful look. “The island’s batteries, however, were targeting the Fang. “The ship and crew simply acted to defend themselves against what they perceived as an act of piracy; as was their legal right.” Ember leaned forward in her seat now, steepling her claw-tipped fingers as she stared at the fuming griffon. “Your government is free to stand behind the actions of the griffons on the island, but rest assured that if the Republic officially condones an attack on our merchant shipping, we will consider it to be a de facto declaration of war by the Republic against the Dragon Lands. “Given that the Republic’s fleets are currently otherwise occupied elsewhere with ‘anti-piracy’ operations of their own…” Ember’s eyes darted briefly towards the kirin delegation, who had thus far not demonstrated any indication that they might sympathize with Gilda’s condemnation, given their own ongoing issues with griffon aggression. “...I would caution you about opening up a second theater of operations so far from the first.” The dragoness paused, tapping a claw against her chin as she feigned thinking. “Or would this actually constitute a third?” Ember’s head tilted in the direction of the room’s hippogriff delegation, who also seemed to be regarding Gilda with some degree of animosity. The griffon ambassador was ready with her government’s official deflection once she recognized what the dragoness was hinting at. “That’s not an operational theater,” the hen reflexively insisted. “Our navy is simply curbing illegal fishing in our territorial waters.” The growl from the hippogriff representatives was audible to all five representatives of the major powers at the larger table at the head of the room. “Of course they are,” the dragoness said with a roll of her eyes and a dismissive wave of her hand. “But my point still stands: you don’t have the ships to do anything to us right now if you’re going to insist that the griffons on Rock Haven aren’t pirates. We, however, have a lot of ships and dragons with nothing better to do than to take back every other island in the Scaly Archipelago that has griffons on it if your Republic goes ahead with a war. “What was the civilian population that you have living on those islands at last count?” Ember asked in a tone of feigned-ignorance before she supplied her own answer. “Because your own census records put it at just shy of a hundred thousand a few years ago. That’s a hundred thousand Republic citizens with nothing between them and our guns and dragon fire if you give the wrong answer here, Gilda.” A smile which contained far too much glee at the prospect of slaughter on such scale for Twilight’s liking spread across the dragoness’ face as she issued her challenge to the hen. “So consider how you want to proceed from here very carefully, ambassador.” Gilda spent several long seconds visibly seething as she held the dragon representative’s stare. It was plain to every other creature in the room that there was a lot the griffon wanted to say…but she didn’t. Which, for the Republic ambassador, represented something of an uncharacteristic degree of diplomatic acumen. Instead, she glanced around the room, noting the number of other delegations that were regarding her with less-than-favorable expressions. The Griffonian Republic had not exactly endeared themselves to many groups over the last couple of centuries. Except for perhaps the ponies, to whom they sold weapons during their confrontation with the zebras. That had earned the Republic considerably favorable trade agreements with Equestria as a result. But she doubted that the griffons had earned anywhere near enough good will with the ponies for them to follow the Republic into an open war with the dragons. Especially a war which the Republic would have ‘officially’ been the instigator of. “Obviously,” Gilda eventually ground out through a tightly clenched beak, “the Griffonian Republic would never authorize unwarranted acts of aggression against another race.” The griffon somehow managed to say without a hint of sarcasm audible in her tone. She pointedly ignored the scattered outbursts from several of the delegations in the room, waiting for Colonel Twilight Sparkle to command silence in the chamber once more before she continued. “Nor,” she managed to force herself to continue, “would my government try and thwart…” The griffon was forced to swallow down—some—of the derisiveness that sought to color her next words, lest they come off as sounding a little too patronizing for such proceedings. “...anti-piracy activities.” Twilight took this opportunity to speak up again, sensing that the atmosphere had shifted considerably from what it had been when Ambassador Gilda began her tirade. “Is this Council to understand then that the Republic is withdrawing its demand for sanctions against the Dragon Lands?” The griffon ambassador took a deep breath to ensure that her response was properly controlled. “...Yes. We withdraw the motion.” Then Gilda immediately held up a talon and leveled it at Ember. “However, we demand that all of the griffon ‘pirates’,” the stress which the hen’s placed upon the label this time left no doubt now as to her own dubiousness of Ember’s claims, “be extradited to Griffonstone for trial! They’re still Republic citizens!” The dragon representative wasn’t swayed by this argument either. “They committed acts of piracy against the Dragon Lands. Foreigners or not, we hold primary jurisdiction over them.” Gilda’s talons balled into a fist as the hen let out another frustrated snarl before finally turning away from the dragoness and stalking back to her own seat at the curved table. It wouldn’t have been quite right to call what the griffon hen did ‘sulking’, but that description wouldn’t have been far off the mark either. ‘Fuming’ might have been an apt description too. She didn’t say much for the remainder of the meeting that day in either case. Which was probably for the best, given that some of the other business that had yet to be addressed involved the kirin asking for food and medical supplies to mitigate the harm being inflicted on their citizens as a result of the Republic’s continued efforts to ‘curb raiding activity’. Then there were the hippogriffs asking for an impartial committee to be formed which would confirm the boundaries of Griffonian Republic and Hippogriffia Queendom’s territorial waters. For that too, Gilda simply seethed in silence while abstaining from voting. When Twilight finally concluded the day’s session, she watched the griffon all but storm out of the room, shoving past a few of the other delegates who weren’t even quite in her path. Her gaze wandered to Ambassador Ember now, who had watched her rival’s departure with a wide smile on her snout. It was pretty evident that the meeting’s events had played out to the dragoness’ satisfaction. The purple unicorn approached the dragon. “Ambassador Ember, if I might make a request?” “Request away, colonel.” “It’s hard to believe that every griffon on Rock Haven Island engaged in acts of piracy,” the mare began. “There were nearly three thousand griffons on that island, after all, including families—chicks. If your government could at least see fit to return the civilians to the Republic—” “What civilians?” Ember’s words possessed a coldness that Twilight didn’t like. “I said that it was a ‘pirate haven’. There were no civilians there. Only pirates and griffons that were helping pirates. “They were all dealt with in accordance with established dragon law.” The little unicorn felt a chill grip her heart. While the mare was not intimately familiar with every law that the Dragon Lands had on their books—she didn’t even know all of Equestria’s laws—she knew how the dragons—and many nations, including Equestria—dealt with piracy: they employed the death penalty. Twilight’s mouth felt dry as she spoke her next words, because she was terrified that she already knew what the response would be. “...What about the chicks? Ambassador, surely you don’t mean that you—” “Did you know that Rock Haven was once home to one of our ancestral hatching grounds?” Ember interrupted. “It was one of our largest, in fact,” she went on, talking in the calm tone of one who was imparting a piece of trivia. “Rock Haven Island has extensive subterranean lava flows that make it an ideal site for keeping our eggs nice and warm while they mature. “There was a freshly-laid clutch on that island the day the Republic invaded it.” The dragoness’ ruby eyes now flared with barely repressed rage as she locked them onto Twilight. “Four thousand, two hundred, and seventy-nine,” she growled out in words that dripped with loathing. “That was how many eggs were on the island that day. “You should ask Gilda what the griffons did to them.” Twilight swallowed and said nothing. She was an expert on many subjects—and had the academic credentials to back most of that expertise up—but the unicorn acknowledged her ignorance with regards to each and every atrocity that the Griffonian Republic had inflicted on the dragons during their centuries-long occupation of the Dragon Lands. She knew that life for the dragons under griffon rule had been brutal. She knew that a lot of dragons lost their lives during that time for objectively trivial reasons. To put things exceptionally mildly, the griffons were, as Doctor Fluttershy might say: ‘not nice’. The unicorn wasn’t going to act as an apologist for the griffons. What the Republic had done to the dragons—what they were continuing to do to many other creatures—couldn’t be excused. Not in her mind. But, maybe, she could at least try to appeal to the ambassador to be less ruthless in the future; in the hopes that not answering atrocities in kind could avert an outright war… “Ambassador, how exactly do you expect the griffons to react when they hear that the dragons are executing their chicks—” “I ‘expect’ them to fly back to their fucking homeland and leave the Scaly Archipelago forever!” Ember snapped in reply. “To leave our islands and never come back! It’s what they should do, if they’re smart.” Ember’s lip curled as she continued to stare down at the smaller unicorn mare. “And if the only way for them to get the message is for some of their hatchlings to get snuffed for a change…then that’s on them. “They came to us, Equestrian,” the dragoness all but spat in Twilight’s face. “If you want to save the lives of griffon chicks, then convince Gilda to take her griffons out of our home!” With that, Ember sought to take her own leave, shouldering Twilight out of her way as the dragoness stomped out the same door that Gilda had. The unicorn winced and stumbled a little at the shove, but otherwise did nothing to reprimand the representative or retaliate. The ambassador was obviously at least as upset as Gilda had been. Nothing would be gained from trying to escalate matters over a rude push. Instead, Twilight simply looked helplessly in the direction of Ambassadors Zecora and Celestia, seeking any aid or wisdom that either of the more experienced delegates might be willing to offer. Her gaze lingered longer on the towering ivory alicorn. “I don’t even know where to begin on getting them to be friends…” It was the zebra mare who answered first. “Their pain runs deep,” she said. Beside her, Celestia offered a sage nod. “For nearly a hundred years, the dragons have not been mending their wounds; instead, they have been stoking their fires of hatred.” “The griffons and dragons are not at a place where there can be peace,” Celestia agreed. “Not right now. That process can’t begin until one side is willing to acknowledge the wrongs. “It doesn’t matter who goes first,” the alicorn went on, “but one side must. When that happens, then the other can be appealed to with a possibility—however remote—of success and peace can have a chance to take root.” Her muzzle broke into a smile now; unfortunately it was a wan one. “Unfortunately, it is nearly impossible to maneuver a party into taking that first step when tensions are as high as they are now.” Twilight’s shoulders slumped. “You’re saying that peace is impossible?” “I’m saying that it’s up to the griffons and the dragons. Nothing any of us can do will affect anything at this point.” The unicorn’s sigh was an exasperated one. “Irreconcilable differences. Great.” She brought a hoof up to massage her temple. As far as isolating the variables necessary to solve a problem went, this was one of the more complicated that she’d come across in recent memory. “Even if their nations have a lot of history though, that can’t be the case for the ambassadors themselves! Did Ember and Gilda even know each other before coming to Harmony?” She glanced between the other two mares, seeking any knowledge that they might have on the histories of the other members of their little quintet. “It is unlikely that the two of them would have had much direct contact prior to coming here,” Zecora concluded. “The griffons and dragons do not maintain embassies in each others’ nations.” “So then they don’t have any personal animosity—not really,” Twilight said, more to herself than to the other ambassadors she was speaking with. “If I can just get them to talk to each other—as individuals first and ambassadors second—then maybe they can figure out how to actually try and negotiate with each other in good faith. “Like actual proper diplomats,” she added with a rueful look cast towards the alicorn and the zebra. “It’s not always easy to get others to set aside preconceived notions that they have of others, even if they’ve never personally met,” Ambassador Celestia cautioned. “Creatures can often be emotional,” Twilight agreed, nodding. “But part of being a professional—like a diplomat—is being able to set aside your personal feelings to get the job done.” “Because if Gilda and Ember have shown you anything in these last few weeks, it is their ability to set aside their emotions,” Zecora quipped, doing a poor job of hiding a smile. If she was actually even trying to hide it in the first place. The little purple pony permitted herself an eye roll. “Fair point. Still, I should at least give it a try. I doubt those two meeting would make anything worse. “I’ll look over some books on mediation—maybe even a few psychology texts for some therapeutic techniques—and arrange a meeting with both of them,” Twilight said, floating out a quill and a piece of parchment to make some notes for herself. “I should be able to at least get them talking after a few meetings…” Zecora exchanged a dubious look with the alicorn standing beside her. Celestia politely cleared her throat. “If I may? You might want to consider that it will take more than reading a few books to help you resolve this issue…” “I don’t think I’ll get everything solved all at once,” the unicorn conceded, “but if I go into this with a firm didactic foundation, it should allow me to get those two headed in a more productive direction.” “Have you ever tried something like this before?” The taller mare inquired. “Well, no…” Twilight admitted with a small frown. “But the theories should be sound, and I’ll have those to lean on.” She finished making her notes and returned the material to her saddlebag. “Thank you both for the advice. I’ll let you know how it goes.” The little purple mare issued the other two ambassadors a brief bow of her head before turning and making her departure. Celestia and Zecora watched her leave. The former heaved a heavy sigh and shook her head. “On the bright side: she probably can’t make things any worse between them.” “Probably,” the alicorn conceded; though not without a hint of worry. Twilight considered whether or not it was too late for her to request new quarters. It wasn’t that the lookout post was particularly far from her present suite, but with as often as the unicorn was finding herself heading for the balcony, she suspected that the trip between her rooms and the outside were going to end up consuming a significant amount of her time over the next few years. She made a note to start tracking that time to see how much it added to over the next month. Her present hypothesis was that moving her quarters could end up saving her a couple weeks over the course of a year. Longer if the lookout post continued to be occupied when she arrived, the little purple unicorn very carefully did not think aloud when she arrived this latest time to find Ambassador Celestia standing on the balcony overlooking the island. However, it didn’t look like the alicorn had perched herself there in order to take in the view. The towering alicorn was facing west, her head raised to its full height with her horn awash in shimmering golden light. The sky beyond the island grew steadily dimmer. Twilight was forced to bite down on the excited gasp that fought to escape her throat, not wanting to risk disturbing the alicorn during such an important moment. It took a considerable quantity of self-control for the unicorn to not ignite her own horn and start probing Celestia’s spell to determine how it worked. Never mind how inexcusably rude such an unsolicited invasion of privacy would be considered, doing so without any sort of warning could potentially disrupt the spell being cast; and Twilight didn’t want to be responsible for explaining why sunset or moonrise had been postponed. She’d known that alicorns were responsible for moving the sun and the moon in the heavens of course. Every creature on the planet knew that about them. That fact—in addition to their reputation as wielders of singularly powerful magicks—was a significant part of why no other nation had ever initiated hostilities with the alicorns. However, until this moment, Twilight had never before seen the feat accomplished first-hoof. The unicorn focused her unblinking gaze on Celestia and committed every little detail to her memory. She fully intended to write down every detail later. The list of Equestria’s magical scholars who’d been in the proximity of an alicorn raising the sun or the moon was so short as to arguably not be worthy of being called a ‘list’; so Twilight knew that her own observations here could very well be worthy of being published in academic papers outright. It was something of a shame that she’d already completed her doctorate in Theoretical Magicks, as tonight’s observations could easily have sat in for her dissertation… The unicorn managed to—mostly—sit quietly and wait for the sky to finish dimming as the sun was sequestered beyond the horizon. A moment later, Celestia’s face was bathed in silvery light as the moon was raised in its stead. Only then did the alicorn extinguish the magic enveloping her horn. A small smile touched the tall mare’s face. “Good evening, Colonel Sparkle. How did your efforts to mediate between Gilda and Ember go?” The alicorn hadn’t appeared to even glance in the purple mare’s direction. Twilight flushed, not having realized that she’d done anything to be noticed. She cleared her throat and stepped out onto the balcony with the other mare, her own gaze focusing on the freshly-razed moon. “Ember laughed so hard that she accidentally set my quill on fire,” the smaller pony began in a flat tone. “And Gilda screamed so loud that she set off my tinnitus.” Twilight idly rubbed at her right ear with her hoof. “So they wouldn’t even meet.” “No,” the unicorn admitted with a sigh, “no they would not.” “I suspect that you did not come out here for an ‘I told you so’, so I’ll refrain from issuing you one.” “That’s very kind of you, ambassador.” “I also assume that their interest in meeting ended the moment they learned the other would be there?” Celestia asked. “Pretty much, yeah,” Twilight said in response. “That was, perhaps, your first mistake,” the alicorn offered. “Given that their animosity is a known quantity, you might have at least gotten them into the same room by forgoing mention of the others’ attendance.” The smaller pony frowned. “I fail to see how getting them to meet under false pretenses would help things.” “No ‘false pretenses’ are necessary,” the other mare insisted. “You could have invited each ambassador to meet with you by making a sincere offer to hear them out and get their perspective; and just happened to host both parties at the same time. “You would have at least gotten them into the same room together,” Celestia pointed out. “Obviously, whether they both stayed in that same room can’t be known,” she went on to concede, “but it would have represented making marginally more progress than you actually managed this evening.” “...I guess.” Twilight was far from convinced that it would have been much of an improvement on what ended up happening anyway. As far as she was concerned, she would have just ended up with ringing ears and smoldering quills at the same time. “I still don’t think tricking creatures into talking would be any more effective.” “Perhaps not,” the alicorn nodded. Then, in a more conversational tone, she began, “How are you getting along with your command staff?” Twilight hadn’t been anticipating the abrupt shift in topic from business to ‘small talk’ from the other mare, and so it took her a brief moment to compose herself and answer the question. “We’re getting on well enough, given the short time we’ve worked together. I think Major Rarity and I have the best working relationship so far. She’s very organized and runs an orderly staff.” Which was something that Twilight very much approved of. To say nothing about her always being able to count on the unicorn XO always arriving on duty with a positively immaculate uniform. Being exposed to that level of professionalism first thing in the morning always helped put her in high spirits at the start of a day. “And the others?” Now Twilight was forced to frown a little. “Captain Applejack and I are still recovering. She took the incident with the Dominance pretty hard. Not that I was particularly happy with how Ambassador Zecora manipulated things either,” the unicorn added with a lightly derisive snort. “She’s a good mare though; and I admire her integrity. “Captain Rainbow Dash…” Twilight massaged her brow. “...It’s not that she’s bad at her job,” she acknowledged, then the mare considered her wording and amended her statement. “Or rather: it’s not that she’s a bad flier. Her ‘job’ is to lead her squadrons—which she does…by about two leagues ahead of them during each patrol. “Her skill justifies her rank; but it hasn’t helped her to truly understand her position, I don’t think.” Twilight was silent for a short while. “I might end up replacing her. We’ll see. Part of my job as commander of the fortress is to mentor my other officers. If I don’t at least try to make Captain Dash into a better leader, then I’ll have failed as her commanding officer.” Celestia nodded. She then waited a moment to see if Twilight would continue. When the purple mare didn’t she ventured, “...And Doctor Fluttershy?” “By all accounts she’s a great physician.” Which was as far as the unicorn appeared to initially be willing to go on that front. She then caught sight of the alicorn’s raised eyebrow and sighed. “We haven’t really spoken much—at all—beyond me getting her morning report. She won’t talk to me outside of those meetings. “Frankly, after looking into her file a little more, I’m not sure that’s a bad thing.” “Oh?” “It turns out she spent time in the disciplinary barracks after the war—military prison, basically—for desertion,” Twilight explained. “She abandoned Equestria during the war.” The unicorn didn’t quite spit out the words, but it was a near thing. The mare didn’t begrudge ponies who had fled the invasion, if they were civilians. Ponies generally wanted to be safe, and Equestria hadn’t been during that time. It was different for those who had worn the uniform though. Ponies like Twilight—like Fluttershy—who had chosen to serve in the military and defend their lands, they had sworn oaths not to run. They—supposedly—had accepted the risks and promised to fight until the zebras were turned back into the sea…or until nopony was left alive to fight against them any longer. Fluttershy, it turned out, had fled during the war. When the zebras surrendered and offered peace terms, only then had the pegasus physician returned. She’d been subsequently arrested, tried, and imprisoned for several years. However, as doctors were a scarce resource after the war, the mare had eventually seen her confinement transitioned into probation and her license to practice medicine reinstated. Twilight wasn’t exactly sure how the pegasus mare’s assignment to Harmony factored into her reduction in prison time, but suspected that it had played a role in her early release. The doctor had hardly been the only deserter that Equestria had seen towards the end of the war, when the outlook had been at its most desperate. In those final months, it had mostly felt like a forgone conclusion that everypony left in Equestria was going to die. Some had managed to cling onto faint hopes, but…it had been fleeting at best. None of which did much to change Twilight’s personal opinion of those who’d chosen to run after promising they’d stay. “I see,” the alicorn finally said in reply. “You think less of her for running.” “I think it’s possible there are ponies who might have been alive today if there’d been another doctor around,” Twilight primly offered. “I won’t go so far as to say that it’s her ‘fault’ that any specific ponies died, but actions have consequences; and the ‘consequence’ of a doctor not being available to treat patients is usually that those patients die. “I’d never be able to put any kind of number to that,” the unicorn admitted, her mind already rushing through a few rough estimates based upon the casualty numbers she recalled from battles near the end of the war and comparing them to survival rates that she’d seen in reports compiled years later when the military was reviewing its procedures for evacuating and treating the wounded. There were quite a few variables that the little mare couldn’t hope to pin down with any real degree of accuracy, but she privately estimated the number of ponies an additional competent doctor on hoof could have saved to be in the low hundreds. “But it’s certainly above ‘zero’.” “The choices that we make have consequences,” Ambassador Celestia agreed with a solemn nod of her head. She turned her head out towards the sea, making it impossible for Twilight to see her expression. “For some, those consequences are a matter of life and death.” The unicorn’s ear twitched at the faint sound of a ragged breath being taken in and let out. “We just hope that the choice we make is one we can live with. In time.” Twilight’s lips pursed as the mare prepared to inquire if the alicorn was feeling alright. But, before she could, the towering ivory mare had turned to regard the smaller mare again, her expression was a warm one; though the gentle smile on her lips appeared just a little bit forced to the unicorn’s eyes. “It’s been a stressful day. If I might suggest: I know Major Rarity avails herself of frequent visits to a spa in Ponyville. “Our time there tends to overlap,” the alicorn explained, shaking out her billowing mane for emphasis. “So I know that she’s not averse to company and conversation. “You might benefit from spending a few hours in her company, colonel.” The little purple unicorn sighed, frowning slightly at the ambassador. “I’m not usually the kind of mare who gets a lot out of a visit to a spa,” Twilight said, gesturing broadly at herself with a hoof, as though her general appearance should have made that fact evident. Her mane style was certainly the sort that loudly announced to the world that no professional hooves were involved in sculpting her appearance. Unlike Major Rarity’s own impressive curls in her mane and tail. “But you might stand to gain something from talking with the major,” Celestia offered, to which the other mare was forced to make a conceding nod. “That might help,” Twilight acknowledged. “I’ll think about it. If I have the oportunity,” she qualified. “Running Harmony takes a lot of my time,” the mare pointed out. “Of course.” The alicorn turned once more and headed for the railing of the lookout. Her massive ivory wings flared in preparation for flight. “Good night, colonel; I’ll see you again at the next Council meeting.” She craned her head to look back over her shoulder, offering the other mare a smile. “Or, perhaps, the spa? If you decide to drop by…” Celestia leaped over the railing and beat her wings, ascending quickly towards the gilded airship moored at the top of The Citadel. The fortress’ commander watched her go, until a golden flash of light enveloped the alicorn and she vanished from view entirely. Twilight didn’t spend much longer on the balcony after that, electing to return to her quarters instead. After all, she did have some notes that she wanted to write down regarding what she’d seen that evening. A hot bath might not have gone amiss either. Now that the thought was in her head, a long soak in some warm water to help her relax sounded quite appealing. …Perhaps a visit to that spa wouldn’t be a bad idea after all. When she had the time, of course. Ambassador Gilda forced her talons to unclench. It took considerable effort to do so. The reluctant movement was followed shortly by the griffon hen shaking the shredded remnants of parchments from her hand, adding to the pile of ripped and torn reports that was steadily growing around her desk. Gabby, standing at the ready, wiped the last few pieces of scroll away from the desk’s surface with a deft flick of her wing and provided the ambassador with a fresh copy of the report that had just been destroyed. The aid held several stacks of multiple copies in her talons. Those stacks had been considerably thicker an hour ago. Gilda didn’t look at the unmarred—for now—copy of the latest observations that had been made of the movements of the dragons’ fleets. Instead, she took in a deep breath to try and calm herself so that she could think more clearly. It didn’t help much. Neither had the reports that she’d seen from Griffonstone which confirmed that the Republic wouldn’t be able to reinforce their holdings in the Scaly Archipelago any time soon. Certainly not soon enough to do anything about the next incursion that was coming, given what the latest movements among the dragon forces portended to. “Useless,” Gilda growled to no particular set of ears in the room. “They’re all fucking useless! “We can get back to dealing with the kirin and the hippogriffs any time we want,” the hen went on, “they’re not going anywhere. But the dragons are coming for us now!” This was a fact that the Republic’s leadership was both aware of, and apparently apathetic towards. They were prioritizing acquiring new coaling stations in Kirea and securing additional sources of fish near Hippogriffonia. In exchange, they appeared to be perfectly content to lose hold of the gem mines near the Dragon Lands—it would be a ‘temporary’ loss, she’d been assured. The ‘plan’—and Gilda had her doubts that the proposed course of action actually counted as a ‘plan’—was for the Republic’s forces to consolidate and move against the dragons once the other operations had concluded. However, based upon what Gilda was seeing in these latest intelligence reports regarding the dragons, the ambassador was convinced that was going to be a lot easier said than done. If it would even be doable at all. The dragons were undertaking an absolutely massive buildup of their military at the moment. Meanwhile, the most optimistic estimates from the Republic suggested that the griffons wouldn’t be able mount operations to retake their holdings in the Scaly Archipelago for at least another eighteen months. Strictly speaking, the dragons wouldn’t be able to assemble a navy that could match the size of the Republic’s even if they were granted eighteen years to do so. However, there was more to military considerations than raw numbers. The fact was that dragons were objectively larger and tougher than griffons. If a griffon wanted to win in a fight with a dragon, they needed both a numerical advantage and a technological one. The Republic still had the former. Even after a century of independence, the dragons had not quite managed to bring their numbers back up to where they’d been prior to their occupation by the griffons. Dragons were relatively slow to grow and mature when compared to most other races. They’d also had few viable hatching grounds available to them. However, what the Republic was steadily losing right now was their technological advantage. When the griffons had first arrived in the Dragon Lands, the residents of those islands had been mistaken for unintelligent animals because they had possessed exactly no technology whatsoever. They hadn’t used tools of any sort, hadn’t built anything, didn’t wear jewelry…there hadn’t been any outward sign at all of anything that other creatures would have taken as proof of a ‘civilization’ existing on those islands. It turned out that this had been a consequence of ‘necessity being the mother of innovation’...and the dragons hadn’t found themselves needing to innovate anything. Their claws could rend rock as easily as Gilda’s talons were tearing through the paper reports on her desk. Developing tools to do the job hadn’t been required. In fact, it could be argued that there were few tools which existed even today which could match a dragon’s claws for toughness and digging efficiency. Diamond dogs could give them a run for their money, perhaps. As tough as a dragon’s scales might have been though, they hadn’t held up to cannon fire; and dragon fire hadn’t been able to match the range of griffon artillery. Intelligent though dragons might have been, living like animals had allowed them to be slaughtered and corralled just as easily as any sheep, despite their objective natural toughness. But—despite griffon jokes to the contrary—dragons weren’t just dumb animals. They could think. They could learn. And the dragons had learned that fire, claws, and scales would only carry them so far in this modern world. So they’d adopted the tools and weapons of their oppressors. They’d learned how to use them…and later how to employ them effectively against their Republic masters. One of the larger dragon specimens was fierce enough on its own and represented a challenge to defeat without artillery available. Facing down a house-sized dragon encased in steel armor and wielding a ‘musket’ larger than most naval guns was an utterly terrifying prospect. Any griffon who said otherwise was a liar. No, fighting the dragons would not be anywhere near as simple this time around as it had been in the past. The longer the Republic waited to do anything about the threat that the dragons posed, the harder it was going to be too. Worse, they were getting bolder. More aggressive. More brazen. To the point that Gilda wasn’t convinced the dragons would cease their advancement once they reclaimed all of their ‘ancestral lands’. After all: what incentive would they have to stop taking Republic territory after seeing the international community do absolutely nothing to stop them up to this point? After seeing the Republic do nothing to stop them? The dragons had to be stopped. Soon. However, as Gilda had just borne witness to earlier that day: the Council would not act to curb the dragons’ advances. She’s just read the admissions from her own government that they weren’t going to do anything about it any time soon either. Which left exactly no options. It wasn’t like she had any resources that she could bring to bear personally— Her eyes darted to her aid. “Gabby, do you still know how to get in contact with those ponies you told me about the other day? The brothers?” “You mean Flim and Flam? Yes, ambassador,” the smaller speckled hen nodded. “Tell them I’m ready to meet with them.” It might have all been bluster, Gilda supposed. From what Gabby had explained, the siblings had not claimed any connection to the Equestrian government. They had alluded to having a ‘powerful’ patron unaffiliated with their homeland. ‘Power’, of course, came in many forms; and not all of them directly translated into military power. But, she supposed that there wasn’t much for her to lose when it came to asking if those unicorns and their benefactor could help in some way. If there was a chance that they could do something about the dragons—even if it was just to slow them down a little bit… “I know what I want.” Author's Note "You're trapped in a room with a dragon and a manticore. You have two pistols. What do you do? You shoot the dragon twice!" -- Old griffon joke. As always, a thumbs up and comment are greatly appreciated If you like the cover art and want to see more stories get them, I've set up a Cover Art Fund if you're interested and have any bits lying around! Chapter 10: Voices of Authority (Part 2)After the reception finally ended, Twilight decided that she’d rather take the ‘long way’ back to The Citadel. The whole day had been nothing but a near-endless source of stress for the mare and she knew that there wasn’t any way that she was going to be productive if she went back to either her office or her apartment’s study right this moment. Major Rarity was tending to—though ‘fawning over’ was the term Twilight privately used in her head—the chancellor and getting him and his staff properly settled in for the night. Tomorrow morning they would be getting hosted by the griffon embassy, with the dragons hosting that same afternoon—there’d been a coin flip. Twilight expected it to be an altogether mentally exhausting experience. All the more reason to try and recenter herself this evening before being subjected to even more stress. To that end, she was undertaking a stroll through the fort’s commercial hub. Ponyville was the ‘heart’ of Harmony Six and, like a heart, it had a beat, with rising and falling periods of activity and quiet. In the predawn hours, a traveler would be hard-pressed to catch anycreature walking down the streets. Just after sunrise, however, the markets would be host to a rising din of traffic as the residents left their homes to go to work. Creatures shopped and talked and ate and worked all through the morning hours. Then lunch would come, along with a slight lull in the mayhem as creatures took a pause in their day to eat. The afternoon would see a return to form though, reaching even greater highs of activity and noise towards evening as creatures took care of what few errands they had time—and money—for after leaving their jobs. Then came dinner and another lull. This lull would deepen though, and last for a good while longer than the lunch one. It wouldn’t last through the night though. Eventually the bars would close and foist their drunken patrons onto the streets, which is when the activity level would rise for the final time that day. Presently, Ponyville was in the middle of its early evening winding-down period. Shops were encouraging their last customers of the day to complete their browsing and make their purchases. Cafes and restaurants were filling up with patrons either stopping by for a soothing drink after a long day of work or those who were looking to enjoy the day’s final meal before retiring back to their homes for the night. Store owners locking away their wares and drawing shutters of curtains closed over their windows gave the purple unicorn the very real sense of the island ‘putting itself to bed’, and it helped to relax her. Twilight wasn’t quite as anxious now as she had been since getting word that the chancellor would be coming to visit. It was obvious that Fancy Pants was quite happy with both the Harmony Project and how she’d been managing the fortress thus far. Her career was safe and Harmony Six would continue to get the support that it needed in order to fulfill its mandated purpose. That all represented a considerable weight off of her withers. Which wasn’t to say that some small amount of anxiety didn’t continue to occupy her gut. After all, the heart of Equestria’s leadership was still present on the island. If anything happened to either Fancy Pants or Neighsay while they were in Twilight’s care, the Cavalry would have to invent a new rank below private so that there was something suitably low enough to bust her down to as a fitting punishment. Twilight suspected that she wasn’t going to get a sound night’s sleep until the chancellor and vice chancellor were back aboard the Fleur De Lis and gone from sight over the horizon. Until then, the little unicorn would have to seek out ways to reduce her stress level in the hopes of at least getting relaxed enough to doze off for a few hours at a time between the inevitable panic attacks. Right now, a walk around Ponyville surrounded by other relaxed creatures seemed to be doing the trick— The mare’s ear twitched. She turned her head in the direction of the frustrated tones that she was picking up from nearby. “—just been standing there for hours, not saying a word!” A mare was saying, sounding equal parts frustrated and nervous. “He won’t tell me what he wants, won’t speak to anypony, won’t leave. He just…stares!” Her curiosity about the source of this latest disturbance piqued, Twilight headed in the direction of the commotion. She easily spotted the sable pegasus mare whose furtive expression marked her as the one with the issue. A unicorn stallion wearing a gray vest which identified them as one of Applejack’s MPs was patiently listening to the pegasus, a pad and pencil floating between them as he took notes on the mare’s complaint. “He hasn’t really bothered anypony, so I didn’t flag any of you down earlier,” the sable mare continued with her explanation to the security pony. “I didn’t want to make a scene and it’s not like it’s against any laws for somepony to just stand around. But I want to close up for the day and he’s still here and he won’t even acknowledge me when I try to tell him to go! “I don’t want him arrested or anything; I just want him out of the building so that I can go home,” the pegasus finished with something approaching an exasperated whine. She was clearly a pony who’d had a long day of her own. Twilight’s gaze drifted upwards to the sign hanging above the door. It was then that the purple unicorn realized that this wasn’t a store, per se, but rather one of the local offices for an Equestrian shipping company. It was where creatures could go in order to arrange for space on ships that were owned or leased by the company for transporting cargo, passengers, or even just mail. Twilight’s eyes then dropped to one of the windows which allowed her to see into the dimly-lit interior. The unicorn blinked in mild surprise. She recognized the stallion standing inside. They weren’t anypony that Twilight knew, specifically, but she did recall having seen them before. After all, it had only been a few hours ago. He even still had the boxes balanced on his back. It was the earth pony who’d collided with Agent Nightshade while they’d been showing Chancellor Fancy Pants through Ponyville. He was standing inside in the middle of the office, staring. It was hard to tell from outside, but it didn’t look to Twilight like the pony was staring at anything in particular. He was just…looking straight ahead of him. A considerable amount of time passed before Twilight even noticed him blink. The little purple unicorn detoured closer to the pair of ponies interacting outside the office. “What’s going on?” “Please just move along—” The unicorn stallion’s statement started with a hint of annoyance before he’d fully turned his head enough to see who it was that was approaching. The MP’s eyes locked first on Twilight’s deep blue uniform, then darted to the sleeves of her forelegs in search of her rank. When no chevrons were found there, the stallion’s gaze instantly moved up to Twilight’s shoulders, where they finally locked on to the silver owls framing the mare’s neck. Only then did the other unicorn finally seem to look at Twilight’s face. The MP’s features blanched noticeably, even in the dim evening light of the street lamps, and he quickly snapped to the position of attention. “Oh! Colonel Sparkle, ma’am; I didn’t realize it was you.” His hoof crossed over his chest in salute. Twilight patiently returned the gesture. “It’s no problem, corporal.” She nodded her head in the direction of the earth pony visible through the window. “What does he want?” The pegasus mare was the one who answered, looking somewhat more relieved upon seeing Twilight arrive. Likely because the office worker believed that if anypony could resolve an issue on the island, it was the pony in charge of the island. “Colonel, please, I just want that pony out of the building. He came in hours ago and hasn’t said one word the whole time. He just stands there, staring at the shipping schedule!” “Have you tried talking to him?” “Of course! I greeted him and everything when he first came in, but he basically ignored me,” the feathered mare insisted. “Some ponies are like that—you can’t work a customer-facing job and not deal with the occasional rude jerk—so I didn’t think much of it at the time. “But then he just kept on not moving or talking. I’d try to ask him if he wanted help every so often, but he never answered me even once! I had other customers to help and work to do, so I just started ignoring him too. Like I was telling the officer here,” the mare gestured towards the MP, “he hasn’t done anything wrong—I don’t think—and I don’t want him arrested or anything. “I just want him outside the office so I can lock up for the night,” the pegasus jabbed a wing at the ground, fixing Twilight with a pleading look. “Alright; we’ll go talk to him,” Twilight assured the other mare, giving the MP a quick glance. “You just wait out here. Corporal?” The unicorn nodded and fell into step behind the purple mare as she headed inside. The cyan earth pony didn’t so much as twitch or flick an ear as the pair entered the office. He just kept staring straight ahead. A quick glance by Twilight confirmed that the stallion was indeed looking rather intently at the posted list of vessels which the shipping company owned or chartered, along with the dates that they’d be leaving Harmony Fortress and what ports they were heading to. If the pony had given a name during their earlier brief encounter that day, Twilight didn’t remember it. Given how the mare outside had described her—non—interactions with the earth pony since his arrival, she suspected that no name had been provided to her or the MP either. But it was worth at least asking the question to make sure. She glanced at the uniformed stallion at her flank. “Do we know his name?” “No, ma’am.” Twilight shrugged and turned her attention back towards the earth pony. “Sir?” Perhaps unsurprisingly, she didn’t garner a response either. She supposed that she really shouldn’t have been surprised, given what she’d been told thus far. On the other hoof, Twilight had been on the island long enough to learn that creatures would often have a lot more to say to her than they would to just about anycreature else. After all: Twilight was the mare in charge. Many creatures took this to mean that, if they complained long—and especially loudly—enough to her, then the mare might do something about their issue. The purple unicorn stepped around the earth pony and positioned herself directly in his line of sight and repeated her query. “Sir? I’m Colonel Twilight Sparkle. Can we talk outside for a moment…?” Her words trailed off as she finally noticed the glassy quality of the cyan pony’s gaze. It looked distant and unfocused. Like he was lost in thought or caught up in a daydream. He certainly hadn’t heard anything that Twilight had just said. The unicorn MP stepped up beside her and peered at the other pony. “Pupils aren’t dilated or pinprick,” he noted aloud. “He’s not drunk or high,” Twilight provisionally agreed, before adding a qualifying: “At least, not on anything with visible effects like that.” The unicorn was running through a list of potions she knew of that might leave the imbiber in a similar disassociated state. There were a few that came to mind, but she dismissed them all as possible candidates for the stallion’s current state. None of the potions she could think of which could produce this level of apparent obliviousness to the world would permit the pony to stand under their own power at the same time. “He’s clearly under the effects of something,” the corporal said. “Maybe some new kind of drug?” “It’s possible,” Twilight conceded, though she didn’t like the idea of some unknown substance being available on her island, especially if it could affect ponies like this. There were less concerning possibilities though. After all, there were a lot of creatures that came through Harmony Fortress, and not all of their physiologies reacted the same way to the same substances. “He may also have just used some seasonings that he shouldn’t have,” she hoped. “Either way, we should get him to the clinic to be evaluated,” Twilight decided. “Sir, if you can hear us: we’re taking you to see a doctor to get checked out.” She reached out with a hoof and tried to guide the earth pony towards the door. The stallion started to turn with Twilight’s gentle push, but then abruptly stumbled and spun back around until they were once more staring wordlessly at the board. She frowned and tried one more time to pry the earth pony away, only to be met with the same lack of success. The unicorn MP with her soon lost patience with the other stallion. “Alright, buddy; we’re not playing this game anymore.” He lit his horn and wrapped the earth pony in his telekinetic field. “Time for you to leave.” He started to forcibly drag the presumably catatonic pony towards the door. In response, the earth pony started to try and drag themselves back to the posting board once more, though with only marginal success against the soldier’s stronger magical hold. It was still taking considerable effort to haul away the stubborn stallion though, if the MP’s grimace was any indication. If he kept fighting, somepony was going to get hurt. “Get ready to catch him,” Twilight warned the gray-vested unicorn. The moment she received a nod from him, she fired off a modestly-powered stun bolt at the earth pony, striking him directly between the eyes. Instantly, the cyan stallion went limp, sagging slightly in the magical field enveloping him. Twilight hesitated for a brief moment as she checked to ensure the stallion was indeed unconscious before using her own telekinesis to shift him across the back of the MP. “Let’s get him to the clinic so he can be checked out.” It wasn’t the ideal conclusion that Twilight might have hoped for, but the purple mare reasoned that it wasn’t the worst outcome either. The pegasus mare could close up her office and nopony had truly gotten hurt. There was still the matter of finding out what had caused the earth pony to act as he had though. Twilight was conflicted on whether or not she wanted to learn this was all the result of some new kind of drug. On the one hoof, that would provide for a ready explanation of the earth pony’s actions this evening. On the other hoof, Twilight did not want to have to deal with drug smuggling going through her island—especially not while the chancellor was present. Twilight wasn’t surprised to find that the clinic was still open. It was always open, as there was no telling when a creature might get hurt or fall seriously ill. What did surprise the fort’s commander was that Doctor Fluttershy was still the physician on duty, even at this late hour. “I work rotating shifts,” the pale yellow pegasus explained as Twilight and the security pony jointly levitated the unconscious earth pony onto the bed in one of the clinic’s examination rooms. “It helps me to get to know all of my staff, as well as all of our regular patients that work different shifts.” Doctor Fluttershy started to look over the cyan stallion, performing a basic cursory physical examination. She glanced at the pair of unicorns who’d brought her this latest patient. “What happened to him?” “We’re not completely sure,” Twilight responded for the both of them. “He wandered into a shipping office a few hours ago and started staring at the departure board.” She glanced at the MP to see if there was anything more that the other unicorn wanted to add, but he just nodded in agreement. “The mare working in the office tried telling him to leave so that she could close up for the night, but he ignored her. He wouldn’t react to either of us either. He didn’t answer us when we talked to him, or come with us when we tried to escort him out.” Fluttershy nodded, continuing with her examination. “Then he collapsed?” “No, I stunned him.” The pegasus mare paused for a moment, before glancing at Twilight out of the corner of her eye. “He wouldn’t talk to you, so you stunned him?” She let out a little huff before turning away from the purple mare and picking up a stethoscope with her wing. Twilight frowned. “I didn’t stun him just because he wouldn’t talk to—!” Her protests were interrupted by the doctor slipping the stethoscope over her ears and signalling for silence as she began her auscultations. The unicorn stifled her rebuttal, opting to silently fume instead. She took a breath before turning to speak to the unicorn stallion in low tones. “I think we’re good here, corporal. Go ahead and write up a report and then return to your duties. Limit the citation to a Section 3.01(c), ‘failure to comply’.” It was a minor offense under most circumstances, and could be settled by paying a modest fine. The pegasus office worker had said that she didn’t want to press any charges for the trespassing, and so Twilight wouldn’t. However, that didn’t change the fact that several other regulations had been violated on top of the trespassing. The corporal nodded and left. Twilight waited in silence for the physician to finish her evaluation. “His vitals all appear normal,” Fluttershy finally announced, slipping the stethoscope from her ears. “Take a blood sample to test for any drugs in his system,” Twilight told her. “When he wakes up, collect some urine too. I want to know if he was under the influence of anything.” Fluttershy made no move to comply with the unicorn’s orders. “...Is he one of your soldiers?” “No; he’s a civilian as far as I know.” “‘Failure to comply’ under a three-oh-one-see is a minor infraction when applied to civilians. It’s not sufficient to procure a warrant for blood,” the pegasus said. The doctor was technically correct, Twilight acknowledged. While Harmony Six was, first and foremost, a military installation and thus subject to military penal codes, it had been deemed to be unreasonable for the soldiers assigned to the island, and the civilians who happened to be living on it or passing through—especially the non-Equestrians—to be held to the same rigorous degree of harshness that was expected for soldiers. So provisions had been written into the codes that created lesser tiers of offenses for those civilians. Offenses that would have seen an enlisted pony getting serious punishments only incurred modest fines for civilians. This also meant that Twilight couldn’t treat civilians like they were one of her soldiers. Regulations allowed for a commander to order any soldier under their command to undergo a drug test to determine their fitness for duty at any time. However, that same latitude did not extend to the common pony—or creature—without her first being able to establish a sound reasoning as to why the test was needed. That being said, Twilight wasn’t really interested in using the results to further punish the stallion. She just wanted to know if there was something present on Harmony she needed to be aware of. Something to tell Applejack to be looking out for, or a reason to have Rarity’s customs ponies be more thorough in their searches of cargo. “I won’t have him charged if you find anything, doctor. I just want an explanation for his behavior.” “And I don’t want to violate my patient’s trust,” Fluttershy lightly rebuked. “You can ask him to submit to a voluntary screening when he wakes up. Or you can charge him with something more serious that would allow you to compel me to collect a sample.” There was the slightest hint of challenge in the otherwise soft-spoken voice. Twilight’s muzzle twisted into a slight frown but she elected not to push the issue. She wasn’t going to get into an argument with the physician over this, especially when she was forced to acknowledge that the doctor was correct where the letter of the regulation was concerned. Following the regulations was important, even if they happened to be inconvenient in the moment. “Very well, doctor. I’ll ask him when he wakes up.” The purple unicorn lit her horn and extended her magic towards the unconscious earth pony on the examination bed, dispelling the residual magic from her earlier stunning spell. Almost immediately, the stallion began to groan and stir on the bed as consciousness began to return to him. Fluttershy glanced at her out of the corner of her eye that wasn’t hidden away by her unbound mane but didn’t say anything. For her part, Twilight allowed herself a satisfied smirk. When the doctor saw the earth pony’s catatonic state, she’d be obliged to draw blood to perform tests on it in the hopes of determining a potential pharmacological cause, the unicorn reasoned. Doctor Fluttershy surely wouldn’t decline to provide treatment for a patient who was obviously suffering from the ill-effects of something. Those results would reveal the presence of any illicit substances in his system and Twilight would have her answer. The cyan stallion’s eyes fluttered open and he started to glance around the room. “W-wha…? Where am I? What happened?” His gaze locked onto Twilight first. “Colonel Sparkle?” Both ponies exchanged mutually-confused looks with one another, and largely for the same reason: neither had expected for the earth pony to ‘wake up’ in the clinic. Twilight’s own shock was very briefly replaced by a moment of frustration that her intended plan hadn’t worked out, but that feeling was quickly overshadowed as she realized that having access to a pony who was finally willing to talk with her would help get her the answers that she was after. “You’ve recovered. Good. I’d like to ask you some questions about what happened at the shipping office.” Twilight floated a quill and roll of parchment out of her saddlebag. “...Recovered? I was hurt?” The stallion glanced over at the nearby physician before giving the parts of his body that were visible a look. Finding no signs of wounds or bandaging, he amended his question. “Or sick?” “‘Catatonic’ is likely the most medically correct term to describe the condition you were found in,” Twilight supplied, giving the nearby pegasus mare a look as she sought confirmation. Fluttershy didn’t react, likely because she was unwilling to agree to a diagnosis based on symptoms that she hadn’t witnessed first-hoof. Instead, the physician began another brief examination of her patient, now that he was awake and—apparently, now—responsive. “What’s the last thing you remember?” “Remember?” The stallion’s features scrunched up in concentration as he sifted through his memories. “I was going home after some shopping…” he began, hesitantly. His words only became less sure sounding as he went on. “I…needed to leave?” He seemed to be searching Twilight’s face for confirmation of his own recounting of events, which only served to further frustrate the purple mare’s quest for answers. “Is that why you were at the shipping office? You were leaving the island?” “...But I live here,” the earth pony insisted. “Why would I leave? Where would I even go?” Twilight let out a mildly exasperated sigh. “I was hoping you could tell us. You were the one standing in the office for hours looking at the departure board.” “I don’t remember that.” “Clearly. Did you eat anything unusual today?” The unicorn asked, changing tacks. “Maybe stop somewhere for a few drinks?” “Nothing that I don’t usually have,” the stallion replied. “There’s a minotaur-run bistro near my apartment that I eat breakfast at, and then I grabbed lunch later at the Ponyville market. I don’t drink. At least, not anything that’s not water or juice,” he insisted. “Would you mind submitting to a drug test?” Twilight inquired, nodding her head in Fluttershy’s direction. “It’s possible that your food was tainted with something.” The fortress’ commander was willing to entertain the notion that the stallion hadn’t—knowingly—been operating under the influence of any mind-altering substances. It wasn’t impossible for him to have been exposed—either accidentally or intentionally—without his knowledge. Though Twilight didn’t yet have any worthwhile theories which would have explained the why of it. That could come later if anything was found. “I suppose that’s alright,” the stallion agreed. Then, a little more hesitantly, he asked, “Am I in trouble, colonel?” Twilight opened her mouth and was about to respond in the affirmative…but then stopped herself. She’d told the MP to write up a citation against the stallion, but that had been before she’d had a chance to speak with him. When she’d been working under the theory that he’d intentionally intoxicated himself somehow. However, now that she’d seen how the earth pony reacted upon being told of his earlier actions, she wasn’t so sure anymore. He could be lying, she supposed. Ponies involved in illegal activity often lied, after all. But if that was the case, then this stallion had missed out on receiving his cutie mark in theater, because his acting was extremely believable. “If your food or drink was tainted somehow, then no; you’re not in trouble,” Twilight assured him, making a mental note to tell the corporal outside to hold off on publishing the report and the citation until Fluttershy had concluded her tests. She looked at the pegasus in question. “Please let me know if you find anything concerning, doctor. If tainted food is indeed on the island, we need to know as soon as possible. Especially if it can cause creatures to behave erratically like that.” Harmony Fortress did have a few acres of arable land that allowed for the cultivation of some fruits and vegetables, but it wasn’t nearly enough to support the island’s entire population. Food needed to be shipped across the ocean constantly, and in large quantities. If some of those provisions had gone bad for some reason, they needed to know so that it could be confiscated and replaced. Quickly. Fluttershy nodded and started to collect the needles and tubes that she would need in order to perform the tests. “...I’ll let you know if anything is found that you need to know about, Colonel Sparkle.” She then turned a cool blue eye towards the unicorn. “If you’re done with your questions now, I’d like you to leave. He’s still my patient.” Twilight kept from saying anything in rebuttal in front of the earth pony civilian. The island’s population didn’t need to know about the friction between herself and the fortress’ senior medical official. Instead, she merely nodded and left. After having a brief conversation with the MP corporal about the report she wanted him to write, Twilight left the clinic entirely and started her journey back to The Citadel. Harmony Fortress had slid into its final period of increased activity for the day as the bars all started to close and disgorge their clientele into the street. The air was filled with the drunken caterwalling of poorly-pitched songs sung in unsynchronized choruses and slurred conversations between friends and lovers whose blood-alcohol content had robbed them of the ability to exchange words at anything quieter than a boisterous shout. Captain Applejack’s security ponies were doing their best to herd the ambling mass of revelers off of the streets and into their homes. After the exceptionally long day that she’d had—though one that had been perhaps more emotionally exhausting than strictly physical—Twilight was very much looking forward to getting back to her own bed. She’d want to be well-rested for the next day of chaperoning Chancellor Fancy Pants and his delegation. The visits with the dragons and the griffons were sure to be particularly draining, she was sure. Just the thought of listening to Ember and Gilda blaming each other for the state of the hostilities between their two nations was enough to make the unicorn groan aloud. “Now you look like a pony who’s in dire need of a cupcake. With extra sprinkles!” The purple mare jerked at the sound of the proclamation coming from nearby. Then she blinked in rapid succession as she stared at the pink-frosted cupcake that was being held right in front of her, taking up nearly all of her field of vision. Her gaze then darted to the equally pink hoof that was holding the pastry aloft, following it along the rest of the foreleg until she finally found its owner. “You!” “I!” Responded a familiar-looking grin. There was a pause, then: “Okay, your turn!” Twilight blinked again, the next words that she’d intended to say derailed by the rather unexpected follow-up from the pink-on-pink earth pony. What should have words focused on trying to get an identity out of the mare instead manifested themselves into a singular perplexed “...What?” “Oh, that’s wrong; but you were very close!” The mare, who was still holding up the cupcake, said. “You should have gone with: ‘why’.” “Why?” Twilight was unable to keep herself from echoing as her brain struggled to resolve where this conversation was heading. “Because it is sometimes,” came the nonplussed reply from the earth pony, as if the conversation were still flowing along an easily navigable path. The unicorn felt like she was still struggling though. “It’s what sometimes?” She desperately reached for clarification, hoping to find some way back towards comprehending what the other pony was talking about. “Oh, no; I don’t think it can be that any time.” “...What can’t be?” “Right!” “What’s right?” “No, ‘what’s wrong; I just told you that!” The pink mare replied, now looking at Twilight with a mildly concerned expression. “Are you feeling okay, Twilight?” Twilight closed her eyes and took a deep breath. She spent a few moments sifting through the preceding exchange of words that she categorically refused to qualify as being a ‘conversation’, lest word of her doing so got back to one of her professors at the university and they retroactively rescinded her literary degree for such an affront. Instead, the unicorn opted to promptly discard the whole affair as being utterly unintelligible. Her hoof came up and started to massage her temple as she finally released a long-suffering sigh. “I think I’m starting to get a headache…” she muttered under her breath. “Oh. Well then you should go back into the clinic and get looked at,” the earth pony unhelpfully suggested with what sounded like complete sincerity, bereft of even a hint of sarcasm. “You probably should have mentioned it while you were in there having that stallion checked out.” “How did you—?” Twilight cut her own question off mid-sentence. If the unknown mare had been close enough to see her come out and—apparently—had been specifically waiting for her in order to deliver the cupcake, then it stood to reason that the earth pony had watched all three of them enter the clinic in the first place. “Who are you?” The pink mare waved her hoof at Twilight. “Woah; hey! You can’t go tossing that question around just yet; we’re not at that point in the story.” “...What?” “Besides, there’s way more important questions you should be asking creatures before we get to that one!” The earth pony insisted, flashing Twilight a broad grin. “I remember you from my first day on the island,” the purple unicorn desperately tried to restart the conversation that she’d intended from the moment she’d realized who the pony holding the cupcake was. “I’ve been trying to find you, so that I could compensate you for all of those pastries. I can’t accept gifts,” Twilight explained, her magic already flipping up the lid of one of her saddlebags. She didn’t carry around a lot of bits as a general rule, since there wasn’t a lot that she needed to actually buy in the way of daily necessities, but she’d be able to write out a voucher that could be redeemed at the quartermaster’s office for fair compensation in hard currency. The earth pony’s expression shifted into one of abject horror. It was as though the mare had been sent physically reeling by the fortress commander’s words. “You can’t accept gifts?! That’s horrible!” It was difficult to tell if the pink pony was more outraged at the revelation, or if she was simply expressing indignation on Twilight’s behalf. In either case, the exclamations were loud enough to draw quite a few annoyed stares from those inebriated enough to take exception to unnecessarily boisterous noises. “That means you haven’t had any birthday presents! Or Hearth’s Warming presents! Or Mare’s Day presents! Or Unification Day presents—I know that one doesn’t involve gift-giving usually, but the hypothetical opportunity still exists!” The mare hastily amended before diving back into her verbal list. “What about Yule Day? Or your Cuteceañera? Or Nightmare Night? “You’ve never gotten gifts for any of them in your whole life?!” The earth pony produced parchment and a wax crayon and began to scribble. “I’m going to need to work a lot of overtime if I’m going to make up the deficit before I leave…” Twilight forgot about the voucher amid the onslaught of questions, “I meant professionally!” She protested. Then her mind caught up to the—nearly—all-encompassing list that had been rattled out and she blinked once more before narrowing her eyes at the pink mare. “...Why didn’t you mention Hearts and Hooves Day?” The pink mare poked her head up from behind the parchment, her previously pained features flowing seamlessly into a knowing look. Nothing was said aloud. She simply regarded the unicorn with a slight quirk of her lips and a held stare whose meaningfulness felt as though it gained considerable weight by virtue of being offered over the top of the parchment still hiding most of her features. Twilight felt her cheeks flush, her mouth opening and closing wordlessly for several excruciatingly long seconds. “Give me your name,” she didn’t quite growl once she found her voice again, her telekinesis resuming its search for a quill and roll of parchment within her saddlebag. “Do I have to? I’m kind of using it right now,” the other mare quipped, her lips pulled into a broad, teasing, smile. “Plus, I got it from my mother so it holds a lot of sentimental value for me.” The purple unicorn glared now, her patience wearing thin. “I need it.” “Why? What’s wrong with the one you already have?” The innocent-sounding mare asked with an impressively earnest expression. “Personally, I think ‘Twilight Sparkle’ sounds really nice! Certainly way better than ‘Black Snooty’…” “...Your name is: Black Snooty?” Twilight asked hesitantly, her eyes wandering over the body of the pink-on-slightly-darker-pink coat and mane of the earth pony standing in front of her. The unicorn realized that she hadn’t seen the cupcake from earlier in a while, but that tidbit of information didn’t quite register on a significantly conscious level as she kept trying to navigate the winding exchange she was having with this stranger. Heavy emphasis on the leading syllable. “Of course not; that’d be a ridiculous name for a pony like me to have!” The earth pony deflected with a snort. “I’m much more of a Periwinkle Booty,” she snickered, giving her hind end a little wiggle. Before Twilight could comment one way or the other, the mare was suddenly standing right beside her, a foreleg draped over the colonel’s withers as the unicorn was drawn in close for a conspiratorial-style stage whisper. “Between you and me: I ‘taste-test’ way too many of my own cupcakes; if you know what I mean?” The earth pony’s nearest baby blue eye gave an exaggerated wink. Twilight jerked and took several steps to the side in order to free herself of the invasion of her personal space. “...Periwinkle is actually more blue than pink,” was all she managed to idly say, her thoughts otherwise too preoccupied with trying to fathom how the earth pony had moved so fast as to be right up on the unicorn in less than a heartbeat. “Really? Huh. Weird. Because that name just sounds pink; you know what I mean? Like, I can’t hear it and not think about something pink. Like chartreuse!” “That’s more of a yellow—” Twilight snapped her muzzle shut with an audible smack before shaking her thoughts vigorously back into order. She glared at the earth pony, her magic lancing back into her saddlebag once more, in search of writing materials. “Tell me your name!” Twilight was all but seething now, at her wit’s end with this mare’s shenanigans. The unicorn had half a mind to call out for assistance from an MP in order to have the pony taken into custody; except that Twilight couldn’t think of any charges that could have been levied—if only provisionally—to justify the detainment. ‘Being flighty’ wasn’t something covered in the fort’s judicial code. Twilight made a note to send a request back to Canterlot to have the statutes amended in order to correct the oversight… “Chartreuse is yellow? Well that’s disappointing. Why can’t the words that sound pink actually be pink? I’d have loved to be associated with a word like ‘puce’...” The earth pony muttered in a dejected tone. “Puce is a shade of pink—” Twilight corrected automatically before she finally lost her patience with her fruitless efforts to find her quill. She knew that she’d packed it earlier! She wrenched the saddlebag from her back and held it open in front of herself so that she could physically look inside. “—Where is my quill?!” “Here, you can use this one,” the earth pony said, holding out a scarlet quill resting upon her hoof. Twilight glanced up and saw the offered writing implement. “...Thank you,” she said reluctantly, taking up the feather in her magic. Then her eyes narrowed as she started to scrutinize the all-too-familiar-looking quill. “...Hey! This is mine!” The purple unicorn looked up and glared…at a vacant section of road where she could have sworn there had been a pink earth pony standing only a moment ago. Her head whipped around from one direction to the other, but Twilight wasn’t able to spot any sign of what should have been a profoundly visible pony, even considering the late hour. There didn’t seem to be any sign of her, or an indication of which direction the mare had gone. Twilight spent a few moments fuming at the fact that the pink earth pony had managed to effectively vanish as if by magic a second time before floating the quill into her open saddlebag. That was when the unicorn hesitated, her eyes narrowing slightly as she beheld something within that she didn’t recognize. Something that she was certain hadn’t been in the bag earlier in the day: a piece of parchment that had been folded into a cube. Cautiously, Twilight extracted the paper box, holding it aloft with her telekinesis. She vaguely recognized the technique which had been used to create the paper craft as being a form of traditional art practiced by the kirin. The purple unicorn noted that the little box had some weight to it—not a lot, but there was clearly something inside of the little container. So she used her magic to carefully unfold the parchment… …And revealed the same cupcake with pink frosting and liberally covered in sprinkles which had been offered to her by the earth pony earlier. Twilight’s lip quirked up into a resigned smile. It seemed that disappearing into thin air wasn’t the only feat of magic which the earth pony was capable of performing. Filching the unicorn’s quill and planting a confection into her saddlebag without the little purple mare being any the wiser was an impressive enough accomplishment to—narrowly—outweigh her annoyance. Now that she’d been granted a moment to process their interaction, Twilight had to wonder if the pink pony’s intent hadn’t been to intentionally frustrate her in order to keep Twilight distracted by her own annoyance. Distracting the mark was ‘Slight-of-Hoof 101’. And Twilight had fallen for it without hesitation, because it hadn’t occurred to her to suspect any sort of ulterior motive from the baker. She’d know better for next time—something inside Twilight simply knew that there would indeed be a ‘next time’. Deciding that there wasn’t likely to be any lasting harm in it—and the cupcake smelled very good—Twilight took a bite. Just as with all of the pastries from that first encounter, it was one of the best cupcakes that the unicorn had ever had. The unicorn was mid-chew when she noticed that there was something written on the unfolded parchment still clutched in her magic. Curious, the mare’s telekinetic field smoothed out the paper and she read over the words: You’re not asking the right creatures the right questions. Why are you here? Twilight couldn’t help but feel that the nominally cryptic message lost something of its intended weight due to the fact that it was written in pink crayon. Still, there was something to be said for not discounting offered information simply due to its appearance. While the earth pony was clearly excentric—which felt like a considerable understatement after this most recent interaction—there was something more to her than meets the eye. She had managed to avoid all of Captain Applejack’s attempts to locate her for several weeks after all. “Why am I here?” Twilight murmured under her breath as she folded away the parchment into her saddlebag and resumed making her way back to The Citadel. It was a simple-sounding question with an obvious answer: Twilight was at Harmony Six because she’d been assigned here as its commander. As for why she’d been granted the assignment: it had been presented to her as something of a reward. Her actions at White Tail had seen her branded as a ‘war hero’ during Equestria’s war with the zebras. Surviving the Battle of Canterhorn Mountain had also served to further inflame her ‘legend’ within the Cavalry. Promotions had come quickly as a result. Most of her peers were the better part of a decade her senior in age, as well as rank. There were paltry few commands available for a pony of her rank as a result. Not without stepping on the hooves of more senior colonels with powerful friends in the Cavalry and the government. Twilight had been staring at the strong possibility of winding up on the staff of some general—hardly a terrible fate for an officer, but certainly nothing befitting ‘The Hero of White Tail’. So, when Harmony Fortress had completed construction…she’d been given the—dubious—honor of being made the distant island fort’s commanding officer. She was a new colonel with a garrison command. It was practically fast-tracking her for brigadier! What other reason for the assignment could there be if not as a way to help propel a star officer up through the ranks? Though, as fate would have it, there was hardly better timing available to the unicorn than right now to seek confirmation of her theory: she had the chancellor within hoof-reach, after all. While Fancy Pants hardly made the assignment decisions for all of Equestria’s military installations, Harmony was his project. He was bound to have had a say in who was placed in command here. Or at least final approval of anypony suggested by the Cavalry’s leadership. He’d know why Twilight was here if anypony did— …asking the right creatures… Twilight paused midstep as she ran the message’s words through her mind once more. She even spared a moment to reread the parchment to be sure she wasn’t misremembering them. Not ponies; creatures… After that conversation—which was a descriptor that Twilight was still only provisionally using to refer to that exchange—the unicorn wasn’t so sure that the pink mare was the sort to pick her words without special care. She wasn’t being inclusive for the sake of political correctness, Twilight didn’t think. She’d been suggesting that the one who held the actual answer wasn’t a pony. The first place that Twilight’s eyes darted to after that thought entered her head was to the airship moored at the top of The Citadel. The alicorns would certainly have had the diplomatic pull to influence the selection process, she supposed. Of course, Twilight couldn’t come up with any reason why the alicorns might want her here specifically. That didn’t mean that the alicorns hadn’t had a reason. Deciding that she wasn’t going to come up with any meaningful answers standing around Ponyville in the middle of the night, Twilight finished her cupcake and headed for her quarters. She’d find the time to ask the chancellor about some of the details behind her appointment. Then she might have some inkling as to why the reason for her being sent to Harmony Six would even matter. Twilight recognized that Harmony Fortress was an important posting, and that its commanding officer would be in a position to wield a lot of influence; but what exactly was she going to accomplish here that no other reasonably competent officer could? What made Twilight so special? Author's Note Can you even cast a foreshadow at night? As always, a thumbs up and comment are greatly appreciated If you like the cover art and want to see more stories get them, I've set up a Cover Art Fund if you're interested and have any bits lying around! Chapter 11: Spider in the WebIf Twilight didn’t know for a fact that magic which manipulated time didn’t exist, she would have seriously considered checking to see if an enchantment had been placed upon the island which was affecting its flow. Because the last week had passed the unicorn by in the blink of an eye, while also lasting for seventeen consecutive eternities. The first eternity of monotonous unending torment had been inflicted upon her psyche during the second morning of Chancellor Fancy Pants’ visit, within the walls of the Griffonian Republic’s embassy. The second had been endured after lunch in the Dragon Lands embassy. Twilight knew in her soul that both of those gatherings had lasted for several painful eons; and yet she could not presently recall even a single detail about either of them. She only reasoned that she’d attended them because her day planner had those gatherings checked off and she was positive that, had she been anywhere else, she would have memories of that elsewhere. Even if she had slept through that entire day, the mare was confident that she would have recalled at least one of her dreams. Meetings, conferences, speeches, tours, and parties. A whirlwind cavalcade of official events that had been packed in as tightly as possible in order to take advantage of the chancellor’s physical presence on Harmony Fortress to the fullest; and Twilight had been at the stallion’s side throughout very nearly all of it, except for where her own duties occasionally required her to be elsewhere. Yet, in defiance of all expectations, despite being in Fancy Pants’ presence for the next best thing to the entirety of a whole week, Twilight hadn’t been able to share a meaningful conversation with the other unicorn and inquire about the details of how it was that she’d ultimately been chosen to command the first functional Harmony Fortress. She’d only managed to successfully broach the topic just once during his visit, and the stallion’s response had been a less-than-fulfilling: “You came highly recommended!” before he’d been pulled back into another discussion with a foreign delegation. Twilight hadn’t been able to extract any details regarding precisely who it was that had recommended her to the chancellor, and so she knew nothing which might help her to construct a list of likely suspects. If there was one thing in the little purple mare’s life that she hadn’t lacked for, it was letters of recommendation. Professors, senior officers, librarians…plenty of ponies were willing to vouch for Twilight's competency and character. But that was just the thing: “plenty of ponies…” "Iasking the right creatures" The pink earth pony’s cryptic message suggested that there had been an individual who wasn’t a pony who might have the answers she was after, but that didn't make any sense. Twilight hadn't even formally met any non-ponies of any real note prior to arriving on the island. So unless that one kirin exchange student Twilight had helped to source some asbestos blankets in her sophomore year had turned out to be a highly-placed political figure with a keen interest in Twilight’s not-then-existent military career… As Colonel Twilight Sparkle watched the Fleur De Lis’ topgallants finally vanish beyond the curve of the horizon, the little purple unicorn let out a final defeated sigh. It looked like she was going to have to content herself with drafting a letter to the chancellor and hope that Fancy Pants was willing to divulge more details in a response. Or she could try to get a word in edgewise the next time that pink baker made an appearance. She was less convinced that she’d be able to get answers that way. If the earth pony had had those answers, then surely she’d have just provided them in her note. Right? Or was it that the mare simply derived more entertainment from seeing Twilight’s visible frustration? …It could very likely be the latter. With ‘Equestria One’ no longer in sight, Twilight allowed her attention to drift to the only other visible ship that suggested it was worthy of note at the moment. At least where her own duties on Harmony were concerned. A paddle-steamer flying the flag of the Griffonian Republic just above a pennant which marked it as an official diplomatic courier, was on its final approach to the Mission Docks. No doubt she would be hearing about the news that it was bringing during tomorrow’s Council meeting. The wider world had not seen fit to sit idly by and maintain the status quo while Fancy Pants had been visiting Harmony. Twilight’s morning briefings with her staff had contained periodic updates regarding the mounting hostilities between the griffons and the dragons. The latter had been rapidly building up and fortifying Rock Haven Island. What had once been a hatching ground for the dragons in ages past was now being repurposed into a clear launching point for future seizures of nearby islands that were still held by the Republic. The only real question that Twilight had at this point was whether or not Ember was going to bother throwing together any more pretexts for those invasions beyond: “we want them, and we finally have the means to seize them”. Honestly, it had reached the point where the unicorn would have respected the blunt candor of the dragons simply coming out and announcing that they intended to annex every island in the Scaly Archipelago because they regarded the region as their rightful ancestral territory. It would have perhaps been more realpolitik than most seasoned diplomats wanted to pretend they were, but there would have been a refreshing directness to it that Twilight was finding she missed. In the military, written orders were always very plain and direct. They articulated exactly what the objectives were, how they were to be achieved, where the operation was to take place, and who was supposed to perform each specific part of it. Those versions of the orders that were disseminated at the higher echelons even outlined the reasoning and specific intent behind the drafting of the order. Everything was spelled out in exacting detail, and there was never any underlying motive that was going unspoken. Diplomacy was…nothing like that, in Twilight’s experience thus far. The more she read of the theory behind it in her books, the more clear that became. But, as much as the unicorn might not particularly like how the posturing during negotiations was conducted, she was slowly becoming adept at understanding it. Ember didn’t want to come right out and blatantly acknowledge that the goal of the Dragon Lands was to ultimately annex all of their ancestral islands because that would have been tantamount to a declaration of war against the Griffonian Republic, who presently exercised de facto—and they’d argue de jure—control over many of those islands. For the moment, the griffons were mostly preoccupied with using their military to molest their other neighbors. That would change if the dragons laid their intentions out in the open. The Republic would almost certainly immediately abandon all of their machinations elsewhere in order to concentrate their forces on countering the dragons’ aggression. If for no other reason than because it would offer them an opportunity to reoccupy the entirety of the Scaly Archipelago if they emerged victorious. Ember might be inclined to disagree, but Twilight couldn’t help but feel that the dragons were only making as much headway as they were in their operations simply because they were putting the entirety of military up against far-flung nominal anti-marauding garrisons that weren’t being supported by the Republic's naval fleets. So far, there hadn’t been any direct confrontations between the navies of the griffons and the dragons. The unicorn was less certain than the ambassador seemed to be about how well an actual battle would go for the dragons. Although it certainly didn’t look like there was going to be one any time soon. If Equestria’s information sources were to be believed, then the Republic didn’t appear to be doing much to counter the military build-up on Rock Haven Island. A small flotilla of griffon ships had been cobbled together in the region and dispatched towards the archipelago, but most of them were reportedly troop transports. There were a few smaller warships that would serve well as escorts for those transports, but certainly nothing that would be able to meaningfully assist in any sort of assault against a fortified and dug-in defender. Twilight assumed that they were intended as additional garrisons for some of the Republic’s other island holdings in the region. She just hoped that those ships left those islands carrying as many civilians as possible away from the potential fighting. In her estimation, unless and until the Republic chose to cut their losses with the kirin and the hippogriffs and redistribute their warships, they were going to continue to lose territory to the dragons. Frankly, given some of Ember’s comments during the function that she’d hosted for Fancy Pants, it had sounded to Twilight like Dragon Lord Torch was interested in setting up some additional ‘depth’ around their islands after they’d finished reclaiming the entirety of their ancestral lands. Depth which included at least one island that the Republic had held for the better part of five hundred years; and that no dragon had ever set claw on in the recorded history of any race. Twilight wasn’t sure how the dragons intended to frame any sort of justification for such an operation. Though maybe that was the point when the dragons would stop bothering to obfuscate their intentions and simply submit their formal declaration of war against the Republic, intended to do to the griffons what was done to them. The small purple mare heaved a despondent sigh and turned away from the observation deck’s railing, returning to The Citadel’s interior. Now was as good a time as any to work on that letter to the chancellor. Colonel Twilight Sparkle didn’t know everything. The little purple unicorn knew a lot, thanks to her many years spent pursuing higher education; but there was a lot that she didn’t know. If anything, her rough decade spent in academia had taught her far more about how much she didn’t know. If only because it had allowed her to glimpse the true vastness that was the sum total knowledge accumulated by all of the creatures of the world across their respective recorded histories. Twilight was only one mare and she only had one life to live. That math wasn’t hard to work out: she simply didn’t have enough time to learn everything. Even so, she didn’t let that objective impossibility disillusion her desire to learn all that she could with the time that she did have. Even if much of that learning took place in ‘less formal’ settings. Having a diploma from an accredited institution which certified her expertise on a subject was nice; but there wasn’t much point in acquiring those diplomas for subjects that she didn’t seek to pursue professions in. Twilight wasn’t going to make a career out of being a diplomat. So she had no intentions of pursuing degrees in political science, communications, equinities, psychology, behavioral science, or law, in order to make her a more effective negotiator. Which wasn’t to say that she intended to learn nothing about how to be good at her job. She was reading treatises on those subjects written by every renowned academic expert that she could get her hooves on—regardless of the author’s species—as well as several memoirs and a few core textbooks associated with those aforementioned degree paths. The mare doubted that she’d learn everything there was to know about being a good diplomat before her tenure as Harmony Six’s commanding officer came to an end in a couple years, but she believed that she could learn enough. There was quite a bit to be said for the efficacy of ‘on the job training’. Her military career had prepared her for that much. The cold reality of military service was that it took a lot of time to train somepony to be an expert at their assigned task. Service contracts were often for only a few years. Every additional month spent keeping a soldier in a training environment was a month that the soldier wasn’t actually doing that job, and it was one less month that they would have to do that job before finishing their contract and leaving the service. It was more cost-effective—and time-efficient—to teach a soldier just enough about what their specific job was to keep them from being a liability and then toss them into their duty, hoping that they might achieve something approaching ‘expertise’ as they floundered along. That was more or less how things had gone with Twilight’s assignment to Harmony: her career up to that point had taught her the management skills necessary to run a command on the island’s scale, and she possessed sufficient decorum to—hypothetically—not utterly embarrass herself during a Council meeting. The rest she would learn as she went. As it turned out, picking up the procedural aspects of diplomacy had been rather easy. After all, there were all sorts of protocols and policies related to official negotiations which had been written down. All Twilight had had to do was read them and apply them the way she’d been applying Cavalry Regulations her whole career. Dealing with the other representatives had been the trickier part. Equestria possessed dossiers on nearly all of the diplomats and ambassadors that the other nations had sent to Harmony Six which detailed what was known about their careers and personal histories. It had provided Twilight with at least some insight into who she would be negotiating with. But those dossiers had hardly been anything like manuals. Twilight couldn’t have known how any given representative would vote on a proposal or react to the wording of any given resolution put before the Council. She could guess, based on specific information that she was provided with prior to resolutions being put on the docket, but that wasn’t the same as knowing. It left far more variables at play than the unicorn generally liked dealing with. However, Twilight had managed to gain some additional knowledge about the creatures that she was working with in Council meetings during her few months on Harmony Fortress as a result of her ‘on the job training’ which hadn’t been presented to her in an intelligence brief. For example: she had learned that the Mulan ambassador brought coffee to meetings when his government had sent instructions for him to vote against his personal preferences. He liked his drink to match his mood. If the Kirean ambassadors weren’t actively smoking just a little bit, then they weren’t actually as upset by a proposal as their loud blustering might otherwise suggest. With diamond dogs, Twilight looked at their tails. For Saddle Arabians, she listened for whether the delegates used the high-formal or low-formal honorifics when commenting on proposals put forward by another nation to judge whether they actually supported the measure or were simply paying lip-service for the sake of appearances. In a lot of ways, it was like looking for ‘tells’ at a poker game. Though the fact that the ‘chips’ in this particular ‘pot’ were the livelihoods and wellbeing of millions of creatures across the world rendered the ‘game’ analogy far less amusing for the unicorn… Colonel Twilight Sparkle didn’t know everything; but she knew enough to be able to identify what most of the representatives’ various moods would herald during a meeting. Case in point: when Ambassador Gilda of the Griffonian Republic walked into the Council chamber with a broad smile on her beak and a lively bounce in her step, Twilight knew that her day was about to take a thoroughly unpleasant turn. The known list of things which brought the griffon ambassador the currently displayed level of joy was a short one, and the unicorn didn’t particularly care for any of the items on it. The little purple mare’s gaze darted reflexively towards Ambassador Ember. While not everything in the griffon representative’s world actually revolved around the dragons, it was often the safest bet to at least make that initial assumption. According to Major Rarity, there was a thin line between love and hate; and her XO occasionally attempted to lighten the mood during discussions about the two ambassadors by suggesting that, under different circumstances, the two belligerents’ actions might actually have been covering up for a shared intense carnal desire for one another. The look that Ember was shooting at her griffon counterpart at the moment was indeed ‘intense’. And while Twilight didn't note any of the usual indications of amorous intent in the dragoness' gaze, the unicorn was aware of several species of animal which existed where that sort of look might indeed herald a desire for a certain kind of sexual relation. She had once witnessed a snake performing an act of sexual cannibalism during the war. “Colonel Sparkle!” Ambassador Gilda greeted as she plopped herself down comfortably at the chamber’s main table. “How how you been since the party? Trendy Pants make it back to Equestria yet?” She reclined languidly in her seat. The hen’s satisfied smile put Twilight in mind of the expression: ‘like the cat who’d caught the canary’, and briefly wondered if the griffons possessed a similar metaphor. The unicorn couldn’t imagine that they used the version ponies did, given their dual feline-avian nature, but she was hesitant to ask lest she come off as sounding…impolotique. “Fancy Pants,” Twilight lightly corrected the griffon on reflex. “And it’s only been three days since he left; it’ll still be some time before his ship reaches Equestria.” The unicorn noted that other representatives were still filing into the room, so there would still be a little more time before their day’s deliberations began. Time enough for her to try and get a reason for the Republic ambassador’s uncharacteristically good mood…and an idea of how bad of a taste it was going to leave in her mouth later. “You seem to be in high spirits, ambassador. Good news from home?” Twilight recalled the courier ship which had docked the other day. “Great news, actually!” Gilda confirmed, all but purring as she spoke. Her golden eyes sparkled as they darted in Ember’s direction. “And I just can’t wait to share it with all of you… “—In fact!” The griffon sat up and reached into her satchel, withdrawing a small roll of parchment and extending it towards Twilight in her talons. “I’d like to amend today’s proceedings with some new business. “I know it’s late notice,” Gilda acknowledged with what was an objectively appropriate amount of deference in her tone—but was a previously unheard of quantity for the griffon, “but I wanted to confirm a few details with my government and make certain that everything was in order before it was made official.” Twilight hesitated for a moment before finally lighting her horn and accepting the scroll. This display of decorum from the usually much more abrasive ambassador was…disconcerting, if she was being honest. She unfurled the parchment and scanned its contents. It was a formal request to reserve the first fifteen minutes of the day’s deliberations in order to: ‘deliver a formal announcement’. Exactly what it was that Gilda wanted to announce wasn’t specified, but that wasn’t unusual in and of itself with these sorts of requests. Frankly, the only ‘unusual’ aspect of any of this was that Ambassador Gilda was giving official notice at all. Her typical modus operandi for delivering her ‘announcements’—formal or otherwise—during a Council meeting was to simply yell them out whenever the mood struck her. As hesitant as Twilight was to cede Gilda the floor at the very opening of deliberations, the unicorn understood enough psychology to recognize that the spontaneous demonstration of correct behavior in a usually disruptive individual shouldn't be discouraged. Rewarding correct behavior typically led to further correct behavior. If the Republic’s ambassador was actually going to go through the effort of drafting formal requests and abide by the proper protocols for offering her statements to the Council, then Twilight wasn’t going to risk curtailing this positive change in demeanor by rebuking the griffon just because the request was being made a little later than was strictly preferred. Besides, what harm could Gilda realistically accomplish with fifteen minutes of talking? “Very well, ambassador,” the unicorn said as her magic rolled the scroll back up and floated it over to her other notes on the table, “the first fifteen minutes will be yours.” “Sweet! This is going to be good.” Once more, the griffon’s eyes lingered on the silently fuming Ambassador Ember. Twilight instantly regretted everything that she had thought and said over the last two minutes. But…she had made her assurances already, and so she was committed to the mistake. Mentally, the unicorn resolved that, should she ever give the griffon the benefit of the doubt again, she should probably be committed. After all, repeating a mistake in the desperate hope of seeing it result differently was a sign of insanity… The little purple unicorn took her seat beside Ambassadors Zecora and Celestia and took a deep, cleansing, breath. Whatever Ambassador Gilda had to say would simply have to be weathered. Fortunately, there wasn’t much that the mare could think of that the Republic could do that would be too disruptive to the world at large—certainly when compared to what they were already doing. More than likely, the griffon just intended to make some threats or deliver some sort of ultimatum that was intended to leverage more of their neighbors for concessions. Twilight resigned herself to spending the better part of the next hour slamming her hoof on the table to restore order to the chamber, but that wouldn’t be too far removed from how she spent most of these sessions, to be honest. After the last of the expected representatives finally shuffled in and took their seats Twilight Sparkle cleared her throat. “Good morning, everycreature; I’ll now call this session to order.” She tapped her hoof smartly on the stained marble block in front of her that was present for that purpose. “I will start by announcing a slight change to the day’s docket. “Ambassador Gilda has formally requested the first fifteen minutes of today’s meeting in order to deliver a formal announcement on behalf of the Griffonian Republic.” The reaction from the other delegates was a mixture of surprise which mirrored Twilight’s own—that Gilda would have bothered with making a formal request at all—and general unease. The Republic rarely announced anything that other creatures liked. “Ambassador, the floor is yours,” the unicorn stated, managing to keep most of the dread out of her tone. “Thank you, Colonel!” The gold and ivory griffon stood up from her seat, her beak spread in a wide grin as her eyes slid across the room. “I would actually like to start off by asking a question.” Her gaze settled on the azure dragoness sitting—and glaring—across from her. “Ambassador Ember…” Her talons reached back into her satchel and withdrew another scroll. She held it up for all to see. “...This is a letter from my government, thanking the dragons for ‘looking after’ Ragnar Island for the Republic…” The griffon hen’s sickly sweet smile dropped away in an instant, falling into a scowl before she tossed the scroll at the dragoness. Ember made no effort to catch the roll of parchment as it sailed past her and fell to the floor. “...Your dragons there have three days to leave. Our citizens are returning to their homes there.” Ambassador Ember pursed her lips now, narrowing her eyes at the griffon as she studied the hen’s features. There was a brief moment of uncertainty—brief enough that Twilight wasn’t convinced that she’d actually seen it at first—but then the dragoness’ features firmed up and she resumed glaring at the griffon. “...No.” Gilda’s scowl was gone. She wasn’t smiling again—not quite—but the corner of her beak had turned up into a smirk that concerned Twilight. “‘No’? I thought you dragons agreed that you’d leave Ragnar Island if and when the Republic asked you to?” “It’s been months and the Republic hasn’t shown any interest in returning to the island,” Ember replied evenly. “The Dragon Lands actually have some pretty liberal adverse possession laws. Under the provisions of our legal code, Ragnar Island was officially recognized as ‘abandoned’ several weeks ago. “So we annexed it,” Ember stated with a shrug of her folded arms. “I can draft a formal proclamation to that effect if you really want one.” Twilight Sparkle braced herself for an outraged tirade on the part of the griffon. Instead, something far more unsettling happened: Gilda smiled again. The Republic ambassador reached back into her satchel again and took out a third bound scroll. This one she tossed at Twilight, who deftly caught it in her magic. The unicorn was in the process of unfurling it when Gilda revealed its contents to the whole Council, all the while wearing a satisfied smile on her face. “Well, under our laws, the Republic still sees both Ragnar Island and Rock Haven Island as our sovereign territory. We made a formal—diplomatic—request for it to be peacefully returned to us,” she gestured in the direction of the scroll laying on the floor that Ember had refused to accept, “and that request was refused. “This illegitimate annexation of Republic territory will not be tolerated by my government,” Gilda continued, “and we regard it as a hostile act, as well as a de facto ‘act of war’ on the part of the dragons.” The griffon’s words had grown progressively sharper and colder as she spoke. Yet there was an unmistakable quality of satisfaction to them. Gilda had been hoping that things would go this way. Twilight Sparkle finished reading the contents of the scroll floating in front of her, and felt a cold lump form in the pit of her stomach. Beside her, Ambassadors Zecora and Celestia each craned their heads in order to glance at what the parchment said. The unicorn adjusted it so that the two of them could share in her horror. The rest of the room’s delegates were clued into the scroll’s contents by the griffon’s next words: “The Griffonian Republic is left with no other recourse but to formally declare war on the Dragon Lands.” Unsurprisingly, every delegate in the chamber had something to say about that, and they all strived to say it at the same time, and at a preemptively higher volume than whatever their neighbors might attempt to achieve. The large room was very quickly filled with an unintelligible din that persisted for several ear-splitting seconds before Twilight was even aware of it. The unicorn was still mentally reeling from hearing the scroll’s words uttered aloud. “Or—order…Order!” The little purple unicorn finally managed to stammer out, eventually even achieving a volume with both shouted word and stomping hoof that overcame the cacophony and reached enough ears to begin settling down the other delegates. “You’re not serious?” Ambassador Ember said, once the room had quieted enough for her to be heard clearly. The dragoness was staring incredulously at her Republic counterpart. Her lip pulled back into a slightly bemused smile. “Your navy isn’t anywhere near our islands.” Twilight doubted that anycreature missed the stressing of the possessive. “Meanwhile, our forces—” “—Aren’t at Rock Haven Island anymore.” Gilda cut off the dragon with a light chuckle which belied no actual mirth. “At least, there were no dragons there to oppose our forces when they landed on the island five days ago.” Ember’s jaw slammed shut with an audible sound. Her eyes briefly widened in shock, before then narrowing at the griffon, her lip pulling back into a sneer. “You launched a surprise attack on our—?!” “We didn’t attack anything,” Gilda cut the other ambassador off again, flicking her talons dismissively at Ember’s assumption. “Until just now, there wasn’t a formal declaration of war,” Gilda waved at the scroll that Twilight still held aloft in her magic, “any sort of actual attack by our forces would have violated several international agreements. “The Republic is a civilized nation that honors the treaties it signs.” If Gilda heard the indignant mutterings from the delegates representing the nations that the Republic was currently harassing, she gave no visible sign. “One of our scouts flying by the area noticed that none of your ships or garrisons were on Rock Haven anymore. We assumed you pulled them back home, and moved our soldiers back onto our island.” She leaned forward and grinned at the dragoness. “We didn’t have to fire a shot.” “You’re lying.” There was the faintest hint of a tremble in the dragoness’ words. The assertion being made by the griffon ambassador was so outrageous on the face of it, that it seemed as though the hen had to be lying. But…if she wasn’t… Twilight could see on Ember’s face that the ambassador for the Dragon Lands was weighing all of the same information that the unicorn herself was. Both of them likely possessed very similar intelligence reports with regards to the disposition of the Republic’s forces. If anything, the dragons possessed far more information, given their closer proximity and likely active efforts to monitor griffon fleet movements in the area. In any case, both of them knew that the griffons couldn’t have taken Rock Haven Island by force. The dragons on the island were too numerous and too well fortified, and the griffons’ larger fleets were occupied elsewhere. Twilight recalled the report she’d seen about the Republic troop transport ships heading for the archipelago. The timing lined up well enough that they could have landed at Rock Haven Island when Gilda said they had. The unicorn also knew that the fleet she’d seen the report about couldn’t have dislodged the dragon garrison being built up there. Any fleet big enough would have been hard-pressed to travel unseen over such a vast distance too. The griffons couldn’t have forcibly occupied the island. So, either Gilda was lying—and Twilight couldn’t even begin to conceive of what the ambassador would gain by doing so—or the dragon garrison really hadn’t been there when the Republic’s transports arrived. Which Twilight also couldn’t think of a good explanation for why that would have been the case. Rock Haven Island was too strategically important for the dragons to have abandoned it without a really good reason. “Heh, think what you want.” Gilda shrugged and finally sat back down in her seat. “You lizards living in denial is only going to help us in the short run. It’ll keep you from realizing that you should already be surrendering to us right now. “The longer you morons fight, the more of you will die in this war.” Gilda’s smile was predatory now. “Which means more dragonhide for our tanners to make handbags out of—” “Ambassador,” Twilight numbly warned. A declaration of war may have just been made, but that was no reason to let Gilda devolve into antagonistic threats with what remained of her time. The unicorn put away the scroll containing the declaration of war, and was idly working out how to word her report on its contents to her superiors back in Canterlot. “Yeah, yeah; fine,” the Republic ambassador waved away the unicorn’s admonition, her eyes never leaving Ember’s. “I guess all I’ve got left to say is this: Are you lizards willing to surrender now, or are you really going to make the Republic spend valuable time and ammunition slaughtering all of you until you finally wise up and give in?” The daughter of the reigning dragon lord shot up in her seat. There was a moment where Twilight feared that she’d have to grab the dragoness with her magic to keep the azure ambassador from leaping across the table to attack Gilda. But, fortunately, Ember managed—somehow—to restrict herself to merely snarling and pointing. “We beat you turkeys once; we’ll do it again!” The Ambassador to the Dragon Lands snarled at her Republic counterpart. “You go ahead and keep thinking that,” Gilda chided, snickering at the dragoness. “By this time next year, I’ll be picking out a spot on your islands for my new summer roost.” “Over my dead body!” Ember snapped. The griffon hen’s smile turned Twilight’s stomach. As did the ambassador’s reaction to the dragoness’ defiance. It started as a snicker, at first. A quivering in the griffon’s shoulders that soon spread to her chest. Soon the spasms spread throughout the griffon hen’s whole body. Her beak split, emitting a screeching, mirthful, laugh that sent a shiver down the unicorn’s spine, and prompted the dragoness leering at her to pull her lips back in a furious sneer at the overtly mocking crackle coming from the griffon. “Oh, don’t worry, Ember,” Gilda wheezed, running a talon under her eye to wipe away a tear. “I wouldn’t want it any other way!” The griffon hen allowed herself to be consumed by the unapologetic belly laugh that was quickly rendering her speechless. Meanwhile, multiple other delegates in the chamber were on their feet, paws, or hooves, as they expressed their views on either the declaration of hostilities, the implicit threat made by one ambassador towards another, or both. Twilight’s pounding hoof on the marble slab was having minimal effect on muting the rising din of voices. The world was going mad, and in that moment, nocreature particularly cared about what one little purple unicorn was trying to accomplish. Two—unproductive—hours later saw Colonel Twilight Sparkle sitting in her office writing up the dispatch that would need to be sent back to Equestria informing them of the state of war that now existed between the Griffonian Republic and the Dragon Lands. This report was important enough that it was going to be sent out via pegasus courier, and so the Equestrian government should have plenty of time to put measures in place to modulate the unrest the news would generate among the populace. While this wasn’t a war that directly involved Equestria—yet—that didn’t mean that the hostilities wouldn’t affect ponies. Families would be concerned for relatives living or working overseas. Businesses and customers alike would want to know how the war would affect the prices of ware coming from or through those two nations, to say nothing of the goods being shipped through the regions where the fighting would be taking place. Privateering was a quite common practice after all. Freight shipping was a complicated business. While—in theory—only griffon and dragon ships should be at risk, the reality was that what counted as a ‘griffon’ or ‘dragon’ ship could get murky. Ships were expensive. Not every shipping company actually owned any vessels themselves. They’d lease them. So: did a ship owned by a Republic company, but being leased by an Equestrian one, constitute fair game for dragon naval ships or privateers? What about a pony-owned and crewed ship under contract with the dragons? Would the griffons attack them? A Republic-built ship, carrying a Saddle Arabian cargo, crewed by ponies; were they a legitimate target? The first casualty in a war was the truth. Such as the ‘truth’ about who truly were bona fide legitimate targets for raiding and seizure by both belligerents. Equestria could try to put as many escorting cruisers as possible alongside any shipping that they considered to be ‘theirs’ in an effort to dissuade commerce raiding. Theoretically, just the presence of an Equestrian-flagged warship should be enough to put off griffon or dragon ships, as neither side would be keen on making an enemy out of a neutral nation. Twilight intended to talk with Ambassador Zecora and see if the zebras could make any of their much faster cruisers available as as-needed escorts for the commercial shipping of races that lacked any robust navies of their own, in order to help safeguard their own shipping that might be skirting those blurred lines of ‘legitimate target’. Twilight had already had a talk with Captain Applejack about the need for additional patrols and an increased presence on the island, especially near griffon and dragon-owned shops and neighborhoods. Tensions between the two had been high even at the best of times. The unicorn fully expected things to get—as the orange mare had so eloquently understated things: ‘downraight uncivil’ in the next couple of days as word of the war fully spread among the residents of the involved nations. A few months ago, Twilight would never have imagined that she’d be thankful that the griffons and dragons living on Harmony had segregated themselves as a consequence of their shared animosity. But that self-imposed isolation from one another was doubtlessly going to greatly reduce the potential for spontaneous fights breaking out between residents. It wouldn’t negate it completely, but the fact that griffons and dragons wouldn’t be around each other in large numbers for prolonged periods of time would mitigate the violence that Applejack was sure they’d see in the coming weeks and months. Twilight didn’t doubt her head of security. Harmony Six’s commander was giving serious thought to the merits and detractions of imposing Martial Law on the island. At least for a few weeks; if only to preemptively ensure order in the fortress as the war got underway. She would discuss it with her staff during their evening meeting. A hoof rapped on her office door. “Enter,” Twilight called out, loud enough to be heard through the thick oak. A mare’s gray head cautiously poked in through the doorway. A few stray wisps of blonde mane had escaped the flight cap covering most of her head. Amber eyes which didn’t fully align with one another briefly glanced about the office before they—or, at least one of them—finally fell on Twilight at her desk. At that point, the mare smiled and entered the rest of the way, revealing herself to be an official courier. “You’re early,” the little purple unicorn noted with audible approval. A few minutes to one side or the other would hardly make a difference when one considered that the flight from the island to Equestria was the better part of a day and a half, but punctuality was something the fortress’ commander would always appreciate. The quill clutched in her telekinesis resumed darting across the parchment. “I’ll have the report ready to go out in a few more minutes.” The pegasus cocked her head in mild confusion as she approached. “Um…I’m actually here to make a delivery, ma’am,” the courier said. It was only then that the unicorn noticed the paper-wrapped box balanced on the mare’s back. “Oh. Well, thank you.” Twilight split her magic and snatched the package off the courier’s back, floating it over to her desk. “I wasn’t expecting anything. Who’s it from? There’s no note,” she observed as her telekinesis deftly undid the bow knot and started to shed the wrapping. “That? Oh, I don’t know,” the pegasus answered, even as she turned her head and ducked her head into her saddlebag. “Some mare hurr ber mur ur…” Whatever else the courier had tried to say was too muffled by her bag to make out. Twilight frowned. An official courier should have known exactly who it was that sent the package, as enlisting one required filling out a detailed form which listed the sender, the recipient, and the contents. She supposed it was possible that this pegasus simply hadn’t paid all that close attention to the form, but she should still have had it on her. Presumably the gray mare was fetching it now so that Twilight could sign for the delivery. She finally finished revealing the contents of the package. One of her eyebrows rose up in mild interest. Honestly, the sight of the cupcakes wasn’t as surprising as it probably should have been—Twilight was getting used to being gifted baked goods. She even had some idea regarding the sender, and was very curious to get a look at the delivery receipt to see what it contained under ‘Name’. However, the decorations of these cupcakes were considerably more subdued than what she was used to seeing from her usual benefactor. Black and white were traditional mourning colors, and the pink earth pony baker was typically far more festive when coloring her pastries. Had she recently suffered a loss? “Here, ma’am; this is for you.” Twilight looked up from the open container of cupcakes and saw that the pegasus was offering her a delivery receipt…and a letter bearing the seal of the Office of the Chancellor of Equestria. She spent several moments blinking at the letter in mild shock. Were the cupcakes from Fancy Pants somehow? Why would he be sending her condolence pastries? A few possible—though soundly absurd—possibilities offered themselves to the purple unicorn, but she swiftly discounted them out of hoof. The answer was literally being hoofed over to her; there was no need for idle speculation. “Thank you.” Twilight swiftly signed the receipt, noting that the ‘Sender’ was listed as Neighsay, but once more didn’t think on that too much. She herself often delegated simple tasks to Rarity. She took the letter, broke the seal, and started reading it. The unicorn made it two sentences before she had to stop. A part of her mind absently noted that it was a good thing that she’d already been sitting down. Twilight looked over those first sentences again to ensure that she hadn’t somehow grossly misread them. Then, with a hollow feeling in her chest, she continued reading further. There weren’t many details. That was understandable. This was hardly a formal detailed report on the matter; more of an ‘For Your Information’ memorandum. And Twilight had likely only gotten it this way, instead of through official channels, simply because the Fleur De Lis was still so close to the island. It was possibly even in response to the letter that she’d sent to the chancellor, so that Twilight understood why she wasn’t going to get a response to her questions. Ever. Former chancellor, a part of Twilight’s mind further amended. Fancy Pants was dead. If there was any consolation to be had, it was that the letter indicated that the stallion had passed away in his sleep. His personal physician had listed the cause of death as heart failure. An unexpected revelation, given the chancellor’s age, physical appearance, and his general demeanor while he’d been on the island. But he would hardly have been the first outwardly-fit pony to suffer a sudden and lethal cardiac event out of seemingly nowhere. Anecdotes abounded of healthy ponies who went on daily morning trots collapsing one day during their regular runs through town. Heart attacks happened. And now one had happened to the—former—Chancellor of Equestria. He could have picked a better time to drop dead, Twilight thought darkly to herself. The ponies of Equestria were going to be stressed enough as it was, thanks to the war, without also having to deal with a sudden transition at the highest level of government. A more selfish part of Twilight’s mind lamented that she was probably not going to get an answer to her appointment question now. “Well, it was nice of them to send cupcakes along with the bad news,” Twilight remarked, offering a sardonic smile to the courier mare. The gray pegasus blinked in confusion. “Oh, no, ma’am; the cupcakes aren’t related to the letter,” she explained. “Somepony gave them to me when I landed. She said something about sensing that you’d need them right now.” …Or maybe Twilight’s initial guess as to who’d provided the baked goods had been correct after all. “An earth pony? Pink mare? Really pink mare?” “Yes, ma’am; that’s the one.” “I don’t suppose you got her name?” “Sorry, ma’am; I didn’t think to ask. The way she spoke, it sounded like you two knew each other,” the pegasus said with an apologetic note in her voice. Twilight closed her eyes and let out a deep sigh. Then some realized something else that the courier had said which had almost slipped by unnoticed. “...You said that this mare was there when you landed?” “Yes, ma’am.” “I assume you landed on one of the lookouts? High up on the Citadel main tower?” That was where most couriers tended to land, as it saved those pegasi the trouble of having to walk back up several flights of stairs. “Yes, ma’am.” Which meant that the pink mare had gotten inside the Citadel. The—theoretically—most secure structure on the whole island. Aside from perhaps the armory— Twilight’s magic seized her quill and jotted down a quick note as she had the horrifying thought. She wasn’t sure exactly how many more guards she was going to make Applejack assign to the fort’s magazines, but in light of this recent revelation the little purple unicorn was going to try to make a case for ‘all of them’. She then put down the quill, touched her hoof to her chest, and slowly let out the breath that she’d only just realized she’d been holding since realizing the security of the tower had apparently been so casually compromised. To say nothing of the apparent reason for the compromise! A couple of weeks ago, Twilight would have been climbing the walls of her office trying to figure out how that mare could possibly have known to send sympathy cupcakes along with news of Fancy Pants’ death, when the news of said death could only have arrived after the mare had baked the cupcakes! …Unless the baker simply kept a wide array of freshly-baked cupcakes on hoof in order to account for any and all possible events that might occur on any given day? That sounded like it was likely to get expensive quickly. The mare might be privately wealthy, Twilight supposed—she certainly acted eccentric enough to be wealthy. Maybe she consulted some sort of personally compiled almanac? Twilight was aware that races which couldn’t employ weather-control pegasi to regulate their rainfall were actually able to make fairly reliable predictions for upcoming temperatures and storms by collecting data from previous decades and creating predictive models based on trends. Could something similar be done for major world events? There would be a lot of variables that needed to be accounted for, certainly, but if a model could be formulated— Twilight shook her head to dislodged the distraction, though she did jot down another note for later. There was too much going on right now for her to get lost in collating data and deriving equations to help her spot trends in major events. Two of the world’s major powers had gone to war—and nocreature yet knew how many more nations would end up getting dragged into it—and now Equestria’s chancellor was dead. Twilight let out a resigned sigh. “...Do you want a cupcake?” She nudged the box towards the gray pegasus. “Oh, no thank you, ma’am. Too sweet for my tastes. I prefer muffins.” The unicorn checked the contents of the box once more, half expecting to find that she’d somehow missed spotting a muffin in the mix intended for the delivery pony. When she failed to find one, Twilight actually felt a measure of grim satisfaction that the mysterious pink baker pony wasn’t, in fact, completely omniscient. She’d managed to anticipate the death of the chancellor—somehow—but hadn’t accounted for the food preferences of the specific courier who would be tasked with delivering the news of his death to Harmony. As far as ‘victories’ went, it wasn’t the most hollow that Twilight felt she’d ever experienced— —Zebras hadn’t been the only creatures in White Tail when Twilight— —but it was higher on her list than she cared to admit. The courier dipped a wing into her saddlebag and withdrew a muffin, showing it to Twilight. “But don’t worry, that same mare already gave me some!” She announced. “They’re banana-nut too; my favorite!” Colonel Twilight Sparkle’s frustrated scream was only mostly internal. Author's Note She probably keeps boxes of them stashed all over the island; for cupcake emergencies. As always, a thumbs up and comment are greatly appreciated If you like the cover art and want to see more stories get them, I've set up a Cover Art Fund if you're interested and have any bits lying around! Chapter 12: Interludes and ExaminationsAs a general rule, Colonel Twilight Sparkle didn’t ‘do’ spas. It wasn’t that she had any particular principled aversion to them or the services that they provided. She simply preferred other means of relaxation when she felt the need to relieve mounting stress. Typically, this relaxation came in the form of reading or study. The unicorn attempted to distract herself by occupying her mind with something novel. This method of stress-reduction possessed the added benefit of allowing her to acquire new knowledge or skills. Which meant that, not only were the little purple unicorn’s thoughts no longer mired with whatever it was that had been preoccupying her before, but she’d also bettered herself as an individual. For many years now, that approach to relaxation had worked more or less flawlessly. There was only the slightest hitch in the mare’s gait as she briefly pondered—and not for the first time—how many of her degrees were essentially physical manifestations of her stress that she wore like badges of honor. The last time Twilight had thought for too long about how healthy that ultimately was, she’d wound up with a minor in chemistry. While relaxing with a good book was generally how the little purple unicorn recentered herself, she’d met with considerably less success than usual since yesterday. Try as she might, Twilight hadn’t been able to keep her attention focused on the contents of the book she was trying to read. Her thoughts refused to abandon the nascent war that had broken out, as well as the probable ramifications of Fancy Pants’ death. The little purple unicorn had eventually concluded that the principal issue had come down to one of environment: her surroundings kept reminding her of the very stressors that she was attempting to dispel. Her quarters, her office, the ships moving around the island, the mere sight of The Citadel looming over everything… Twilight couldn’t look at any of them and not think about how Harmony Six was going to be affected. …How it represented the ultimate failure of the fortress’—and her own—primary mission. A change of scenery was in order, and that wasn’t nearly as easy to achieve as it sounded when one considered that Harmony was actually a rather small island when one got right down to it. At only two miles in length and at just over a mile across at its widest point, Harmony possessed less land area than even most of Equestria’s smaller towns. It was possible to see nearly every other part of the island from just about anywhere with even a moderately high perch. So coming up with a list of places that she could go on the island that would provide for truly novel scenery had been an initially daunting task. But, as Twilight didn’t ‘do’ spas, she reasoned that visiting one might provide her senses with just enough unfamiliar sights and sensations to help distract her thoughts from her present troubles. There were quite a few spas on the island actually. More than one might have guessed after being told how small the fortress was, certainly. It helped that the island was rather densely populated for its size, but the inflated number of spas was almost influenced by the wide variety of creatures which resided on the island, many of whom had differing needs or expectations when it came to what helped them to relax or feel rejuvenated. Some of these preferences were also mutually exclusive, which made it nigh-impossible for any single establishments to cater to all needs simultaneously. Dragons, for example, felt most at ease while lounging in a pool of actual lava while breathing in air that was saturated with sulfur dioxide. That particular gas was exceptionally lethal to most other species, even in small quantities, which would have made it beyond reckless for a spa to place a room containing such gases anywhere near any place where non-dragon patrons might be. Kirin preferred places that were hot and humid. Abyssinians couldn’t stand humidity. Yaks couldn’t tolerate heat particularly well and desired places with rooms that were kept well below freezing. With such a wide range of tastes present on the island, an equally wide range of spas and parlors had opened up to service those disparate clientele. For those species which made up a larger percentage of the population—especially ponies—there were even multiple competing establishments; with one or two ultimately emerging as the ‘premiere’ choice for members of the serviced race. Among ponies, the general consensus was that the ‘La Ti Da Spa’ was where one simply had to go if they wanted to receive the most luxurious services available on the island. At least, that was the opinion which Major Rarity had expressed on multiple occasions. Twilight had yet to encounter a pony who vehemently disagreed with the assessment of her executive officer, and so had decided that if she was going to try and clear her mind with a visit to a spa, then she might as well try one which came highly recommended. Of course, being held in high regard by a majority of the island’s inhabitants also meant that a particular business’ services tended to be in equally high demand—few were those who would deliberately seek out the products or services of the second best business without a good reason. This usually meant having to schedule one’s appointment well in advance, or so Twilight had learned when she stepped in through the doors to the La Ti Da. Not having patronized a spa before, the unicorn hadn’t been aware that they functioned like high-end restaurants, with ‘walk-ins’ generally not being accommodated as a rule, if for no other reason than because many of the services offered by a spa—massages, hoof-polishing, mane styling, and so forth—required the active engagement of one of the spa’s staff members. Fortunately for the little purple mare, rank—and position—had its privileges. Twilight Sparkle was not the sort of mare who would deliberately leverage her rank in order to receive preferential treatment or personal gain—certainly not when it came to a civilian business. However, that didn’t mean that the spa’s proprietors—for the owners appeared to be twin sisters—were themselves above leveraging the unicorn’s rank for their personal gain. Appointment or no, the two earth ponies were quite keen to accommodate Twilight’s patronage; reveling in the prospective further boost that their already highly-regarded establishment would receive when they spread the word that the La Ti Da was the preferred spa of the fortress’ commander! The little purple unicorn’s protesting that a singular visit didn’t make her a ‘regular’ fell on deaf ears as the pair of pastel spa ponies eagerly—and loudly—pushed their ‘favorite client’ in the direction of one of the bathing rooms while they finished final preparations for Twilight’s ‘usual’ Executive Deluxe Package, which was apparently presently being offered at a discount to any customers who wanted to sign up for a Passion Flower Tier spa membership. A few of those in the waiting room did at least look at the brochures promoting the spa’s membership tiers from what Twilight saw before she was finally shoved deeper into the building’s interior. The proprietors spoke rather quickly in thickly accented words which Twilight didn’t catch all of before she suddenly found herself in one of the hot baths. There had been quite a bit of thanking the unicorn for choosing their spa, assurances that her experience at the La Ti Da would be the most memorable that she’d ever had, and a clipped apology that her bath wouldn’t be exclusive, and assurances that the colonel wouldn’t find the unintended company objectionable. Twilight found out what that meant when the door closed behind her, drawing the attention of the other two mares who were already lounging in the small pool of warm water. Both mares were immediately familiar to the little purple unicorn. “Colonel,” the ivory unicorn said, her sapphire eyes widening in mild surprise, “I didn’t realize you were planning on coming here today, or I would have invited you to come along with us.” She waved her hoof in the direction of her companion, and equally familiar yellow pegasus. “Apologies, but I didn’t know I was going to be here either, major,” Twilight dryly replied as her gaze darted between the two mares, lingering on the cool stare being leveled against her by the clinic’s physician. “I didn’t mean to intrude. I should just go—” “It’s not an imposition at all, colonel,” Rarity insisted. “Is it, Fluttershy?” “...It’s…fine,” came the eventual response from the pegasus, in a tone that didn’t at all convey the feeling that the doctor did, in fact, feel that the situation was ‘fine’. Twilight was briefly tempted to leave despite the assurance from her executive officer, as it was fairly evident that staying would just create an awkward tension between the three of them. On the other hoof, the unicorn supposed that—while hardly relaxing—interpersonal tension just might get her thinking about anything other than the war and instability looming on the horizon. Which was her ultimate purpose anyway. “Alright; thank you.” Twilight finally relented. She stepped over and slowly eased herself into the hot bath, keeping a respectful distance from the other two mares. A great deal of the tension melted away almost immediately upon contact with the heated water, much to Twight’s delighted surprise. The contented sigh that escaped her lips as she sank down to her withers was actually a good bit louder than she had intended, causing the purple unicorn to flush with embarrassment. Major Rarity smiled broadly at her commanding officer. “It is nice, isn’t it, colonel? I make it a point to come here once a week to help myself unwind.” “Do the two of you often come here together?” Twilight asked, looking between the two mares. “Actually, it’s usually three of us: Captain Applejack usually joins us too, but she couldn’t make it today,” the ivory mare explained. “She’s working out those revised patrol patterns in response to…recent unpleasantness.” So much for getting my mind off the war, Twilight thought bitterly to herself. She wasn’t ready to give up on that endeavor though. “If that’s the case, then maybe we can convince Captain Rainbow Dash to join in and the five of us can just conduct our daily briefings here,” the purple unicorn suggested, doing her utmost to inject as much levity as she could muster into her tone. “Oh, I wholeheartedly second that motion!” Rarity said with a chuckle, before shooting a smirk in her commander’s direction. “Though in order to get Captain Dash to join us, I think we’ll need to find a way to make the spa sound sufficiently ‘cool’,” the unicorn held up her hooves and waved them so as to appropriately bracket the last word in quotes. Twilight permitted herself a small chuckle of agreement. “It actually wouldn’t take all that much work to get her to internalize thinking that coming here was ‘cool’,” Twilight said casually. “I’ve read some books on behavioral psychology. All it would basically take is a form of exposure therapy. “If we arrange for enough other ponies around her to talk about how much they enjoy going to the spa, combined with leaving fliers for the La Ti Da laying around the flight barracks, and maybe assign her some flight patrol routes that take her over the building a couple times a day? It would take a couple of months, but after sufficiently saturating her senses with the concept of coming to the spa, she’d eventually come here of her own volition.” Fluttershy frowned. “Psychologically manipulating somepony into going someplace doesn’t sound very…nice.” “It was just a joke, doctor,” Twilight said with a sigh. “I’m actually not in the habit of casually behaviorally modifying my subordinates.” Offhoofedly, the unicorn added under her breath, “Even if there are some things about that pegasus that I’d like to change…” Rarity cleared her throat, clearly uncomfortable with the visible animosity between the other two mares. “Captain Dash does have some…abrasive qualities; but she’s a fine flier. Her squadrons are top performers when compared to other flights in Equestria. “In fact, just about all of our senior staff here on Harmony Six have exceptional records,” the ivory mare continued. “Command really did set us up for success!” “Considering our mission was to try and foster peaceful relations between the other races, it looks like we weren’t actually as set up for success as we could have been…” Doctor Fluttershy dryly pointed out. “Since it failed.” “You’ll pardon me, doctor, if I don’t give a convict’s opinion of my abilities all that much weight!” Twilight snapped at the pegasus, fixing the flier with a vitriolic glare. The bath fell immediately silent, save for the trickle of fresh hot water flowing in from the tap. Rarity’s eyes were wide, her jaw agape with visible shock as she stared at her commanding officer. Fluttershy’s expression wasn’t as easy to read, looking as close to neutral as one could get under the circumstances. The yellow pegasus mare returned Twilight’s piercing amethyst stare with her own unblinking gaze. “...I wasn’t commenting on your abilities, colonel; or your efforts,” the physician finally said in a quiet tone. “I was simply pointing out a fact. “I’m well aware that it’s possible to fail…even when you do everything you can to succeed. Every doctor is,” Fluttershy added in a more subdued tone, her eyes closing briefly. Twilight’s jaw slammed shut. It took her less than a second to review what the pegasus had said, and realize that it indeed probably hadn’t been intended as a slight towards her competence. It wasn’t like she hadn’t had essentially the same thoughts since the Council meeting. She’d just…not been in her right mind when she’d heard the physician’s. Her stress level had already been high, she’d spent most of the day analyzing everything that had happened in Council meetings between the griffons and the dragons since she’d taken command of Harmony Six, looking for anything that she could have done differently to affect the outcome. She’d been thinking that she wasn’t good enough to do the job that she’d been assigned competently. This was Twilight’s first command of an installation. On top of that, it was arguably both one of the most strategically and politically important forts that Equestria maintained. By all rights, this command should have gone to a general. Or somepony with experience running what was basically a city. A pony who’d been around diplomats and politicians for years. Somepony who was an experienced negotiator. Twilight hadn’t learned any of those things. She wasn’t ready for a command like Harmony Six. A posting this important shouldn’t have gone to somepony like her. In hindsight, it hadn’t been reasonable to believe that she’d be able to succeed. Who’d chosen her for this? What had they been thinking? …Had the plan been for her to fail all along— Now Twilight had taken out her frustrations on a pony who hadn’t earned it. Fluttershy let out a breath before turning around and raising herself out of the water. “Doctor,” Twilight began. The pegasus paused, but she didn’t turn around. “I’m sorry. That was uncalled for. I’m just—” The little purple unicorn paused, let out a quiet snort, and shook her head. She started again. “I could give you all kinds of excuses for what I’d said, but that’s all they’d be: excuses. For the inexcusable. “I shouldn’t have said what I did. It wasn’t—” Twilight hesitated when she realized what the next words out of her mouth were going to be, and who she was about to say them to. She briefly debated rephrasing, but ultimately decided to push on, albeit with an added sardonic chuckle. “...It wasn’t very nice to say. “I should be the one to leave.” Twilight rose back up onto her hooves and turned for the bath’s edge. She stopped when she heard Fluttershy speak. “But is that how you really feel, colonel? That you value me and my opinions less because I spent time in Fetlock?” The impulse that immediately jumped to the forefront of the purple unicorn’s mind was to deny it. It was how Twilight was supposed to answer that question: that the Cavalry had commuted the remainder of the physician’s sentence at the disciplinary paddock and restored her license, so Twilight should treat her debt to the Cavalry and Equestria as being ‘paid’ and give her the same regard as she would any other pony. That was the ‘correct’ answer to the question. It wouldn’t have been the truth though. She’d told enough lies since coming to Harmony Fortress though. The thought of telling another reminded her of how Captain Applejack had regarded her during the incident with the zebra marine. The security mare’s emerald eyes felt as though they had a way of drilling deeper into a pony’s very being than a batpony’s Enthrall ever could. “...It’s not that you spent time in Fetlock,” Twilight said evenly—honestly. “It’s why you were there. What you did.” “Because I ran away.” It hadn’t been a question, but Twilight supplied her confirmation anyway. The two of them still weren’t looking at each other. “Yes.” “You think that I’m a coward.” It was another statement. “A lot of ponies left Equestria to get away from the war,” the unicorn deflected. It wasn’t a ‘lie’, as such. She simply felt as though she’d insulted the doctor enough already. “...That wasn’t a denial,” Fluttershy calmly observed. Twilight didn’t have a response for that. She wasn’t looking in the pegasus’ direction, so she couldn’t see what the mare was doing; but the sound coming from behind her suggested that the other mare was lowering herself back into the bath. There was a soft sigh, one of resignation rather than contentment. “...Lay back down, colonel.” Twilight was very tempted to decline the invitation. Things were awkward enough between her and the doctor as it was. Today’s events were far from likely to help matters. It probably wouldn’t matter in the long run. Once the senior military commanders in Canterlot got word of the imminent war and its wider implications, they were bound to replace Twilight with an officer more familiar with defending island fortifications. Just in case the war escalated to the point that Equestria was dragged into it. Harmony was a long way from the mainland. It would need to be able to defend itself without support for a week or more if the worse happened. In the end, Twilight lowered herself back into the water. Just because it was unlikely that hers and the doctor’s relationship would improve was no reason to further antagonize things by blatantly rebuking the pegasus. “Again, I’m sorry I—” the unicorn tried once more, stopping when Fluttershy held up her hoof. “...Did you know that I was the first pony to ever meet a zebra? At least, as far as I know. If there was a meeting before mine, a public record was never made of it.” Twilight blinked in mild surprise at the declaration, but then her expression quickly morphed into a frown. “I thought everypony else aboard the Maddox died in the Fisher Atoll Incident?” She said, referencing the well-publicized initial encounter between zebras and ponies, during which an Equestrian frigate that was charting the atoll was ambushed and destroyed in a surprise attack by a zebra cruiser. There was only a single pony survivor reported: one of the frigate’s pegasi, Silver Jewel, who’d been scouting the reefs ahead of the Maddox when the frigate was sunk. “I actually met some zebras long before then,” Fluttershy said. Both Twilight’s and Rarity’s eyes widened in response to the revelation, as this appeared to be news to the fortress’ executive officer as well. “Though it wasn’t on purpose. “I went abroad shortly after finishing medical school,” the pegasus explained. “I traveled to the usual places that ponies went to if they worked up the courage to leave Equestria back then: Griffonstone, Mount Aris, Mulan. You’d hear about the zebras of course, but you’d never meet them in the flesh. They didn’t interact with many races back then.” Twilight nodded. One of the more surprising outcomes of the war between Equestria and the Zebracan Conclave was that it finally brought the zebras to the negotiating table—any negotiating table. Like the alicorns, they’d apparently declined to receive diplomats from any of the other races on the planet since…well, any given race’s recorded history. Nor had they ever sent any delegates of their own. The extent of the typical ‘exchange’ between a zebra vessel and that of a ship from another race was that of gunfire. Specifically: a warning shot across the bow. It hadn’t taken long for word to get around to stay away from zebra ships. It had at least seemed like zebras weren’t interested in seeking out aggression. Which was fortunate, as no other ship afloat could outrun a zebra cruiser. What had prompted the zebras to forsake their typical standoffish nature when their ship had come across the Maddox was unknown. The zebras had insisted that the Equestrian ship attacked their vessel first. Silver Jewel had attested that, while he hadn’t seen how the fight started with his own eyes, by the time he got back he did see the zebra cruiser sink the Maddox from well outside any range an Equestrian cannon could have accurately managed from a ship at sea. The divergent accounts still remained unresolved. But, in the wake of the war and the zebras’ offer to surrender, little further interest had been paid to finding the truth. The ink on the treaty was still wet enough that nopony wanted to risk ruffling any manes by figuring out who exactly deserved to have the hoof pointed at them over the war. The doctor’s story continued: “Then, one day, I was on my way to meet with a Kirean ship that was reported to have a sick crewmare onboard. She’d broken a leg and it had gotten infected. They were worried about moving her and were still days away from making port. “But I got caught in a bad squall on my way there.” A grimace creased the yellow mare’s features. “I’m…pretty much the opposite of Captain Rainbow Dash when it comes to flying: I’m not very good at all. It was all I could do just to make it to a cloud to hold onto to keep from getting blown into the sea. “It was hours before the storm died down enough for me to risk flying again, and by that time I had no idea where I even was anymore or how far I was from shore. Just flying out and hoping that I got lucky enough to find land only risked making me more lost than I already was; or so I reasoned at the time. I decided to stick with the cloud I was on and see if I came across a ship that’d be able to tell me where I was.” Twilight could imagine what a harrowing experience that must have been: to be lost and disoriented in the middle of the ocean. It certainly wasn’t an experience that she wanted to have herself. “Well…I eventually did. I came across a zebra ship.” A wan smile crossed the doctor’s lips now. “That was how I knew that I was really lost. Like I said: zebras didn’t interact with other races all that much. So if I was over a part of the ocean with zebra ships in it, then I probably wasn’t going to see any ships from the other races we knew about. And I’d already been floating around up there for almost a week by that time. I’d drunk most of my cloud already, and it wouldn’t be much longer before I was too weak to fly at all. “So…I tried my luck with the zebras. “They were actually pretty nice to me once they realized I was lost,” she said, a soft smile touching her muzzle as she relived the memories. “The language barrier made things difficult at first, but after a few days we managed to learn enough of each others’ languages to get across the basics. They really warmed up to me when they found out I was a doctor. Their ship had its own doctor—Doctor Xera—but she was glad to have the help in the sickbay. “The captain diverted their course. They took me close to a Saddle Arabian port that they knew about. Close enough that I could fly there on my own. I thanked them and we parted ways. “It was pretty easy to make it back to Equestria from there.” Fluttershy was silent for several long moments as the faint smile melted away, her eyes growing haunted. “...A couple months later, ponies and zebras were at war.” Twilight and Rarity exchanged looks. “That was an incredible story, doctor,” the purple unicorn said. “I never knew that a pony had had interactions with the zebras prior to Fisher Atoll.” Fluttershy nodded. “I’ve only ever told that story once before,” the pegasus admitted. “And it was the greatest mistake of my life.” Both unicorns balked now. “Whatever do you mean, doctor?” Rarity asked, sounding just as perplexed by the revelation as Twilight was feeling. “When the war was going really badly, all sorts of ponies in the government and the Cavalry were asking everypony and anypony if they knew anything about zebras,” Fluttershy said. “And…I wanted to be helpful, so I told somepony that I’d been on a zebra ship and talked with them. “They asked me all sorts of questions about the ship, but I’m not a naval pony, so I just didn’t know anything that was very useful—not the sort of things that the generals cared about anyway.” The yellow mare gave an anemic shrug. “Then they asked me what I talked with the zebras about, and I told them about how I talked a lot with the ship’s doctor and how we talked about medical treatments and techniques and things like that. I told them about how Doctor Xera and I discussed the different medicines that zebras and ponies used…” The pegasus was silent for a few moments. Then, quietly, almost reluctantly: “...Then I told them about how some of the medications Equestria used were highly toxic to the zebras.” Realization dawned almost instantly on Twilight’s face. It made sense, of course. Even from the outset of the war, things were going terribly for Equestria. The Cavalry’s tacticians and planners had been desperate for anything that might help to give Equestria a fighting chance: weapons, armors, spells. The revelation that ponies were already actively producing a substance which was toxic to the enemy would have been invaluable information. If a way could have been found to properly weaponize the delivery of that medication… Chemical warfare wasn’t regarded as being a particularly ‘honorable’ means of prosecuting a war; but many of Equestria’s leaders eventually reasoned that ‘fighting dirty’ was far preferable to ‘dying with dignity’. Twilight…wasn’t sure how she felt about that quite yet. “...They wanted to know everything I’d learned about how to hurt zebras,” Fluttershy said, almost too quietly to hear. She raised her head and met Twilight’s gaze. “They wanted me to figure out the best ways to poison as many of them as possible. “They wanted a doctor to teach them how to kill. En masse.” The purple unicorn looked away. —Twilight had developed the theories back in school. There’d been a research paper. —She’d received high marks for it; because of course she had— But it had been just a paper. All theory; no practical trials. A thought exercise and little more. The Cavalry found the paper. They brought it back to its author. They wanted the theory turned into a spell— —Twilight usually enjoyed creating new spells— Twilight had succeeded; because of course she had. She’d cast the spell exactly once. …Once had been enough… “I ran,” Fluttershy admitted. “I was scared, and so I ran. Scared of what they’d do with the information. Scared of being called a ‘hero’ for my ‘contributions’ after the war.” Twilight still couldn’t bring herself to look at the pegasus, but she felt the other mare’s eyes on her all the same. “...And I was scared of how I’d come to feel about that. “So I ran. Like a coward. I ran away to Griffonstone and stayed there for the rest of the war. When it ended, I came back—Equestria was still my home. I was arrested for desertion. I pleaded guilty. “The rest…is in my file.” The room was plunged into silence once more. In many ways, it was a more awkward one than the earlier doubt of quiet following Twilight’s ill-thought out snapped retort. Because, now that the little purple unicorn knew the full context behind the doctor’s incarceration, it was hard for Twilight not to see a little of herself in the pegasus. Both of them had possessed knowledge that Equestria’s leaders wanted in order to help to win the war. Twilight had granted hers when asked; Fluttershy had fled to keep her knowledge from being misused. Now, with the benefit of hindsight on how those choices had turned out, Twilight wasn’t quite as certain about which of them had made the correct decision back then. “I’m sorry—again—for what I said to you,” Twilight said. She was finally able to meet the other mare’s gaze. “I didn’t know about the details behind your incarceration—I couldn’t have known them—but that shouldn’t have mattered. I drew conclusions based on incomplete data.” The unicorn’s lips quirked upward into a wan smile. “I know better than to do that, and I did it anyway. “I’m sorry,” she repeated. Fluttershy gave a little nod. “...I’m used to it.” “You shouldn’t be.” the little purple unicorn affirmed. “And, for what it’s worth: I don’t think you’re a coward. Sticking to your convictions in the face of adversity is one of the more straightforward definitions of bravery, actually.” The smile that spread across Twilight’s muzzle now was far warmer than many of her earlier ones. “I agree,” Major Rarity said with a firm nod of her head. “I can imagine the sort of pressure that the brass would have placed on you in order to get you to reveal what you knew.” So could Twilight. “...Thank you.” A gentle knock at the door drew the attention of all three mares. A soft pink mare poked her head into the bath. “Colonel, Major, doctor? Vee are ready to begin your massages now; if you vould care to follow me?” One of the proprietor mares asked. The trio exchanged looks before Rarity supplied the answer on their behalf. “That sounds lovely, Miss Aloe; lead the way!” Five minutes into the massage, Colonel Twilight Sparkle decided that regular visits to the La Ti Da was something that she was going to work into her schedule. It was almost as relaxing as reading a good book… “Does this letter come with an explanation as to why it took so long to get here?” Ambassador Ember growled as she accepted the scroll from her assistant. All the while, the dragoness’ cold blue eyes didn’t leave the messenger standing on the other side of her desk. “Gilda knew the details days ago. And they came to her via ship.” “You’re lucky we know anything at all, ambassador,” the crimson drake retorted, not seeming to be at all intimidated by the glare being leveled at him from the daughter of the reigning Dragon Lord. He likely believed that his rank afforded him some protection from Ember’s ire. He was probably correct. With a genuine war now underway, the dragons couldn’t afford to shake up their command structure by casually defrocking air marshals just because they weren’t bowing and scraping enough. “Just about every dragon that survived the attack died shortly after being recovered,” Marshal Garble explained, sounding as frustrated by the news as the ambassador was. “That’s an account from the only one who managed to put together any kind of description of what attacked Rock Haven.” He nodded his muzzle in the direction of the scroll the dragoness was unfurling. Ember grunted and began to read over the missive. Her eyes skimmed over everything she considered ‘extraneous’ until she finally got to the information she actually cared about: the identities of the forces that had wiped out their garrison on the island. Ambassador Gilda had insisted that it wasn’t the Republic who had launched the attack. The dragoness—obviously—hadn’t believed that for a moment. There was a very short list of races on the planet which possessed the military might that would have hypothetically been capable of dislodging the army that the dragons had been building on Rock Haven: the zebras, the alicorns, maybe the ponies—and even if one of them could have done the deed, none of them would have had any reason to launch a surprise attack. The only race with the means and the motive to perpetrate this was the griffons. It simply had to be them, no matter what Ambassador Gilda might otherwise claim in the Council Chamber. Now that Ember had finally received proof of that from a witness, she could go back to the other representatives and reveal the griffons for the lying sacks of shit that they— The cobalt dragoness’ eyes widened. Then they narrowed once more, her lips curling into a vicious sneer before she glared back at the drake who’d brought her this news. This profoundly unhelpful news. “Is this some kind of fucking joke?” She held up the parchment so that Garble could see its contents. The scroll hadn’t been sealed when Spike had received it from the marshal, so Ember presumed that the crimson dragon had read it over at least once already and was familiar with its contents. She still wanted to make her point though, jabbing a talon at the offending sentences in the letter. “‘It was like the night itself came alive’?” Ember didn’t quite spit in derision. “‘Darkness attacked us from everywhere’? The fucking ‘darkness’ attacked them? What does that even mean?! “Even dragon whelps aren’t afraid of the dark!” Then the ambassador’s claw drifted down to a not-very-helpful ‘sketch’ that had been included at the bottom of the scroll. “And what’s this supposed to be? Was the island attacked by an ink blot?” Garble threw his arms up in an exasperated gesture of his own. Given his lack of surprise by anything that Ember had quoted, it was clear that the drake had read over the contents of the scroll at least once. The fact that the marshal looked like he was at least as frustrated as she was did exactly nothing to ease the dragoness ambassador’s frustrations. “How the fuck should I know?! I wasn’t even there for the actual debriefing! I’m just telling you what I was told by the dragons who spoke to the only survivor who managed to get out more than two words before dying. I’m told that he drew the picture himself.” “I made more detailed finger-paintings than this when I was a hatchling,” Ember scoffed before she tossed the roll of parchment, and the amorphous black blob at the bottom of it, onto her desk. Had it not been specifically pointed out in the letter that the large dark splotch was intended to be a visual depiction of what had attacked Rock Haven Island, the ambassador would have assumed it was the result of a bottle of ink being inadvertently tipped over onto the scroll and immediately dismissed it as having any relevance whatsoever. Learning that the splotch was meant to be important actually somehow made the dragoness more frustrated with the letter’s contents. Mostly because the ‘illustration’ looked exactly nothing like a griffon. “Allegedly, it rose out of the water, was as big as Lord Torch himself, and spewed out a bunch of smaller little black and sparkly blob things that swarmed over the island. Nothing stopped them,” The drake shrugged as he related what little else he knew about the situation. “Not canons, not muskets, not even dragonfire. Though he said that the fire at least seemed to get them to react. Whatever that was didn’t even acknowledge being shot at by canons. “Or so he said.” “So, in summary, what you’re telling me happened is: a giant shadow showed up out of nowhere, gave exactly no fucks about being shot at with thirty-pound cannon balls, sank every ship anchored there, killed just about every dragon anywhere near the island…and then just fucked off back into the ocean like nothing happened?” Ember said, not bothering to hide her skepticism. “And all of this, what, a day or two before a fleet of Republic troop transports conveniently shows up at Rock Haven with enough griffons to occupy and fortify the island like we’d never even taken it in the first place?” Marshal Garble didn’t appear to have a response to the ambassador’s—presumably rhetorical—question. It was perhaps just as well. Even Ember wasn’t sure if there was an answer that the crimson drake could have given that wouldn’t have just pissed her off even more. “I looked over our most recent intelligence reports,” the dragoness went on. “Feel free to correct me if I’m out of date, being all the way out here, but I was under the impression that the Republic doesn’t even have any serious warship fleets operating in that region. “Am I mistaken?” “No, ambassador,” the drake admitted in a somewhat reluctant tone. He appeared to have already anticipated where Ember was going with her next line of questioning, and had decided that he wasn’t looking forward to providing the answers he knew he’d have to. “They have some lighter cruisers for anti-piracy and interdiction duties in the region, but all of their heavier frigates and battleships are elsewhere.” Ember nodded. “So, the griffons had nothing nearby that could have supported an invasion fleet.” It was a statement, not a question, but Garble nodded anyway. “And how long had those troop ships been at sea before arriving at the island?” “Five days.” “So those troop ships set out for the island while it was still occupied by us, with nothing to help them support a landing.” Another statement. “Correct, ambassador.” “It’s almost like whoever gave the order to send those ships knew that our garrison would be dealt with before they arrived. In fact, only a complete moron would have sent out a fleet like that towards Rock Haven Island without first knowing that there wouldn’t be any opposition present by the time the transports arrived,” Ember deduced, receiving no pushback from the drake standing in front of her. “Unfortunately for us—and despite their anatomy suggesting otherwise—the griffons aren’t bird-brained idiots. They knew the Rock Haven garrison would be dealt with when they sent those ships. In fact, they timed the attack almost perfectly, because if it had happened even a couple days sooner, we’d have had time to send out more dragons to reinforce the defenses—not many,” Ember acknowledged. “Not enough to hold off a real assault, but enough to fight off what the Republic actually sent.” “Probably,” Garble agreed. “My point, marshal, is that this ink blot,” the cobalt dragoness stabbed the drawing on her desk with a claw, “is obviously associated with the griffons somehow. What I want to know is: how? “Is it a new kind of magic that the griffons developed? Something they imported from another race? Is it some new kind of monster that they’ve managed to tame? “I know you don’t know,” Ember headed off the drake as he opened his mouth to offer what was no doubt an admission of ignorance. “There’d have been an explanation in this letter if anydragon did. My point is that we need to find out. “Comb through every record we have back home. Every record,” the dragoness stressed. “Intelligence reports, histories, myths, legends, fucking whelp stories—anything and everything that might mention anything that looks or acts like this thing,” Ember repeatedly stabbed the image on the scroll for emphasis. “Reach out to the other races too. The kirins, the donkeys, the ponies—actually, no, not the ponies,” the ambassador amended. “Why not?” Garble asked, sounding genuinely curious. “If this thing was at all magical—and ignoring cannon balls suggests that it was—then the ponies seem like the ones to ask. Aside from the alicorns, ponies are the most magically-inclined race on the planet.” “Exactly,” Ember agreed. “They are incredibly skilled with magic. If any race was capable of creating something like this, it would probably be the ponies—or the alicorns,” the ambassador added with a dismissive note. While undeniably capable, it was well-known how non-inclined the alicorns were to share any of their knowledge with the other races. The ponies on the other hand… “The griffons sold weapons to the ponies during their war with the zebras,” the ambassador explained. “If any race was going to sell weapons to the griffons, it would be them. “I’m not saying that Equestria is actively helping the Republic against us,” Ember hastily amended upon seeing the obvious question building up behind Garble’s widening gaze. “They could have sold whatever magical knowledge this is to the griffons years ago. Maybe some basis for it was something that got traded to the griffons in exchange for the weapons during the war. Who knows? “My point is that this thing could be based on pony technology. If we ask them about it, then it’s possible that word about how much we know about all this might get back to the griffons.” “So? We’re at war,” the drake stated the obvious. “Why do we care if the griffons find out we’re looking into where they’re getting help from?” “Because they clearly don’t want us to know about whatever this thing is.” Ember said. “They don’t want anycreature to know. Otherwise why act like the attack never happened during the Council meeting?” “Isn’t that even more of a reason for us to tell everycreature about it?” “It is if we have real proof,” the ambassador countered, scowling. “The ravings of one half-mad drake on his deathbed doesn’t mean anything. If the griffons deny having access to something like this, and we don’t have any real evidence that they do, then we just come off looking like lunatics looking for any reason to explain why we just got punted off Rock Haven by our tails. If we’re going to find allies in this war, then we need our credibility to be as intact as possible. We can’t let the griffons undermine us by painting us as fools that are literally jumping at shadows,” she waved her hand at the scroll. “The moment we have any concrete evidence of some sort that the griffons used that thing to attack us before their declaration of war, then we’ll release it to the world at large and expose them in front of the Council. But, until then…” Ember shook her head. “Keep our investigation away from any of the races that might have working relationships with the griffons; which includes the other major races on the Council: no ponies, no alicorns, and no zebras. “Frankly, if any of them were a part of this, then we’re pretty much fucked anyway…” Garble nodded. “Understood, Ambassador Ember,” the marshal said with a sigh. “We’ll see what we can dig up.” As the crimson-scaled drake turned away to leave, Ember stopped him with one additional question. “What are we doing to stop another attack like this?” She asked. “If cannons don’t work, and dragonfire barely gets a reaction, how does my fa—how does the Dragon Lord intend to fight it off if it shows up again?” Garble was quiet for far longer than Ember was comfortable with before he answered. “...The current plan is to fight it with everything we have, Ambassador Ember. No surrender; no retreat.” The marshal hadn’t turned back to look at her when he’d answered. The ambassador didn’t say anything further to stop him from leaving. Her office was silent for a long while after the door closed, and it was only broken when Ember’s assistant, Spike, offered up a bluntly succinct assessment which almost perfectly mirrored the ambassador’s own private thoughts: “I’ll be honest; that doesn’t sound like a very good plan.” “No. No it doesn’t.” Hopefully there would be better options available to them before it was too late. Author's Note Alternate chapter titles included: "Hey, look who finally passed the Bechdel Test!" As always, a thumbs up and comment are greatly appreciated If you like the cover art and want to see more stories get them, I've set up a Cover Art Fund if you're interested and have any bits lying around! Prologue: Midnight on the Firing Line‘Equestria Will Prevail!’ A few years ago, those affirming posters had been everywhere. They’d been plastered on nearly every flat surface in every town across the continent. A bold statement emblazoned above a scene of defiant ponies wearing pristine uniforms and barding. Motivational. Inspiring. Desperately prophetic. They’d turned out to be little more than a comforting lie. One that ponies had continued to tell themselves for years. The lithe purple unicorn mare found herself idly wondering—and not for the first time—how many of the ponies behind the creation of those posters had known it to be a lie from the beginning? Surely, after seeing the results of the first true battle of the war, it had to have been obvious to Equestria’s leadership how outmatched ponies were. How hopeless… And yet…they’d still continued to make the posters. Not as many of them remained anymore—and there were several reasons for that. Eventually, a few years into the fighting, it was decided that the time and ponypower being spent making the posters would be of better benefit to the war effort if directed elsewhere. Like building up earthworks around what towns and forts still yet remained undestroyed by the enemy. Not many of those had remained either. Those few posters which still yet endured today showed their years. They bore the scars of wind, rain…and disillusioned ponies. The last poster that the mare had seen on her way out of the city had been heavily marred by water damage; and its text now read: ‘Equestria Will Prevail! DIE’. Staring out from the slope of the mountain, towards the distant lowlands surrounding Equestria’s last remaining city worthy of being called such, and counting the pinpricks of light of the camp fires that surrounded it, the unicorn found that she no longer disagreed with the sentiment expressed on the poster. It was no longer a poster dictating a lie. It finally reflected the truth. One that she’d known for a long time. She’d run the numbers. Even when the answer provided was objectively disheartening, the mare still found that there was a comfort to be had when solving any given equation. After all, nothing was more distressing to her mind than uncertainty. Planning around variables required creating contingencies to cover the possible undesirable outcomes. Which was fine. To a point. Nopony knew everything, after all; and so having a fallback plan was always necessary. Being prepared was the mark of a good leader. However, if there were too many variables at play, then the number of contingency plans needed could become cumbersome to work with. The middle of a battlefield was a less than ideal place to whip out and consult a flow chart. Contingencies needed to be kept to a minimum, which meant eliminating as many of the outstanding variables as possible beforehoof; and so the mare had gathered up all of the information that she could on the situation in an effort to run the relevant numbers and solve as many of the equations as possible. She eliminated the variables, leaving only the most likely outcomes left to consider. The answer that she’d gotten had been…less than ideal. To put it delicately. But she had still managed to find some measure of comfort in the truth where none at all had been present within the lies of those posters. The mare ascribed that comfort to the answers having allowed her to reach the final stage of grief under the Tuber Moss Model: Acceptance. We won’t win; but at least we tried. Trying mattered. She liked to think that wasn’t a lie. “I heard that they took Fillydelphia in two days.” The purple unicorn managed to peel her eyes away from the distant specks of firelight long enough to look at the pale yellow mare standing beside her. Even in the dim, predawn light, it was easy to make out the trepidation carved into her executive officer’s face as Lieutenant Moondancer stared down with her at the enemy encampment. No. It was more than mere ‘trepidation’, the other mare ruefully admitted to herself; it was fear. Maybe even a tinge of outright despair. It was hard to blame her. The purple unicorn’s own gaze returned to regard the enemy once more, staring down the slope of Canterhorn Mountain at the army which was besieging the last city of ponies. The invading forces had encircled Canterlot the previous day. It was a foregone conclusion that they would attack in the morning. Perhaps as late as the next day, depending on how much artillery they felt like bringing up. “The terrain around Fillydelphia wasn’t very defensible.” The words were more deflection than substance. It was a factually true statement…and little else. It completely overlooked the fact that, according to the reports from the few scouts who’d managed to make it back to Canterlot alive, Fillydelphia had been bombarded very nearly into rubble by hundreds of artillery pieces the likes of which Equestria had never seen before the war; and certainly couldn’t hope to match. Many unicorns were capable of spells which came close to duplicating the destructive power of the enemy’s explosive shells, sure. But most would succumb to burnout after just a few castings. Perhaps a dozen at most. Such destructive spells were extremely energy-intensive, and so drained unicorns quickly. The little purple mare had devised a work-around for that and proven its efficacy. Unfortunately, her methods hadn’t turned out to be very sustainable either. Just in a different way… The enemy siege artillery bombing Equestria into ruin didn’t rely on magic though. It used more mundane methods, and the pieces could fire at a nearly continuous rate so long as they could be supplied with explosive shells. And these invaders had shown no sign that their supply of such destructive munitions was in danger of running out any time soon, given how liberally they were using them during battles and sieges. “Come on. Let’s finish our patrol.” “Yes, ma’am,” Moondancer said with a quick nod before turning and motioning for the rest of the company to move up. The formation of two hundred armored unicorns made their way down the southern slope at a clipped canter, all eyes scanning the forests surrounding the mountainside. Ears swiveled atop heads, seeking out any sign of their enemy. The pickets had reported enemy movement in the forests surrounding Canterlot. The generals feared that spotters for the invader’s artillery were being set into position in preparation for the imminent attack. Their mission was to go out and chase off any of these small enemy units before they could dig in. They were also supposed to find and turn away any enemy scouts that might be trying to get a look at Canterlot’s defenses. Moondancer’s attention tended to focus on the treeline near the base of the mountain. A frown was creasing her muzzle. Then her eyes squinted for a brief moment. “I think I see something in the trees,” she said aloud after a few moments of staring. “I’m going to take a closer look.” Without waiting for her confirmation from her captain, the pale yellow unicorn peeled off a dozen ponies from the rest of the group and charged off before the other mare was even aware of what she’d said. “Lieutenant!” The purple unicorn hissed, but it was too late. The detachment had already accelerated into a gallop and wasn’t looking back. She swore under her breath, briefly torn between the urge to go after her wayward XO and the importance of sticking to their assigned patrol route. Then her own amethyst gaze also caught sight of…something in the treeline. A flicker of movement. There was always the possibility, of course, that it had simply been an animal. A deer or something else of the sort. Possible, but not worth assuming. They needed to operate under the assumption that such a thing was either an enemy forward scout or one of the forward spotters for the artillery they were out here looking for. The unicorn was about to rally the rest of the company to follow the lieutenant. Then she caught sight of another flicker of movement a little further down the treeline. Her lips pursed. Something was wrong. The distance was too great for both points of movement to be associated with the same enemy grouping. At least, assuming what they’d stumbled upon was a picket of some sort. Nor would two separate units have been positioned so close to one another—not on purpose, anyway. A glint of something metallic reflected the waning moonlight. The lavender unicorn instantly recognized the shape of one of the rifles used by their enemy. She’d seen a lot of them. She was seeing a lot of them now. Glints of steel at the edge of the forest. Several more. A dozen. Several scores. The invaders were in the treeline. All along the treeline. These weren’t some of their artillery spotters; they’d moved their whole army into the forest! It was a realization that all but froze the unicorn’s heart. Her mind reeled with the impossibility of it all. They’d all seen the distant pinpricks of firelight in the distance—miles in the distance—denoting the enemy’s camps. Those points of light had been there all night, unwavering. Simultaneously ominous and reassuring in the darkness. For, while those fires showed that the enemy had Canterlot surrounded, they had also shown that the enemy was way over there! It had been a ruse, she realized now. The enemy had moved their lines up from their camps under cover of darkness, getting their forces into position so that they could begin their assault on Canterlot the moment the sun peeked over the horizon. Her company wasn’t facing a dozen or so enemy scouts. There was a battalion or more in those trees. “Moondancer!” The cry was one of desperation. Perhaps even one of futility. All the same, she couldn’t stand by and remain quiet while her XO charged unwittingly to her death. The chiffon mare drew up slightly and turned her head back towards her commanding officer and the rest of the company. “Get back—!” The rest of the warning was drowned out by the rolling thunderclaps of firing rifles as the nearby forest came alive with muzzle flashes. The purple mare watched in utter horror as the dozen unicorns heading towards the forest were mercilessly cut down in a hail of bullets. The steel barding they wore offered no protection from the withering fire that assaulted them. Moondancer didn’t react to the cacophonous gunfire erupting behind her or the slaughter of the ponies nearby. She simply dropped in a heap of limbs and armor, like a marionette which had had its strings cut, dead before she’d had time enough to realize that her life was in danger. Only a few of the ponies with her had lived long enough to get out a scream. The lavender mare’s shock lasted only a heartbeat before years of battle-bred instinct took over. “Contact! In the trees!” She called out at the top of her lungs. “Form ranks and advance!” She ordered. “Two deep!” Her own hooves were already in motion before the commands were fully out of her mouth. She didn’t look back to confirm that the rest of her company was responding to the order. She didn’t need to. The din of hundreds of armored hooves pounding down the mountainside was all the confirmation that the purple unicorn needed. “Charge!” Running these numbers was pretty straightforward. The purple mare wasn’t particularly surprised when the answer she came up with wasn’t an encouraging one. She’d seen the breadth of the firing line sequestered in the trees. It wasn’t difficult to extrapolate that out to a rough number of bodies and from there the approximate size of the group which had apparently advanced up to the base of Canterhorn Mountain under the cover of darkness. The unicorn knew she was leading her ponies into the waiting maw of a numerically vastly superior force. One which also possessed weapons whose lethality far outclassed what Equestria was capable of producing. She knew she was leading her ponies to their deaths. There simply wasn’t any better option. The mountainside behind them was all but devoid of any cover worth considering. Her ponies were out in the open, and well within the range of the enemy’s rifles. To turn and run in an attempt to escape would just mean all of them being shot in the back. But…if she could get her ponies in close—get hoof-to-hoof with the enemy and negate the advantage conferred to them by those Tartarus-damned— The treeline bloomed once more with another broad volley. Ahead of them, the charging formation could see the brilliant orange muzzle flashes which were pelting their formation with fire that was far too effectively placed for the mare’s liking. To say nothing of the absolutely absurd rate of fire that was being maintained! The slender unicorn at the head of the formation felt her lips pulling back into a frustrated sneer as she inwardly cursed their enemy’s superior arms. Equestria had only just unlocked the secrets of gunpowder a scant few decades ago—and had only just begun to explore its military applications with the onset of the invasion. Conversely, she was led to understand that the invaders had refined their own familiarity with the versatile compound over many centuries. That vast gulf of experience was on full display now in the predawn hours. With lethal effect. A mare’s pained whinny sounded immediately to her right, followed swiftly by the agonizing staccato of metal armor and limbs grinding to their final rest upon stony ground. Out of the corner of her eye, the mare spied another pony shifting to fill the gap left in their line by the loss of their slain comrade. Their numbers had thinned noticeably since the start of the charge. “Unicorns, ready!” The cry rose up from her throat. Her own horn ignited with brilliant magenta light. All along the line of charging ponies, bright motes of light made up of nearly any color which could be imagined burst to life. Another cascade of muzzle flashes from the treeline ahead snuffed out the better part of a third of them. The cries of the dying threatened to drown out the sound of pounding hooves and shifting armor. “Release!” A veritable prism of light lanced forth from the line of charging ponies, striking at the treeline concealing their enemy. It was nearly impossible to know how many of their foes they’d slain with the magical assault. The nascent morning hour was still too dim, and the foliage too thick. Nothing about this fight favored her or her ponies. That was almost certainly by design, she suspected. She lit her horn and shot a brilliant flare of magic into the air. A signal to Canterlot that contact had been made with a substantial enemy force. An assault on the city was likely imminent. Every last able defender would be roused and armed—perhaps even those who were less than able. After all, it wasn’t as though there would be much of an opportunity for non-combatants to retreat. There was nowhere left in Equestria for the ponies to retreat to. Canterlot was all that was left. When they fell here— When… …Well, perhaps other races would remember Equestria in stories and history texts. Maybe the enemy would craft a song or two about their final victory that deigned to make mention of who it was they had so utterly destroyed. Her fatalistic thoughts were briefly interrupted by something striking her right cheek. Not a whole bullet, fortunately. Likely just a fragment of one that had ricocheted off of a rock as her squadron was further culled by another salvo of rifle fire; for those were rifles that were being employed against her ponies. Ones which fired with only a hoofful of seconds between rounds, while Equestria’s own craftsmares could barely manage to assemble a proper matchlock that was lucky to fire once a minute. Twice a minute if the user was a well-drilled unicorn; and those shots might land in the approximate vicinity of the target. Presuming the target was standing still and out in the open. And close. If it weren’t for the ‘charity’—though the extortionate prices being charged for the weapons was anything but ‘charitable’—of the griffons in selling them somewhat more comparable arms, the ponies would be launching crossbow quarrels and slinging stones at an adversary who was known to employ— A new source of ear-splitting thunder roared up at the ponies, spewing much fiercer gouts of smoke and flame. “Cannons! Spread ou—!” The unicorn’s orders were lost as an explosive shell detonated a scant few yards behind her. The concussive blast flung her forward, sending the mare tumbling to the ground in a rolling mess of hooves and barding. She opened her mouth to urge what remained of her company—barely a squadron’s worth of ponies now—towards the enemy’s ranks, but all that emerged was a pained cry as every new hurt her body had experienced during her fall announced itself to the world through her throat. She grit her teeth, hard enough that she was genuinely unsure if she’d chipped something or if her mouth was simply filled with dirt and grit from her fall. She willed away the pain with middling success even as she struggled to get back onto her hooves. “Captain!” A stallion’s voice managed to pierce through the ringing in her ears. The mare’s eyes looked onto the armored form of a caramel unicorn holding out his hoof to help her up. “I’ve got you, ma’am!” She reached to take the offered limb— Another crackle of rifle fire echoed up the mountain. A heartbeat later the stallion jerked as no fewer than three bullets effortlessly tore through his steel-plated barding as though he’d been wearing a burlap sack. He fell over dead, his eyes locked open in shock and surprise. She cursed under her breath and wheeled her head around to glare at the offending treeline teeming with the enemy. She flared her horn and issued a magical reprisal for the death of one of her ponies. She’d tried to focus in on where she believed she’d seen a muzzle flash, but it was hard to be sure through the haze of gunsmoke which was settling over the underbrush like fog. Again she struggled to her hooves, succeeding this time in getting all of the way back up to a mostly standing posture. “Pon—” She barely got out even a single syllable before she was forced into a coughing fit by the dust and smoke in her lungs. Judging from the sickly sweet taste in her mouth, she judged that there was a fair bit of blood mixed in as well. “Ponies! On me!” There was only a slightly better than zero chance that anypony had actually managed to hear the order which had come out as more cough than shout. It didn’t matter. Any who hadn’t heard her would at least be able to see her closing with the enemy’s line and fall in at her flanks. She was unsteady on her hooves as she pushed on down the mountain. So much of her hurt. But she shoved the pain aside. It wouldn’t be there for much longer anyway. The cannons fired again, filling the mountainside with fresh explosions, screams, and corpses. Still she pressed on, her hobbled gait stretching into a trot, and then eventually a canter as she managed to find her stride once more. Nopony else was running with her. The unicorn wasn’t sure whether there was anypony left alive to run with her. It didn’t matter. There had been no turning away from this fight once it had begun anyway. She was close enough to spot them now, the shapes moving in the trees. The creatures who had killed her ponies. Who would soon be making their way up Canterhorn Mountain to slaughter everypony else who’d somehow managed to survive the war up to this point. A city packed to bursting with the paltry remnants of Equestria’s ‘civilian population’: those ponies who were simply too young, too old, and too sick or injured to cast a spell or couch a lance and fight. Their killers were reforming their own ranks, preparing to advance up the mountain. “...No you don’t,” the mare was dimly aware she muttered, as her thoughts escaped her lips, heard only by her own ears. “You don’t get to walk up this mountain…” She stretched out her stride even further now, extending her stiff gait into a full gallop. “You don’t get to walk into my home…” Her horn flared, glowing once more with brilliant magical light. “Not while I’m still here to stop you!” Maybe her defiant scream had actually been loud enough to grab their attention. She couldn’t be sure. The words pained her throat so much that she doubted there had been any real volume to her cry. It was more likely that they’d spied her glowing horn as she gathered together all of the magic that she could for her next spell. Her last spell. The last spell. She’d caught them in the midst of forming their lines in preparation for an advance, so nearly every one of the enemy’s forces was out of position and not prepared to fire. Some managed to get off shots though. Rushed and unaimed as they tracked the running unicorn. Rockdust was kicked up by rounds which fell short, pelting her barding with grit. Her ears flickered at the whistles of rounds which went wide to her left and right. One of the enemy’s bullets would have found their mark in her chest, were it not for the violet barrier the unicorn had conjured directly in front of her. It was a ward which would draw at least some of her gathering magic away from the lethal casting she was mustering, lessening its effect; but her spell would have exactly no effect if she died before she could release it. “If I’m going to die here, then I’m at least going to take some of you with me!” Another round sparked off her barrier ward. She was close enough now that she could make out the shocked expressions on several of the enemy soldiers’ faces. Faces that were bathed more in the magenta glow of her charged spell than the orange light of the sun just starting to crest over Canterhorn Mountain. A few fearful gapes suggested that at least some of the enemy recognized what the unicorn intended to do. Her head ached with the overcharged spell. Her lungs burned with the effort of her sprint. Every movement of her limbs was another stab of pain from the many wounds inflicted by shrapnel and her earlier tumble. None of it would matter in a few more seconds. “When you get to Tartarus; tell them Twilight sent—huh?!” As far as last words went, the purple unicorn mare was certain that they’d have been properly pithy. However, her parting quip had been rather abruptly undercut when her view of the confused and cowering soldiers was rather unexpectedly eclipsed by the sudden emergence of a new arrival leaping over the line of soldiers. They veritably vaulted over the hesitating soldiers, interposing themselves in front of the galloping unicorn and her overcharged spell. There was no sign of fear or hesitation on the striped face before her. Only grim determination was visible in those narrowed aquamarine eyes. The new arrival wasn’t alone either. In their company had been a small brown pouch, which had apparently been launched in the unicorn’s direction. Its appearance was surprising, but not immediately concerning. She still had her ward up. The barrier was sturdy enough to turn away rifle fire, even at this extremely close range. A little canvas bag was hardly going to pose any threat. So she ignored it and pressed onward. She just needed to get…a little…closer… The bag struck her ward and burst open. The mare’s world was consumed by a blinding white light. Then she knew only darkness. *** 10 Years Later *** “Oi! Look alive at that rudder; mind the buoys!” The clipper ship listed to the left as the stallion at the ship’s helm snapped into action, barely managing to keep the vessel from wandering outside of the marked lanes off one of the shallows few safe approaches. Twilight Sparkle reared up and wrapped her forelimbs through some nearby rigging to keep herself from being heaved all the way to the other side of the deck as it tilted to what felt to her like a full forty-five degrees. The mare standing beside her barely seemed to react at all to the ship’s violent motion, her hooves rooted to the wooden deck as though they’d been nailed there as she glared balefully at the pony at the helm. The ship passed the buoy and the stallion turned the wheel back the other way, steering the vessel straight once again. He offered his clearly unamused captain a sheepish smile. “Put a reef through my hull, Mister Shanty, and I’ll use your flank for the plug! Savvy?!” The stallion had the good sense to swallow back a lump of fear in response to the non-threat. For it sounded very much to Twilight like the captain was making him a bona fide promise. The ship’s Master Under Sun and Moon, a salty—in both demeanor and likely majority composition of her coat—seafoam earth pony mare named Keelhaul, muttered some largely unintelligible epithets under her breath before saying more clearly: “...Moonfall Islands claimed enough ships as it is. Ain’t keen to add the Lickity to their tally.” She only then looked up to see her passenger disentangling themselves from the rope rigging that they’d latched onto. “Y’alright there, Colonel Sparkle?” “I’m fine; thank you, captain.” The purple unicorn briefly ignited her horn as she invoked her telekinesis to smooth out her uniform. She’d thus far managed to keep it mostly free of sea spray so that she would look properly presentable when they arrived at their destination…and her new home. She’d keep the baby-blue wool jacket and white flank skirt packed away in her trunk during the entirety of their trip just so that it would be in proper order when she assumed her new command. “Two weeks out ‘ere on the blue and you still ain’t got yer sea legs,” the older mare noted with a wry smirk. “Meanin’ no offense there, colonel; but you don’t seem very suited to nautical life.” “No, I’m very much not,” Twilight agreed, flashing the other mare a rueful smile of her own. “The biggest body of water I ever encountered before this trip was the lake under Canterlot Falls.” The ship’s captain quirked a surprised brow “And they assigned you out here?!” She let out a long, bewildered, whistle. “Who’d you piss off to get saddled with this assignment then?” It was a fair question, the unicorn supposed, and one she’d have liked a proper answer to as well. The explanation that she’d been given by her superiors had been…unfulfilling. “Believe it or not, this is supposed to be a reward,” she informed the captain. Keelhawl snorted. “You got ‘rewarded’ by bein’ banished to the middle of the ocean?” A small rueful smile touched the corner of Twilight’s lips. “I only received my promotion to colonel a month ago. Being given command of a whole fort, even one this remote, is a pretty big deal for somepony in my position.” The earth pony mare raised a brow and eyed the other pony. “Y’sure you didn’t piss somepony off an’ they’re tryin’g to get rid of ya?” Twilight frowned now. “I know the posting’s a little remote…” Even as the purple mare said this, her gaze once more took in the desolate rocky archipelago that the ship was sailing through. She was thousands of miles from Equestria—from any nation, really. There was certainly room to argue that Twilight had been ‘banished’. Not that she could have contemplated a reason why this assignment was intended to be treated as a punishment. Equestria wasn’t generally in the habit of punishing their ‘war heroes’ for no reason… “‘Remote’ ain’t the issue,” the ship captain's cackle was hardly encouraging. Then the earth pony fixed the purple mare with a bemused expression. “What? Ain’t nopony told ya about what happened to the other five Harmony fortresses they built out here?” Twilight blinked. “Um…no, now that you mention it.” Nor had the unicorn thought to read up on them. They weren’t where she’d been assigned to, after all. She’d kept the focus of her research on the specific fortress that she was being stationed at. “Are they not around anymore?” Another bark of rough laughter that was far from encouraging. “Oh, they’re ‘around’ alright!” The mare swept out a forehoof in a broad, all encompassing circle around the ship before settling on one direction. “Harmony Fortress-the-First was right over there. Briefly.” Twilight followed the captain’s indicated direction, but found only empty ocean. “The atoll they built it on turned out to be a might on the unstable side, so it sank into the sea before they were quite done buildin’ it.” Twilight winced, still spying no sign that a massive fort had ever existed where the earth pony was pointing. “They built the second fortress on top of the remains of the first, figuring that its forebear would make a decent fort-bearer,” the mare allowed herself a brief chuckle at the pun before continuing. “But they were wrong and it sank into the sea too.” Now Twilight was regarding the captain with an incredulous expression, searching for signs that she was being played for a fool by a joking captain, but the earth pony didn’t appear to notice the look and pressed on with her historical accounting. “And since ‘third time’s a charm’ and all that, they then tried for the hat trick! That one held for a little while…until it burned down, fell over, and then sank into the sea… “Now the fourth fortress—” “Let me guess: it sank into the sea?” “Oh, no,” the captain’s outstretched limb shifted to a new location. This time Twilight’s attention was drawn to a craggy outcropping of an island. “It blew out into the sea. Its magazines exploded.” The unicorn’s eyes widened in shock. Then narrowed as she finally caught a detail that had nearly slipped by her notice. “Wait. Magazines? Plural?” “Yep. All four of’em. At once. Kablooey.” Her hooves pantomimed a massive explosion. “T’wer like a second sunrise, they said.” Now Twilight was frowning again. “That’s not possible. A fortress’ powder magazines are reinforced along the walls and given a deliberately weakened portion of roof so that any explosion is directed up and away from the other magazines, negating the possibility of an accident causing a chain detonation and mitigating harm to the ponies inside the fort.” “Aye,” the ship’s captain nodded her head in solemn agreement. “But I didn’ say nothin’ about it being no ‘accident’, now did I?” There was not even a hint of mirth in the mare’s expression. Twilight looked more intently at the indicated island. Only now did she notice that the ‘rocky outcroppings’ weren’t formed from any true ‘rock’. They were the scattered remains of worked stone. All that was left of the collapsed curtain walls and bulwarks of a fort that used to be and was no more. Its destruction truly did look far too thorough to have been the result of a genuine accident. “Sabotage? By who?” The seafoam earth pony shrugged. “If’n anypony knows, they ain’t made mention of it to me; and I ain’t keen to know, t’ be honest.” “...And the fifth Harmony Fortress?” Twilight was almost afraid to learn the fate of the next incarnation at this point. “NoPoNy KnOwS~” Keelhaul replied with the exaggerated inflection and wide eyes of somepony regaling a foal with a ghost story. Then she snickered and pointed her hoof out at another island off in the distance. This island was rather smooth and bare in appearance. There was certainly no sign that anything had collapsed into the sea or been destroyed. In fact, it didn’t even look like anything had ever been built there at all. “It was right over there. For all of about a week after the last stone was laid, is the best guess.” “‘Best guess’?” Another shrug from the earth pony. “Nopony was here to see for sure,” she said, sounding nonplussed despite the absurdity of her assertion. “Best as I know it, the last of the ships carrying the engineers left the anchorage…and when the transports with its proper garrison arrived, there wasn’t a fort no more! The ships spent three days wandering the archipelago jus’ in case they’d been given bad charts. Their charts were bang on, o’course. But the fort weren’t where it was s’pposed to be; and ain’t nopony seen nor heard from anypony t’was there since. To say nothin’ of the fort itself. “‘S’like it vanished into the aether.” Twilight felt herself frown at that, unable to point out the technical flaw with the analogy. “Nothing can vanish ‘into the aether’,” she countered. “The aether is just a transient non-dimension. It doesn’t have any physical space that can actually be occupied by anything from the Prime Material Plane. Things pass through the aether, but nothing stays there.” The earth pony mare rolled her eyes. It wasn’t clear to Twilight whether the captain had actually taken any of her explanation to heart. “Well, if’n the fort popped back out of the aether somewhere, ain’t nopony found it—or the ponies t’were in it—since. Might as well be on the moon, for all anypony knows. “In any event…” The mare’s words hung in the air as the ship’s captain turned back to face the bow and peered past her unicorn passenger. “...Y’ain’t here to lead none of the Harmonys what ain’t here no more. You, Colonel Sparkle, are here for that,” she pointed her hoof past the purple mare, drawing Twilight’s gaze ahead of the ship. “Harmony Fortress, sixth—and hopefully last—of her name.” Twilight’s amethyst eyes followed the outstretched foreleg to just a point or two off the starboard bow of the little clipped ship she was riding. They were just clearing an outcropping that was barely worthy of being called an ‘island’, and the unicorn caught sight of the distant fortress that could only be their destination. What surprised the unicorn the most, she supposed, was the sheer scale of it all. They were still several miles away from the island hosting the fortress, and yet she could make out the contours of its towering curtain walls and the many parapets which dotted those intimidating walls. It was the most well-defended fortress that the unicorn had ever seen in her life. A part of her cynically noted that she was judging the station by pony standards, and found herself darkly wondering if a zebra war cruiser would need to fire two salvos or three in order to completely level it… She shook the thought from her mind. There was no need for it. The zebras were now allies of Equestria—and while Twilight was certainly grateful for that fact, she was unable to come up with a personally satisfactory reason as to why that was the case—and so their formidable weapons and ships would would be pointed away from her and her ponies, and not towards them. A welcome change. Indeed, for the moment at least, Equestria had no enemies. At most there were a few races who remained largely indifferent to the existence of ponies, and these existed mostly among the minor races who controlled what amounted to city-states or micronations of one sort or another. Like the donkeys or the yaks. Among the major powers, the ponies actually enjoyed quite amicable relations. Aside from the surprising turn of amiability from the zebras, Equestria had long held pleasant relations with the griffons. That relationship had morphed only slightly since the war, in response to the massive debt which the ponies owed to those who had sold them the weapons which let them stave off total annihilation as long as they had. The dragons too didn’t seem to bear Equestria any ill will. Likely because they had none to spare, saving it wholly for the griffons whose oppression they had only relatively recently thrown off after nearly a century of occupation and plunder of their lands by their avian neighbors. There was something of an armistice which existed between the two races now. A cold war which threatened to go hot with a misplaced word. As far as Twilight was concerned, keeping tempers cooled between those two belligerents would represent a primary focus during her tenure as the commander of Harmony Six. After all, finding a way to maintain the peace between all the races of Equus was the whole goal of the Harmony Project. Their friction would provide something of a litmus test for the project’s effectiveness. It wouldn’t be easy, her mission; but it was important. Few likely knew that as well as Twilight Sparkle did. She’d seen the consequences of a shattered peace. She saw them still, on the occasional night. Smelled the blood and the saltpeter. Heard the screaming—the cries of pain and the begging for the final loving embrace of a mother before the end. Her mission here was important. Perhaps the most important mission of all: the fostering of Harmony between the races of the world. It was a goal that Twilight vowed she would pay any price to uphold. The world would not be bathed in darkness and blood. “...Not while I’m here to stop it.” Author's Note Welcome to the start of what is planned to be a trilogy not-so-subtly inspired by Babylon 5 :P Don't worry if you've never seen the show (but if you haven't...why?!), like Ponytech, knowledge of the source material isn't required to enjoy the story. It just helps catch the occasional reference or in-joke. I hope everyone enjoys this little re-imagining of Season 1 of FiM with a J. Michael Straczynski twist! As always, a thumbs up and comment are always greatly appreciated If you like the cover art and want to see more stories get them, I've set up a Cover Art Fund if you're interested and have any bits lying around! Chapter 9: Voices of Authority (Part 1)Colonel Twilight Sparkle watched as the small team of winged ponies expertly directed the local winds around the incoming ship in order to allow the otherwise cumbersome vessel to dock at the fort’s cramped Mission Docks. Strictly speaking, the third-rate ship of the line was larger than the sort of vessel which would typically be permitted to dock at the piers reserved for use by diplomats and dignitaries. Nations with embassies on the island were encouraged to limit the ships serving their ambassadors to smaller sloops and courier ships which had limited armaments. It was felt that having warships serving the delegations would undermine the message of peace which Harmony was trying to promote. Exceptions to this rule were allowed on a case-by-case basis, however. So long as the party seeking an exception gave proper notice well in advance. After all, piracy was a fact of life on the open water and some of the dignitaries traveling to and from the island might be seen as tempting hostages by more unsavory types. If a nation felt that its representative’s safety was best served by sending them to Harmony aboard a properly armed frigate of war, then that ship was permitted to berth itself at the fort’s Mission Docks while it offloaded its precious cargo. Such was the case with the Equestrian ship of the line presently docking. It was one of the larger warships in the Equestrian navy, boasting seventy-four canons arrayed along three dedicated gun-decks. It wasn’t the largest or most powerful class of ship in the Equestrian navy, Twilight knew, but it was certainly a formidable vessel. The little purple unicorn’s gaze drifted down from the pegasus team corralling the ship down to the vessel itself. Her eyes drifted down its masts until they came to rest on the figurehead adorning the bow. The elegantly-carved unicorn mare’s coat had been painted a pearl white, while her flowing mane had been done up in a two-tone pink. The color still shone quite brilliantly in spite of the generally abusive treatment that most paints received from wind, wave, and salt, while crossing the ocean. The carving had almost certainly been the subject of a recent touch-up prior to the ship’s arrival at Harmony in the name of making a good impression. While the name of the ship painted on the stern was not visible from where Twilight and the rest of the delegation were standing, the unicorn knew what it was from the notice that she’d received several weeks prior. She also knew that, for the duration of the vessel’s trip across the sea, the ship’s given name actually constituted a secondary designation. Because, while Fleur De Lis might be what was actually painted on the ship of the line, its current—official—designation was: ‘Equestria One’. Twilight’s attention briefly darted to the masts of the two Equestrian naval frigates anchored further off the island’s shore which had served as escorts for the larger warship. Their crews would be ferried on and off the island for the duration of their stay via cutters and other smaller boats like normal. However, it had been understandably decided that it was better—and safer—for all concerned for the Chancellor of Equestria to disembark directly onto the docks from his ship. While cutters were generally quite safe, it wasn’t unheard of for the tiny boats to be capsized by the occasional rogue wave. Twilight even recalled an account of ‘the shortest command in history’ when a newly-appointed captain for a ship never actually made it onto the vessel’s deck; instead slipping and falling into the water while trying to get out of the boat that had ferried them to the frigate…and promptly drowned. The little mare turned to regard the welcome delegation that had been assembled…again. Her gaze didn’t linger on Major Rarity for long, as the ivory unicorn could always be counted on to present herself with an impeccably assembled uniform. The fort’s executive officer had thus also been enlisted to review the uniforms and appearance of every other pony who would be in attendance on the dock to greet their nation’s chief elected official. The vein throbbing on Captain Applejack’s temple was barely visible now, having ebbed significantly from its peak after Rarity had fussed over the security head’s vest for the better part of thirty minutes. She quickly reviewed the other assembled ponies in the formation before returning her attention back to Rarity. “Am I still good?” Twilight asked, straightening up so that the other unicorn could judge the lie of her uniform. The XO’s lips quirked into a small smile before her horn briefly lit in order to tweak one of Twilight’s medals. “You look fine, ma’am. You need to relax, colonel! The chancellor is just here to tour the fortress; you’re acting like it’s a performance review.” “It’s exactly like a performance review!” Twilight countered. Then she quickly clamped down on the audible note of rising anxiety in her voice. She spared a moment to take in a deep breath and let it out slowly before continuing. “I’ve been commander of Harmony Fortress long enough that everything is being run the way that I want it. If the chancellor sees something that he doesn’t like, then I’m the pony he’ll hold responsible! This is my first real command in years. If he spots any serious regulatory violations then it could be my last command—” “We’ve conducted three reviews of the entire fortress every day fer th’past week,” Captain Applejack deadpanned. Her eyes briefly glazed over as she relived the past week’s tedium in vivid detail. The orange earth pony shuddered at the prospect of having to go through another of the exacting inspections again after finally having felt the sweet relief of knowing those trials were over with. “He ain’t gonna find nothin’ out of regs.” Most of the earth pony mare’s certainty of that last remark was rooted in the fact that the island’s staff had been a clear warning by the orange pony that, should the Equestrian chancellor find anypony out of compliance with established protocols or procedures, the offender would be discharged from Harmony. Immediately. Via cannon. Applejack hadn’t decided yet if her threat had been hyperbolic. “He might! Major: stall him. I’m going to make another quick sweep of the—” The ivory unicorn spotted the pleading look being given to her by the senior security officer and took quick action. Her hoof came down on Twilight’s tail, drawing the mare up short as she started to turn around and trot away. The major’s horn then lit up, her magic lancing in the direction of the docked warship where it grabbed hold of the gangway which was being moved into position far too slowly for her liking. Rarity’s telekinesis forcibly hauled the bridging between the ship and the dock into place, much to the surprise of the crewmembers who’d been attending to the task. “Oh goodness me,” Major Rarity remarked, feigning surprise while still keeping her senior pinned in place. “It seems that the ship has finished docking. It would reflect incredibly poorly on a commanding officer if they weren’t present to greet their nation’s head of state,” the mare went on to none-too-gently suggest. Twilight winced before turning back around to face the ship. The little purple mare forced her features into something of a pleasant smile as she waited with dread for the chancellor to disembark. The Equestrian delegation appeared at the far end of the ramp. The unicorn stallion at its head largely embodied what most ponies tended to envision when they thought about what a ‘proper stallion’ looked like: The alabaster stallion was tall, well-built, impeccable groomed in both coat and mane, and was dressed in a dignified suit jacket. While Twilight had never had the opportunity to interact with the chancellor directly, she’d heard him speak in public on a couple of occasions and he came across as an exceptionally articulate stallion. Assuming that the stallion wasn’t just putting on an act for the voters, he was an exception to the rule regarding self-obsessed and corrupt politicians. The Harmony Project had actually been one of Fancy Pants’ initiatives before he was elected chancellor, back when the stallion was just a rising star in the Canterlot political scene after the war. While this suggested to Twilight that she wouldn’t have much to worry about when it came to getting the fortress funding and political support, it also made the little mare keenly aware that the civilian head of the Equestrian government might very likely view this peace initiative as being ‘his baby’, and thus might take exception to anypony he felt was ‘mismanaging’ it. Twilight’s ear flicked at the sound of a rather appreciative “Mm-mmm…” coming from Major Rarity’s direction. The purple unicorn managed to keep herself from reacting to her usually straight-laced XO’s uncharacteristic reaction to the appearance of the chancellor. Besides, Twilight was confident that even if she had turned to glare at the major, she’d find that the other mare’s expression had been soured by the sight of the pony following along in Fancy Pants’ wake. The more cynical might find themselves wondering if Vice Chancellor Neighsay had been chosen as a running mate specifically based upon his looks. Or, more precisely: due to his lack of traditionally good looks. After all, at a glance, the unicorn following in Fancy Pants’ wake was just about everything that the chancellor was not. The dull gray stallion was spindly, with gaunt, angular features, and a mane and tail style that was best described as: “all of the pomade please”. Placing the walking perpetual scowl next to the chancellor only served to further emphasize how much closer to the ideal Fancy Pants was. However, by all accounts, the vice chancellor was indeed a competent politician and had almost certainly been selected because he could be counted on to help push Fancy Pants’ initiatives through the legislature. None of that changed the fact that the gray unicorn was an abrasive and thoroughly unpleasant pony to interact with. At least, according to what Twilight had heard from those unfortunate enough to make the vice chancellor’s acquaintance. “Oh, great…” This time the unsolicited comment was from Applejack. At first, Twilight wondered if the earth pony mare might have had a previous unpleasant interaction with Neighsay, but then she realized that her head of security’s reaction had only come once a third stallion stepped fully into view. The followup the orange mare mumbled under her breath confirmed that Applejack’s objection wasn’t to either of the unicorn dignitaries. “They brought a dern vamp…” While Twilight made a note about discussing her subordinate’s specific choice of terminology, she found herself mostly agreeing with the expressed sentiment as she saw the pony walking down the gangway in the wake of the unicorns. He was an older stallion with a slate-gray coat and short-cropped black mane. Wings were folded in against his sides. However, they weren’t composed of feathers like those of a typical pegasus. Rather, the stallion’s wings were leathery in appearance. Ears with excessively-long tufts of hair at their tips further confirmed the pony’s species as being a batpony, Equestria’s lesser known fourth pony type. Even within the borders of the pony nation, batponies weren’t all that common to see. They tended to be insular and keep to their communes in the mountains. That tendency to isolate was only further reinforced by the fact that, under Equestrian law, batponies were required to observe certain restrictions while out in public. The first was that batponies had to file down their fangs whenever they ventured down from their mountain homes. As Twilight understood it, those blunted fangs would regrow after a time if they were fully yanked out, so batponies did have an option for regaining their natural state if and when they returned home. The other major consideration was that batponies were required to wear thick sunglasses at all times while around non-batponies. The stallion trailing Fancy Pants and Neighsay was presently wearing such heavily tinted lenses right now. And while it was impossible to see the state of his teeth through his smug smirk at this very moment, Twilight had no reason to doubt that a batpony in the company of Equestia’s leaders wouldn’t be abiding by Equestrian law. “What inna…?” Captain Applejack managed to quash the rest of her breathless dismay, but only just barely. Twilight did a better job of masking her own shock, but that too was a near thing. A single batpony was an uncommon sight in Equestria. A whole squad of them being in one place was unheard of. Or, at least it had been unheard of. Until today. In the wake of the first tufted-eared stallion came another. Then a mare behind them. Then another. In all, seven batponies strode down the gangway off the Fleur De Lis, with six of them wearing deep purple flight suits trimmed with black. A patch with a winged skull was sewn onto their hips. Twilight didn’t recognize it. She also couldn’t tell if those other batponies were wearing the mandated tinted lenses through their lacquered flight helmets. It was possible that the headgear had tinting built into them, but the unicorn couldn’t tell from this distance. The fortress’ commander didn’t have much time to take a close look before the chancellor reached the pier though, and Twilight was forced to wrench her gaze away from the unusual sight of the flock of batponies and focus her attention fully on the guest of honor. The little purple mare snapped sharply to attention and took in a deep breath. “Ponies! Atten—shun!” The mare was encouraged to hear the chorus of booted hooves coming together behind her in near-perfect unison. She kept her amethyst eyes locked on Fancy Pants as the ivory unicorn stallion crossed the remaining distance between them on the docks. When he was just a few strides away, Twilight raised a foreleg and snapped it to her chest in a crisp salute. “Mister Chancellor, on behalf of my ponies, I would like to welcome you to Harmony Six.” The well-dressed stallion’s lips spread into a warm smile as he inclined his head slightly in Twilight’s direction. “Colonel Sparkle, thank you for the warm reception,” the chancellor said, speaking in the High Canterlot accent that so many of the capital’s career politicians seemed to favor. He glanced around, shifting slightly on his hooves as he briefly took in the sight of the gathered formations of uniformed ponies that made up the honor guard which had been assembled to welcome him. “As much as I’m grateful for the welcome,” he went on, favoring Twilight with a wry smirk, “I must admit that I’m even more grateful to finally have solid ground under my hooves. “Sailing halfway around the world is a far cry from enjoying an afternoon yachting around the lake, it turns out,” the stallion confided with a wink. While the chancellor had yet to actually return Twilight’s salute, the purple mare suspected that the other unicorn might not be wholly familiar with military etiquette. To the best of her knowledge, the chancellor had never served. Instead, she took his acknowledgement of her greeting as tacit permission to drop her own salute and continue on with the introductions. Twilight even permitted herself a commiserating quirk of her own lips as she recalled how her own voyage to the island had left her feeling. “It does feel like it can take a while to get used to the ground not heaving, doesn’t it, chancellor?” She extended her hoof towards Major Rarity. “May I introduce my executive officer, Major Rarity? While you’re on Harmony, she’ll be acting as your concierge. If there’s anything you or your staff need, she’ll be able to get it for you.” The ivory mare’s face was plastered with a broad smile that was something a little more than merely ‘warm’ as the major executed a modest bow in the chancellor’s direction. “Anything at all, Chancellor Fancy Pants,” Rarity echoed. Twilight wasn’t sure, but it sounded to her as though her XO’s accent had shifted just a bit to more closely align with the stallion’s own. “Please don’t hesitate to make any request; no matter how big or small. I’m also willing to show you around. I know all of the best restaurants on the island, including one that serves excellent Equestrian cuisine that will have you feeling like you’re back in Canterlot! “I’m certain that I can secure the two of us a reservation for a table any time you’d like,” Rarity went on. Twilight assumed that one of the major’s eyelashes had come off and fallen into her eye, going by the amount of blinking that the mare was engaged in just now. “Would this evening be too soon or—?” “—My head of security, Captain Applejack!” Twilight announced, taking back control of the conversation from her executive officer with perhaps just a tiny bit more volume than was strictly necessary. She gestured to the orange earth pony, who offered a slight nod of her head in the stallion’s direction. “She’ll be coordinating with your own security staff during your stay.” It was only now that Twilight became aware of the ponies that she hadn’t seen since the chancellor had gotten off the ship: the soldiers making up his protection detail. She looked back in the direction of the Fleur De Lis to see if any of those ponies might have disembarked while she’d been making introductions. It was easy enough to see that this wasn’t the case, as all of the ponies moving off the ship right now were obviously crew and porters. There wasn’t any sign of the ponies who should have been acting as bodyguards for Equestria’s leadership. Unless— The batpony stallion that had trotted off the ship just after Fancy Pants and Neighsay stepped forward now, his shaded gaze locked onto the orange earth pony. His smug smile became a little broader as he spoke. “Agent Nightshade, head of the Equestrian Bureau of Peace and Serenity.” He extended a leathery wing towards the earth pony in place of the customary hoof. The fortress’ head of security spent a few awkward moments hesitantly raising her own hoof as she contemplated how to accept the batpony’s offered greeting. Twilight thought Nightshade’s smile grew a little while as he watched Applejack fumble for those few seconds. “It looks like the two of us will be working together, captain.” “Ah’m lookin’ forward to it,” the orange mare managed to return in an even tone. “‘Equestrian Bureau of Peace and Serenity’?” Twilight said, seeking clarification from the newly-arrived dignitaries that she’d gotten the name correct. “I’m sorry, I don’t believe that I’ve ever heard of that particular agency before—” It was Vice-Chancellor Neighsay who spoke up now. “It’s a new initiative,” he explained. “At the moment, you’re looking at the entirety of its staff,” the dull gray unicorn admitted, a hoof gesturing in the direction of all seven batponies. “However, it will be growing quickly in the coming years as the agency is assigned additional responsibilities. “For now, the EBPS is charged with providing security for the chancellor and myself.” “...I see,” Twilight said. “Is there any particular reason that there aren’t any members of the Equestrian Cavalry assigned to the security detail? I’m sorry, I’m not trying to suggest that these ponies wouldn’t be up to the task,” the purple unicorn quickly hedged, indicating the uniformed batponies. “It’s just that, if they’re part of a civilian agency, I don’t want there to be any confusion when it comes to how the chain of command works while they’re working with our own soldiers.” “There won’t be any confusion,” Neighsay insisted, “because Agent Nightshade answers directly to me—,” the vice-chancellor abruptly coughed and cleared his throat. “My apologies: the agent and his team report directly to myself and Chancellor Fancy Pants. Any instructions from him should be treated no differently than instructions from either of us.” The little purple unicorn opened her mouth, on the cusp of pointing out that there was a technical violation of the chain of command that the vice chancellor might not be aware of. Fancy Pants enjoyed a position as the head of the executive branch of the Equestrian government, and that granted the stallion unilateral control of the military through his chosen generals. However, that was the pathway that any instructions from the chancellor were supposed to take: from himself, through his generals, and then to herself. Or, under unique circumstances like this, Fancy Pants could directly order Twilight—or really any officer—to do whatever he wanted. That really wasn’t an issue. However, there was an issue when a civilian was used as the relay for his orders. Nightshade wasn’t an officer. He didn’t hold a commission that placed him over Twilight or any of her staff. Legally, the agent couldn’t tell Applejack to do anything. Even if what the batpony was telling her to do did come directly from the chancellor. That was why the chancellor usually traveled with members of the Cavalry on his staff: to act as that official bridge with the local military commanders. On the other hoof, Twilight supposed that there wasn’t really a reason to make a big deal of this. Agent Nightshade’s requests would be in the best interests of the chancellor’s safety, and Twilight hardly expected Fancy Pants to have to seek her out directly every time he wanted her to do something. It was a minimal violation of the regulations, and temporary besides. “Of course, Mister Vice Chancellor,” Colonel Twilight finally said, nodding her head at Neighsay. The purple unicorn decided that it was likely best to move the welcome along. “If you’re feeling up to it, chancellor,” she said, looking back at Fancy Pants now, “a reception has been prepared for you at the North Garden?” She held the questioning note in case the chancellor decided that he’d prefer to recover from his voyage. “That sounds positively lovely, colonel.” Fancy Pants glanced at the unicorn stallion standing beside him. “Are you up for it, Neighsay?” “Actually, Mister Chancellor, if it’s all the same to you, I’d rather get settled into my temporary office and prepare for the inspection.” Twilight’s ears perked up upon hearing the last word. “Inspection?” The mare was fairly certain that she’d kept the level of dread in her voice down to a minimum. “I wasn’t told that there’d be an inspection, sir.” She managed—somehow—not to glare in Major Rarity’s direction. The other unicorn had stopped her from performing another review of the fortress after all. So if the chancellor found anything out of regulations— Fancy Pants already had a placating hoof in the air, waving away Twilight’s concerns. “Relax, colonel, it’s not the sort of ‘inspection’ that you’re likely thinking of. We’re not looking for anything that you’ve done wrong,” he assured her before chuckling to himself. “Quite the contrary, in fact. We’re looking for anything that we’ve done wrong!” “Sir?” “Harmony Six is the first fortress of its kind to manage to actually complete construction and remain in operation for any worthwhile length of time,” the chancellor explained, his smile taking on a slightly more sardonic look to it now. “While Equestria’s engineers and top minds spent a considerable amount of time trying to design an island fortress that would meet the expectations that a place like Harmony Six has on it, I suspect that I don’t need to explain to you, colonel, how theory only takes a pony so far. “One of the primary reasons for our visit is so that Neighsay and I can see what needs to be done in order to let Harmony Six perform its function to the utmost of its ability. “For example,” the chancellor said, gesturing out towards the surrounding sea. “I noticed quite a few ships that were anchored outside the fortress’ docks. Would I be correct in assuming that they’re waiting for a pier to become available? And would I also be correct in assuming that it’s fairly typical to have that many ships waiting to be attended to?” “Um, yes, Mister Chancellor,” Twilight acknowledged. “But I assure you that the dockworkers are doing everything that they can to move ships along—” The unicorn would have continued, but was silenced by a raised hoof from the taller unicorn stallion. “As I said, colonel: I’m not here to place any blame on you or your ponies for any shortcomings which can clearly be better attributed to the fortress’ design,” Fancy Pants said. “Obviously the biggest issue is that Harmony Six is simply seeing more traffic than its designers anticipated. That’s hardly something that you can be blamed for now is it, colonel?” “No, sir,” Twilight conceded. “Then that’s something that the vice chancellor and I need to see gets addressed.” Fancy Pants looked at the gray unicorn in question. “Neighsay, let’s go ahead and make a note of that: have the engineers back home see if there’d be any way to increase the dock space.” “Of course, Mister Chancellor.” Neighsay’s horn lit with a peach aura and extracted a notebook from his saddlebag. A quill jotted down a brief entry before both were returned to the compartment on his side. He then looked to Major Rarity. “Now, if I can be shown where we’ll be quartered during our stay, major?” “Yes, Mister Vice Chancellor,” the white unicorn mare said, indicating for Neighsay to follow her. Two of the uniformed batponies followed in their wake, along with a few of Harmony’s own soldiers. Fancy Pants favored Twilight with another of the winning smiles that had likely played a role in getting him votes from mares like Major Rarity. “Now, I believe that there was mention of a reception in a garden?” Their small procession walked through the fortress. Twilight had actually elected to take the chancellor on a more roundabout path so that he could see some of the more notable sights of the island. Captain Applejack and Agent Nightshade trailed a short distance behind her and the chancellor. A few of the earth pony mare’s MPs had arranged themselves into something of a perimeter around their group, while the four members of Nightshade’s squad that hadn’t gone with Vice Chancellor Neighsay leisurely circled overhead. Twilight wondered if any of the others felt the same deep-seated sense of unease about the dark bat-winged forms hovering above them like vultures. “—Harmony Six has become a thriving center for commerce,” Twilight was explaining as they walked. “Which is impressive, given the short time that it’s been in operation. While the island itself doesn’t host many local industries, it is an ideal anchorage for ships crossing between the surrounding continents. The customs duties have allowed us to be almost entirely self-sufficient.” “Something that I’ve been lording over parliament every time one of my political opponents moves to try and cancel the Harmony Project,” Fancy Pants said with a pleased nod. “And, as we both noted earlier: you’d be able to collect even more of those duties if you had more dock space. It wouldn’t shock me if Harmony ended up turning a profit in another couple of years! “Not that this was ever meant to be a source of real revenue for Equestria,” the unicorn stallion acknowledged. “But, if Harmony Six starts to operate ‘cost free’ to Equestria, it’ll make expending the bits to build additional such fortresses more palatable to the public.” “Other Harmony Fortresses, sir?” Twilight ventured. The notion admittedly perplexed the mare a little. As she understood it, the island was chiefly intended to serve as neutral ground for the representatives of the nations of the world to meet and negotiate with each other. Having multiple such diplomatic enclaves all over the world seemed redundant. In fact, it might even undermine the mission of bringing peace. What happened if the delegations on two different islands reached conflicting agreements with each other? “That’s admittedly more Neighsay’s brainchild than my own,” Fancy Pants said. “He envisions Equestrian outposts scattered around the globe that would allow us to better coordinate with our allies in maintaining the peace,” he explained. “Frankly, I think that’s a smashing idea. “It’ll mean expanding Equestria’s military a good bit, so that we can provide all of those additional fortresses with the proper expeditionary forces to support them and whatever peacekeeping efforts might be required, but that’s a ways off in the future, I think. “For right now, I want to focus on making Harmony Six the shining example of peace and cooperation it can be.” He looked around them at the bustling market stalls lining the street that they were walking down. “Just like this!” The chancellor’s eyes suddenly went wide. Twilight was about to ask him what was wrong when his expression became almost giddy. He pointed a hoof and leaned in towards Twilight in order to whisper in her ear. “Look at that: a dragon and a griffon! Walking together!” Twilight turned to follow where Fancy Pants was pointing. She’d had a pretty good idea of what she was going to find and so wasn’t entirely surprised to see the speckled gray griffon hen and the little purple drake walking into a restaurant together. She’d seen the two diplomatic aides in each others’ company a time or two outside of the Council Chamber. The purple mare didn’t know the details of their relationship with each other, but she did recognize that the pair were much more level-headed than their respective ambassadors. Most Council meetings ended with Twilight desperately wondering why those two couldn’t have been the representatives for their races. “I see that this project is already making historic strides!” The little purple mare opened her mouth…and then closed it again. As much as Twilight wanted to point out to the chancellor that Spike and Gabriella’s apparent friendship was an aberration, rather than anything approaching a common occurrence…she also wanted the chancellor to recognize that Harmony was a project worth being continued. Besides, for all Twilight knew, the only reason that those two were friends was because of Harmony Six. So, in that way, Fancy Pants wasn’t wrong… “The dragons and griffons are talking with each other a lot more,” Twilight said with deliberately chosen words. Yelling was a form of talking. The little purple mare could feel the weight of Captain Applejack’s stare behind her. “I’ve heard that they’re shooting at each other a lot more too,” Agent Nightshade chimed in, his smirk remaining as insufferable as it had been since he’d stepped off the Fleur De Lis. Twilight winced slightly. “Technically,” the mare carefully countered, “no forces formally acknowledged to be aligned with either government have exchanged fire with each other.” “Not every member of any given race is a part of that race’s recognized government,” Fancy Pants acknowledged, looking back over his shoulder at the batpony stallion. “There are pony pirates in the world too,” the chancellor pointed out. “Indeed there are, chancell—” The rest of the leather-winged pony’s response was interrupted by his collision with a cyan earth pony stallion who’d apparently not been paying attention to where he was walking. Both of the ponies involved stumbled and a number of items fell to the ground, to include several boxes that the earth pony had been carrying and Nightshade’s sunglasses. “Oh! Goodness, I am so sorry!” The earth pony launched into an almost instantaneous apology. “I wasn’t paying attention, which I obviously should have been,” he went on to offer by way of acknowledging fault. “Especially with how busy it is around here! I was just in a hurry to get back home and—oh, wow! Is that the chancellor?! Chancellor Fancy Pants! I don’t suppose I can—” Nightshade whipped his head around and glared at the cyan stallion standing near him. His self-satisfied smirk was nowhere to be seen now. In its place was a seething snarl that exposed his blunted fangs. Furious blood-red eyes glared at the earth pony. “Shut. Up.” The cyan stallion’s mouth instantaneously slammed closed with an audible click. The pony visibly recoiled away from the batpony, his own fearful green eyes locked onto the agent’s. Above them, the rest of Nightshade’s squad had descended closer to the group that they were escorting. They didn’t land or take direct action. They simply hovered and watched the head of their nascent bureau deal with the intruder. Nightshade kept his unblinking gaze locked onto the earth pony. “Grab your shit and leave. Now.” The other stallion nodded slowly before gathering his fallen property back up onto his back and hurriedly trotting away without a word. The batpony watched him leave for several more seconds before letting out an annoyed huff of air and scooping up his sunglasses with a wing. He carefully slipped the tinted lenses back over his eyes, but not before he’d flicked his gaze in Twilight’s direction for a brief moment. It was a faint sensation, and brief besides. The little unicorn had to wonder if most would have noticed it at all. She’d spent time in university learning about various charms and potions which could influence a pony and how to defend against them. Part of that education had necessitated being subjected to those very charms in the interests of recognizing when she was potentially being magically influenced. The mare perceived the sensation as pressure. Something pressing down on her mind in an effort to suborn it to another’s will. Twilight had become keenly sensitive to the feeling during her studies. To the point where she’d been able to feel the telltale signs of a caster preparing to make the attempt. To her, it wasn’t unlike a pony using their hoof to gauge the sturdiness of the ice covering a lake. She’d felt that tentative hoof pushing down on her just now, when Nightshade’s gaze had briefly met her own. Just a slight pressure, lightly applied…and gone the instant the tinted lenses blocked his crimson irises from sight. “Are you quite alright, agent?” Fancy Pants inquired. The smirk was back on the batpony’s face as he regarded the unicorn stallion. “I’m fine, Mister Chancellor. No harm done.” He glanced up at the still-hovering flight of batponies and flicked his wing at them. The four fliers immediately climbed back into the air and resumed their lazy circling. “T-this way, Chancellor Fancy Pants,” Twilight said, shrugging off the passing sensation that she’d felt. “I think that you’ll find Cowtown—er, I mean: Zone Four—interesting.” As the purple unicorn led their procession, Captain Applejack shifted the positions within their little herd until she was trotting beside Twilight and Nightshade was with the chancellor. “Y’alright, colonel? Y’looked a might spooked fer jus’ a moment—” “I’m fine.” The second the words were out of her mouth, the mare knew that they’d been said too quickly to be easily believed. Her head of security raised a patient brow and waited for the inevitable correction that was going to follow when a pony was caught in that blatant of a lie. “I’m okay,” Twilight tried again, doing a better job of sounding like she meant it. “Really.” “...Alright. If’n y’say so.” Applejack didn’t press the matter after that, for which the unicorn was grateful. The rest of the tour that afternoon passed without any additional incidents. The chancellor was simultaneously thrilled that so many species had made Harmony Six their home, but also a little disappointed that the residents had more or less segregated themselves into distinct sections of the fortress. Twilight managed to satisfactorily explain that it was a bare minimum of segregation, and only because the physical differences between the races made total residential integration the next best thing to impossible. A minotaur was never going to be comfortable living in an apartment building designed for ponies, and vice-versa. Griffons only felt comfortable nesting up high along the island’s central mountain, but there wasn’t any way you were going to convince a Saddle Arabian to stay up at that altitude for any longer than was absolutely necessary. There were some overlapping species, of course: pegasi and hippogriffs didn’t generally mind being neighbors with griffons. Diamond dogs, minotaurs, and dragons enjoyed the same dark cavernous spaces dug into the mountain. Besides, whatever each species might prefer when it came to where they slept, they all would hang out and shop in many of the same areas. In that way, Harmony had very much succeeded in creating a place where every species of the planet could associate. At least, every species that wasn’t on the brink of war with one another… A leader of one of the internationally-recognized Great Powers paying the island a visit wasn’t a minor affair. It was also, in many ways, a de facto ‘diplomatic function’. While Chancellor Fancy Pants wasn’t on Harmony for the purpose of negotiating treaties, it wouldn’t do to have the elected leader of ponykind not tap hooves and shake hands with the ambassadors of the other races represented on the island. As a result, the reception in the garden that afternoon was attended by just about every dignitary who could attend… …With two notable exceptions. It had not been the most pleasant conversation in the world that Twilight could recall having. Both times she’d needed to have it. Neither Ambassador Gilda nor Ember had been initially receptive to the idea of getting ‘snubbed’ by being excluded from the party. Which, the unicorn was forced to acknowledge, was fair: the griffons and dragons were two of the five premiere powers on the planet. It should be looked at as a slight to forbid them from attending. And so Twilight hadn’t. Technically. What she had done—and what the chancellor had agreed to in order to make the fortress commander’s plan work—was let Gilda and Ember know that, if both of them turned out to simply be ‘too busy’ to attend the garden reception because of prior commitments, then Fancy Pants would be more than happy to attend any function that the griffon or dragon ambassador might happen to want to host at a later date—provided both ambassadors didn’t try and double-book the chancellor. Fortunately, both of the ambassadors had agreed to the compromise, which meant that neither they—nor their aides—were in attendance today. Which—hopefully—meant that the party wouldn’t end the same way that far too many of the Council sessions did: with a screaming match that threatened to devolve into a fistfight. Ambassadors Celestia and Zecora were in attendance though. The first fifteen minutes of the party had been taken up with Fancy Pants and the zebra posing for pictures together, along with a short speech for the benefit of the press about how grateful Equestria was for the help of their Zebrican allies in launching the Harmony Project. Once all of the reporters had been—mostly—satisfied, the reception had been able to begin in earnest, kicked off with a flyby and aerobatic show put on by Captain Rainbow Dash and her Wonderbolt Squadron. For Colonel Twilight, this show represented both the first time that she’d seen the prismatic pegasus in the company of her squadron as well as the only time the unicorn had been able to clearly see the captain while she was in the air. Normally, all that Twilight was able to perceive was a rainbow-patterned contrail streaking around the island. To the squadron commander’s credit, she was a talented flier. The rest of her premiere squadron were also obviously quite skilled as well, and the performance that they put on for the chancellor and his delegation was met with resounding applause from all of the attendees. The applause was only just starting to peter out when Rainbow Dash landed and hastily discarded her combat harness at the edge of the garden, all in an effort to bask in the adoration of her performance’s fans up close. The rigid metal rigging, which was intended to provide a pegasus flier with some moderate protection, as well as mounting pylons for dropped explosives, was collected up by the squadron’s flight crewponies for transport back to the island’s aerie. Twilight watched as the cerulean mare picked up a small stack of napkins in her wing and started to mark them with her hoofprint, passing out the impromptu ‘autographs’ to every creature that she passed on her way over to the chancellor. The purple unicorn felt some of the muscles in her face come within a tail hair of straining as she fought to keep her expression pleasantly neutral while watching the winged-embodiment of ego present one of the hoof-marked napkins to Fancy Pants, a self-satisfied grin plastered across her muzzle. “Here you go, Mister Chancellor!” Rainbow said, holding the napkin out to the unicorn stallion. “A personal autograph from the Rainbow Dash! Wouldn’t want you to have come all the way out here just to leave empty-hoofed.” The mare finished with a wink at the taller pony. So help me if this mare is trying to flirt with him too, Twilight thought to herself, struggling to suppress a long-suffering sigh. It was bad enough when it was just the major… Fortunately for the purple mare, Fancy Pants hadn’t won the last election just by having a more popular political platform. He was also exceptionally personable. The ivory stallion graciously accepted the cloth napkin and even went so far as to appear as though he was genuinely admiring it. “Well, I must say that that was some of the best-coordinated flying that I’ve ever seen. What was that last maneuver at the end?” “I call it the Rainbow Blaze!” The pegasus mare proudly announced, her expression the perfect image of a satisfied smirk. She pretended to polish her hoof against her flight suit. “It’s my own personal invention. An awesome flier needs an awesome finale, right?” “Indeed,” Fancy Pants conceded with a slight nod. His telekinesis stashed the napkin inside his jacket. “You know, there’s a squadron that operates out of the capital that does a lot of performances for the public. I think you might have the talent that they’re looking for.” Twilight tried not to keep her eyes from widening too visibly. On the one hoof, she didn’t want to believe that Rainbow’s forthright approach had actually worked. On the other, the little purple unicorn was trying not to look hopeful at the prospect of the undisciplined flier being taken off her hooves without the need to make the transfer request herself. “Only if you’re going to transfer the rest of my flight with me,” the chromatic-maned pegasus replied without even a hint of sarcasm. The response left both Twilight and the chancellor dumbfounded. “I beg your pardon, captain?” “Excuse me?!” Twilight covered her mouth with her hoof and flushed, not having intended to give voice to her own incredulity. If the chancellor had noticed it, he gave no sign. Instead he tried to get further elaboration from the pegasus. “Your whole flight?” “Well…yeah?” Rainbow replied, as though the reasoning behind her request should have been obvious. Either she soon realized that her personal thought process wasn’t obvious, or she just liked hearing herself talk. In either case, the flier deigned to go on. “When I got assigned to Harmony Six, I told all my ponies that I was going to turn them into the most elite squadrons in all of Equestria; and I meant it! Do you know how many months of work I’ve put into those ponies?” Rainbow Dash flicked a wing in the vague direction of the location in the sky where her squadron’s performance had taken place. “It’s not like that routine came together overnight, or that I did it all on my own.” Twilight Sparkle was unable to keep her brows from rising in noticeable surprise upon hearing what passed for an uncharacteristic amount of humility from the pegasus— “I mean, as awesome as I am on my own, I look even more awesome with talented ponies backing me up!” The purple unicorn closed her eyes and suppressed a sigh, mentally chastising herself for getting her hopes up. “Once I’m done whipping the rest of my ponies into the best fliers possible,” the pegasus went on, “then I’ll take a transfer to Canterlot. But, until then: I don’t walk out on my ponies, Mister Chancellor.” Rainbow Dash flashed Fancy Pants a broad grin. “But I’ll let you know when my ponies are finally ready to fly on their own without my awesomeness to guide them so that you can offer me that transfer again.” “Well, since I believe that the good Colonel Sparkle here would be quite put out if I took all of her squadrons away from her on such short notice, I suppose that the ponies of Equestria will just have to wait to behold your ‘awesomeness’, Captain Dash,” Fancy Pants said, sounding sincere enough that Twilight found herself wondering whether or not the career politician really did mean it or not. “Do let me know when you believe your work is done here. If I’m still in office, that is,” the unicorn added with a wry smile of his own. Rainbow Dash positively beamed before saluting with a flick of her wing. “Will do, Chancellor Pants!” It was at this time that Vice Chancellor Neighsay returned to the group, having apparently concluded a conversation with a member of the donkey delegation. Agent Nightshade was trotting at the pale gray unicorn stallion’s side. The lens-covered eyes looked over at the still-preening Rainbow Dash. “Not a bad performance, little filly. I’ll admit that you have some decent skills for somepony flying out here in the middle of nowhere.” His smug was back in full force. “Makes a pony wonder what must have gone wrong to keep you from getting a post in Equestria?” The pegasus mare’s expression instantly soured at the words: ‘little filly’. Violet eyes narrowed at the batpony. Twilight felt a brief burst of camaraderie with the cerulean flier as she too gave the leathery-winged stallion a cool look. Nightshade was quite clearly trying to suggest that a posting to Harmony Fortress was an indication of ill-favour within Equestria’s military. Obviously that was as far from the case as possible. After all, one of the project’s biggest proponents, the chancellor himself, was standing right here! “Agent—” Whatever else Chancellor Fancy Pants might have been about to say to the batpony by way of rebuke was overrun by Rainbow Dash’s own indignant retort. “I’ll have you know I was given my choice of posts, bugeyes!” The mare bristled, puffing her chest out at the taller stallion deriding her. “Flight leaders all over Equestria were begging me to fly with them!” “Captain Dash—” Twilight tried, but with just as much success in reigning things in as the chancellor had had. “Oh, really?” Nightshade didn’t appear to react at all to the mare’s posturing, barely even appearing to look in her direction as he spoke. “Because the stack of demerits thickening your academy file suggest that they were more likely to be begging you to fly away from them.” Rainbow Dash recoiled from the stallion as though she’d been physically slapped. Her eyes widened in brief panic. “You looked at my—?” The mare shook her head and rallied in short order, though she didn’t come off sounding nearly as confident as she had just a few seconds ago. “Everypony has demerits in their training file!” She insisted. Twilight decided that this would be an ill-advised time to hold up her own spotless record as a counter to the assertion and stayed quiet. “But everypony doesn’t set academy speed records,” the squadron commander said with a satisfied huff, finally managing to get her own smug smile in place. “I saw your records,” the batpony almost conceded. “I also saw that they were signed off on by the same stallion every time. Not a bad looking stallion for his age,” Nightshade went on. Rainbow Dash was regarding him with a look of confusion at the apparent nonsequitur. “I saw pictures of his wife too. Recent and older photos. Coloration’s off, but you definitely have her body type.” Twilight saw where the agent was going with his comments now. It looked like Rainbow Dash hadn’t quite made the connection yet though by the time the batpony’s smile broadened into a taunting grin. “What do you really raise faster: your altitude? Or your tail…?” The pegasus’ indignant rage manifested in a fraction of a second. “You fucking bas—!” “That will be quite enough, Agent!” The Equestrian chancellor’s earlier jovial expression was gone now. The unicorn stallion was glaring at the batpony, while Twilight had also subtly interposed herself just in front of her flight commander in order to keep the pegasus from doing anything that might result in paperwork needing to be filed. For his part, Nightshade didn’t look the least bit cowed by his superior’s rebuke. He kept his tinted lenses fixed on the scowling Rainbow Dash as he spoke. “Just conducting a brief staff evaluation, Mister Chancellor,” the batpony said. “This is the mare in charge of a significant portion of Harmony Six’s defenses after all. “If she can’t keep her cool during a simple conversation, then how reliable can she be expected to be during an actual crisis?” ‘Simple conversation’? Colonel Twilight Sparkle was glaring at the batpony stallion. Nightshade had admitted to baiting the pegasus captain, which explained why he’d been saying those things; but the little purple unicorn still didn’t fully understand what the point of it was supposed to be. He was a civilian who worked for an agency unconnected with the Harmony Project—so far as Twilight knew, anyway—to say nothing of the cavalry as a whole. So what interest could he possibly have in ‘evaluating’ her staff? “While Agent Nightshade’s methods might not be as polished as they could be,” Vice Chancellor Neighsay chimed in, drawing the attention of everypony else nearby, “he does make a valid point that we should want only the best and most suitable ponies managing an installation as important to Equestrian interests as this fortress.” “Oh, I’m the ‘best’ all right!” Rainbow Dash insisted through what wasn’t quite a snarl that was directed at the offending batpony standing in front of her. “And if Agent Nightsoil here doesn’t think that I earned my records, then I have no problem giving him a demonstration right here and now!” “Captain Dash—” Twilight tried, only to have the batpony interrupt her again. “What are you proposing, little filly?” “A race. Three laps around the fortress, following the shoal buoys,” Rainbow Dash declared. Twilight noted the slight broadening of the batpony stallion’s smile before he nodded. “Alright then. I don’t mind seeing if you have the wings to back up that mouth of yours, captain,” Nightshade said, flexing his leathery wings in anticipation of the imminent flight. He cast a quick look at the vice chancellor, seeking tacit permission. The gaunt gray unicorn nodded. Beside them both, Chancellor Fancy Pants sighed but made no effort to stop either pony. The expression on his face suggested that a conversation away from prying eyes was going to be had later on the matter. If neither of Equestria’s leaders were going to object to the race, then Twilight was hardly going to take action either. Honestly, there was a part of her that very much looked forward to seeing the batpony humbled a little after the remarks that he’d made regarding both the pegasus and herself, even if some of them had been made more obliquely than others. Harmony Six might be as far away from Equestria proper as one could get, and it was certainly a less traditionally prestigious posting than, say, Canterlot or Manehattan, but that didn’t make this assignment unimportant. So the purple unicorn took a step back, getting out from between the pegasus and batpony. The pair maneuvered into position, side-by-side, in order to begin their declared race. Rainbow Dash’s narrowed gaze never broke away from Nightshade’s tinted lenses. While it was impossible to see the batpony’s eyes though the smoky glass, his smug smile never wavered as he crouched down beside the cerulean mare and flared his wings in preparation for the race. “Colonel?” The leathery-winged pony prompted, still not looking away from Rainbow Dash. “If you’d do the honors?” Twilight’s lips pulled into a slight frown, but she accepted the impromptu designation as the officiator of the race and took up a position that let her observe that both racers were in line with each other. “Racers: on your marks!” Both fliers tensed. Wings flared. “Get set!” The two ponies coiled their legs in preparation to push off into the sky. “Go!” Twilight Sparkle and the pair of Equestrian leaders all winced away from the sudden intense backblast of air as two sets of powerful wings beat down and propelled the winged ponies into the sky. The little purple unicorn lit her horn to magically clear away the worst of the dust and looked on after the fliers. Much to her own chagrin, she noted that Nightshade was actually managing to keep up with the pegasus mare. For now anyway. She didn’t expect that fact to endure for long though. “Do Ah even want t’know?” Captain Applejack’s bored drawl drew the colonel’s attention and she turned to see her head of security approaching, having apparently completed her check of the garden’s perimeter. “Just some friendly inter-agency competition, captain,” Vice Chancellor Neighsay answered for Twilight. “Nothing to be concerned about.” The fortress’ commander resisted the urge to correct her superior’s ‘mischaracterization’ of earlier events. She’d have more than enough time to fill Applejack in on the specifics of Nightshade and Rainbow Dash’s interaction later. “Yeah, about that: Ah’ve been wantin’ to ask y’all about this new Equestrian Bureau of Peace and Serenity,” the orange earth pony mare began. “Why exactly is it that they’re suddenly in charge of security fer y’all? Ah thought that was a cavalry duty?” Twilight suppressed a wince at the prospect of another of her subordinates bluntly confronting the chancellor and vice chancellor. In the unicorn’s opinion, there was a time, place, and manner for inquiring about political decisions. This reception wasn’t it. On the other hoof, the colonel couldn’t deny that she was also quite curious to hear the answer. If the captain’s question was impertinent, neither politician gave any indication. If anything, Neighsay seemed almost eager to answer it. “While security for Equestria’s leadership has, traditionally, been the responsibility of the military,” the vice chancellor conceded with a nod, “it’s the opinion of the chancellor and I that our recent war with the zebras has shifted public perception of the cavalry. “Curfews, rationing, conscription,” the gray-coated unicorn listed off, “while the martial law measures Equestria undertook during the war were certainly necessary for the continued survival of ponykind, one cannot deny that it colored the perception of a soldier’s role among the common pony. You were our valiant defenders, of course,” Neighsay said, giving Twilight and Applejack an almost reverent bow as he made the acknowledgement, “but ponies wearing your uniforms were also the ones who took food from the mouths of civilians, or carried away loved ones to fight on the front lines. “Nopony is out to cast our courageous ponies in uniform as any sort of villain; but there’s no denying that the less-flattering realities and perceptions linger.” Neighsay’s gaze lingered on Applejack’s modified uniform and he gave the earth pony mare a knowing nod. “I believe that you’ve recognized this as well: ponies don’t like seeing soldiers looming over them as they go about their lives. It reminds them too much of what things were like while the war was going on. “So, the chancellor and I decided that it was perhaps best if we created an agency with the chartered goal of helping Equestria’s ponies to feel safer and more at peace. Hence the EBPS. And, as a first step in calming ponies’ minds, we’ve delegated the chancellor’s and my safety to them; so that we can walk around among our ponies without them having to see soldiers hovering around them.” The vice chancellor nodded upwards in the direction of the duo of batponies that were presently lazily circling overhead. Twilight and Applejack exchanged looks. Nothing that the unicorn stallion had said was too different from the orange mare’s own expressed rationale for having the ponies under her command adopt uniforms that were more reminiscent of civilian law enforcement. Of course, her change had just been to the uniform. Those ponies were still very much soldiers. Neighsay had taken things a step further. Though that didn’t mean that it was a bad thing. Applejack then glanced up at the fliers overhead. “Are they all batponies?” “Yes,” Neighsay confirmed with another nod. “The EBPS will be staffed exclusively by batponies.” This got the full attention of both Harmony officers. Neither pair even noticed Rainbow Dash and Nightsahde zooming by beyond the garden bastion, marking the completion of the first lap of their race. Restricting participation in an agency to a single kind of pony was done only in very specific cases. For example: the Weather Bureau was staffed by pegasi. Of course, this was because of the fact that only pegasi could effectively manipulate and control the weather. It simply wasn’t something that an earth pony or unicorn could do, and so employing them wasn’t practical. However, Twilight was having a hard time believing that helping ponies feel safe was something that only batponies had the skills to accomplish. “Is there any particular reason for that, vice chancellor?” The purple mare ventured cautiously. She wasn’t in the habit of questioning the decisions of her superiors after all. “Because while acting as our security will be one of their more public responsibilities, it won’t be the agency’s primary duty,” the unicorn stallion explained without any hint of reservation. “Their mandate will be to evaluate ponies in positions of trust and leadership in order to make certain that they are serving the best interests of the Equestrian ponies, and not themselves. They will also be tasked with seeking out ponies in distress so that they can be given the counseling and care that they need. “The war left some lasting scars on the psyches of Equestrians. I’m sure you’re aware of some examples, colonel.” Neighsay said with a nod in the purple mare’s direction. Twilight gave a slight nod of her own head but very carefully didn’t say anything aloud. She most certainly didn’t think about White Tail. There had been a smell that lingered in the air for the next few days. Twilight had trouble walking near residences inhabited by dragons to this day— Twilight sharply inhaled to bring herself back to the present, grateful to have apparently not missed anything that the vice chancellor had been saying. “Batpony magic is uniquely qualified to identify both ponies who don’t have Equestria’s best interests at heart as well as those who aren’t serving their own personal best interests.” Applejack’s expression hardened. When she spoke, it was with a tenseness that Twilight recognized. The mare sounded much like she had when Twilight had asked her for that ‘revised’ report. The earth pony wasn’t happy, to say the least. Twilight was grateful that she at least did a better job of veiling her displeasure than Rainbow Dash had. “Y’all’re takin’ about Enthrallin’, aren’t’cha?” Fancy Pants cleared his throat, entering the conversation once more. His slightly uneasy expression indicated that he had the grace to acknowledge why Applejack might have objections to Neighsay’s proposal. “It goes without saying that the EBPS will be abiding by strict regulatory guidelines when it comes to when—and especially upon whom—they can exert their influence,” the white unicorn stallion assured the mares. “Obviously,” Neighsay agreed without hesitation. “Our goal isn’t to intrude upon the personal lives of our ponies. But I’m sure that both of you agree that it is essential that Equestria be safeguarded against any threats; even those from within. “Especially in such perilous times.” This time Twilight did note Rainbow Dash and Nightshade flying past. The pegasus mare had achieved a respectable lead over the stallion. If the present topic of conversation weren’t so concerning, the unicorn mare might have smiled. Twilight raised a curious brow as she looked back at Neighsay. “‘Perilous times’, Mister Vice Chancellor?” “Oh course, colonel! How else would you describe the current rising tensions between the griffons and the dragons?” The unicorn asked, his tone suggesting a rhetorical nature to the question. For her part, the purple unicorn cringed, acknowledging that relations between the two were fairly steadily deteriorating. The last intelligence reports that the mare had seen suggested that the dragons had wasted no time in further fortifying Rock Haven Island. There was now a fairly massive military presence on the island. Ambassador Gilda claimed that the dragons intended to use the island as a forward base of operations in order to launch additional military actions against the griffons. Meanwhile, Ambassador Ember insisted that they were merely ensuring that the dragons would be able to continue their anti-piracy efforts in the region. In case there were any other bands of ‘raiders’ present on other islands in the archipelago. “Ponies are nervous,” Neighsay continued. “It’s understandable, given the prospect of a possible war between two races. One of whom might even call upon our aid!” Twilight’s lips pursed now. She glanced between the two stallions, her expression a mixture of confusion and concern. “I wasn’t aware that we had a mutual defense pact with either the Griffonian Republic or the Dragon Lands…?” “We don’t,” Fancy Pants assured the mare. “But it’s common knowledge that the griffons aided Equestria during our war with the zebras,” Neighsay pointed out. “Founded or not, it is understandable that ponies might jump to the conclusion that Equestria will get involved in a possible war between the griffons and dragons. That has some ponies on edge. Our intention is to use the EBPS to seek out any misinformed ponies spreading dangerous rumors like that and…correct their unfounded assumptions.” The gray unicorn smiled warmly and looked between both mares. “We can’t have ponies spreading lies now, can we? Even if those ponies don’t mean to be malicious about it.” Applejack’s lips were still pulled in a tight line. “...Ah s’ppose not,” she agreed. “Ah’m jus’ not so sure about letting batponies Enthrall ponies to go about it,” the earth pony reiterated. “Ah thought there were laws about compellin’ testimony and such?” Neighsay’s smile didn’t falter as he dismissed the captain’s concerns with an idle wave of his hoof. “I assure you, captain, it isn’t the chancellor’s or my goal to imprison ponies for merely jumping to mistaken conclusions!” The stallion even permitted himself an amused chuckle at the absurdity of the notion. “We simply believe it’s in the best interests of all Equestrians for any troubling lies to be tracked back to their source as quickly as possible so that the ponies spreading them to be educated on the facts. “Surely you don’t see anything objectionable about that?” “...The idea certainly sounds noble,” Applejack carefully conceded. Fancy Pants cleared his throat once more. “I understand that there might be misgivings—I even share them, I assure you—which is why I promise that the protocols for the EBPS will be crafted carefully. The agency won’t receive its mandate to start those kinds of operations until my full cabinet and I are satisfied that we’ve managed to properly balance the security of Equestria against the rights of our ponies.” He shared a meaningful look with his vice chancellor, getting a nod from the other unicorn stallion. “I’m certainly grateful to hear that, Mister Chancellor,” Twilight said. Her ear flicked as she picked up the sound of furiously flapping wings. She and the other ponies nearby turned in time to see Rainbow Dash and Nightshade turning into their final approach, diving towards the spot on the ground that they’d taken off from earlier. The purple unicorn allowed herself a smile upon seeing that the pegasus had achieved a commanding lead over the EBPS agent. There would be no doubt about who’d won the race between them. “Well done, Captain Dash,” she declared, permitting herself to execute a short congratulatory stomping of applause as the cerulean mare alighted gracefully in front of them. Her lips spread into a lightly smug expression of her own as she watched the trailing batpony stallion flying in after her. “It looks like you barely even worked up a sweat.” This much was undeniably an exaggeration, as Rainbow Dash was visibly breathing hard, and her coat visible above the collar of her flight suit was noticeably matted with perspiration. However, Twilight decided to permit herself the fib if it might mean annoying the batpony a little more. Much to the unicorn mare’s slight annoyance, Agent Nightshade didn’t look all that disappointed that he’d lost the race, and not by a little either. The leather-winged stallion slipped into a gentle glide the rest of the way to the ground. Once he’d finally landed, he used a wingtip to nudge one of his tinted lenses back into place from where it had shifted slightly during flight. His expression seemed fairly passive, and his lips maintained their cocky tilt. “Not bad, filly. I guess you can manage to fly in circles at least.” Rainbow Dash glared at the stallion and let out an annoyed snort in his direction before accepting the praise from her commander. “There wasn’t even a question that I’d win, ma’am,” the mare said, giving Twilight a brief salute with her wing. “A truly impressive performance, Captain Dash,” Fancy Pants commended, favoring the pegasus mare with a warm smile. “Are you certain that I can’t entice you back to the capital?” The expression on his face made it clear that the chancellor was being playful, but there was a slight note of genuine hope in his words. “Sorry, Mister Chancellor; not while Harmony Fortress still needs me,” Rainbow returned with a smile and a shake of her head. “Ah well, I suppose that even a chancellor must learn to live with life’s little disappointments. Speaking of which: I’m afraid that I don’t have much more time to spend in the company of you lovely mares any longer,” the ivory unicorn stallion lamented with a warm smile cast at each of the three officers. “At least not in this moment. Now that the media has had their fill, Ambassador Zecora and I can finally have a meaningful conversation. Hopefully we can finish our talks in time for me to grab some of that absolutely delicious-smelling pecan pie I saw on the desert table earlier! “Until later, colonel, captains.” Fancy Pants bowed his head slightly in the direction of all three officers before turning, along with Vice Chancellor Neighsay, and heading off in the direction of the zebra representative and her staff. Agent Nightshade followed in their wake. “It was nice finally seeing you, Captain Dash. You didn’t disappoint.” Twilight frowned before looking over at the pegasus beside her. “He sure changed his tune, didn’t he?” “I don’t know what any of that was about!” Rainbow Dash huffed, unabashedly annoyed. “He questions my records, hints that I slept my way to the top, puts up a truly pitiful effort in our race, and now he’s acting like nothing even happened? What’s his deal?” The pegasus mare let out a frustrated grunt, her wing coming up to massage her temple. “It’s enough to make my head hurt. I’m going to go get some water. “Catch you two later.” Twilight and Applejack offered nods as the winged mare departed for the refreshment stand. Then it was Applejack’s turn to sigh and shake her head. “Still not sure Ah like all this EBSP stuff,” she confided. “Givin’ batponies not jus’ permission to Enthrall ponies, but makin’ it an official duty? There’s a reason they gotta wear them glasses, you know? “Ah don’t like it,” the orange earth pony echoed. “Not one bit.” “I know. I’m not sure that I’m entirely comfortable with all of it either,” Twilight agreed. “But I trust the chancellor. He’s a good pony. I’m certain he’ll make sure that the agency’s regulations only let the batponies use their magic responsibly.” “Don’t know that there’s any ‘responsible’ way to use mind control,” Applejack scoffed. “It’s not ‘mind control’,” Twilight countered, mostly as a matter of clarifying the correct terminology. There were spells and enchantments that existed which truly overrode a creature’s thoughts and effected bona fide control over their actions. Batpony magic didn’t work like that. They couldn’t control what a creature did—so far as Twilight understood the research—they could merely influence their actions. And only for as long as they maintained direct eye contact. In Twilight’s opinion, a lot of the public’s understanding of what batponies could do was greatly misinformed thanks to old bigotries. Those stigmas hadn’t faded with time though, and so the exaggerations of what they could do persisted. Along with the laws which required batponies to wear tinted lenses any time they were around other ponies in order to ensure that nopony was unintentionally Enthralled by them. “They can make you do and say things that you weren’t thinkin’ about sayin’ or doin’,” Applejack countered. “If that ain’t ‘mind control’, then it’s close enough fer me as to make no difference.” The purple unicorn sighed and briefly weighed the merits of getting into a prolonged academic argument with her head of security over the semantics of what qualified as genuine domination magic, and what was effectively an innate form of temporary hypnosis. Not unlike what stage performers engaged in with their audience. In the end, Twilight decided that she didn’t have the energy for any particularly lengthy discussions this evening. “I’m going to start making my own social rounds,” the unicorn announced. “I’ll see you later, captain.” “Take care, ma’am.” Author's Note Who watches the Watchers...? As always, a thumbs up and comment are greatly appreciated If you like the cover art and want to see more stories get them, I've set up a Cover Art Fund if you're interested and have any bits lying around!
Chapter 1: The Long Twilight StruggleColonel Twilight Sparkle spent the majority of the ENS Lickity’s docking maneuvers mostly just doing her best to stay out of the way of Captain Keelhaul’s crew. Pulling a galleon into port wasn’t the sort of thing that benefited from the ‘help’ of a laypony who didn’t know anything about sailing a ship. So the little purple unicorn instead perched herself in a corner of the vessel’s quarterdeck and contented herself with appraising what was to become her new home. She hadn’t been sent on her assignment completely blind, of course. A posting as important as this one had come with a good bit of background information, though apparently not all of it—Twilight had made a note to write somepony back in Equestria as to why she hadn’t been clued in on the fates of the five preceding Harmony Fortresses. But most of that information had been quite dry—even for her—if she was being honest. She knew Harmony’s dimensions, armaments, population, cargo and passenger throughputs—Harmony Six was more than just a military fortification—and other such trivia. She’d even been provided with a few sketches and early design concepts. None of which had prepared the mare for actually seeing the fort with her own eyes. Twilight had seen plenty of military forts during the Equestria-Zebrican War. They had mostly been small, thick-walled, utilitarian affairs. Constructed to withstand attacks from roving packs of monsters or the occasional ambitious bandit gang, those old stone bastions hadn’t lasted long against zebra artillery during the war. Twilight had read many reports compiled after the war—and had even written a few herself—which enumerated the failings in the design philosophies of those forts when it came to resisting a technologically advanced foe like the zebras. The purple unicorn was relieved to see now that the conclusions reached in those reports, and the suggested changes that had been proposed for future construction, had not been overlooked by the powers that be. The fortress’ massive curtain wall did not merely ‘encircle’ the island; it projected forth from it in massive pointed bastions, each one bristling with cannons whose facings converged with that of their neighbors in order to provide overlapping fields of fire. On land, this arrangement ensured that an approaching army would nearly always be taking fire from two directions. On the open water, against ships, this feature was even far more effective. As a consequence of how galleons needed to be designed in order to sail effectively, ships-of-war packed nearly all of their weapons into their sides. Most purpose-built ships of the line possessed two or three decks of cannons on each side, with perhaps an additional armament of carronades on the topmost deck to assist with close-in fighting—the latest designs that Twilight had seen leaving the Manehattan Dockyards boasted a fourth gundeck. Pony ships thus needed to arrange themselves with their sides facing an enemy in order to shoot at them. This meant that those ships also tended to take fire on their sides as well, and so that was where most of the thicker timbers were piled on, with little protection afforded to the rear of a ship in order to save on what weight they could. Which was why going up against a ‘star fort’ design was the next best thing to a death sentence for the galleon: bringing their guns to bear against—and thus sailing parallel to—one of the fortress’ cannon-armed bastions would nearly always mean exposing their unprotected stern to another. Or at least their almost as equally exposed bow. A fortress like Harmony would be the next best thing to invulnerable! …Against a pony ship, anyway. As the Lickity sailed closer into the docking area proper, Twilight caught sight of an anchored zebra ship. The unicorn was an army officer, and so she didn’t have a working knowledge of every design which traveled the seas, even those of her former enemy. She’d never had to face a ship in battle, after all. However, it wasn’t necessary to be naval-minded in order to identify that any given ship belonged to the zebras. Their ships had steel hulls. Twilight had run the numbers when she’d first heard about the striped equines using ships made exclusively of metal. After all, at first pass, the notion did seem outrageous. A metal boat? Metal sank in water! That was why any sane creature used wood—had been using wood for centuries. But numbers didn’t lie. Many layponies—and more than a few of the more stubborn ‘knowledgeable’ shipwrights in Equestria—still laughed off the notion of ‘metal boats’, even now; but Twilight had become a believer before she’d even seen her first zebra ‘dreadnought’ with her own eyes. Because she knew that the math worked out. The only thing that stopped Equestria from building similar steel warships today was the fact that they simply didn’t have the experienced dockhooves who knew how to actually do it. Or the industrial capacity to produce enough steel to build a whole navy in the first place. Not yet, anyway. Equestria’s industrial capacity was expanding every day. Slowly, yes, as much of their domestic focus was still on rebuilding what they’d lost during the war, but the projections that Twilight had seen suggested it would only take a generation or two for the ponies to catch up to where the zebras were now. The mare’s amethyst eyes scanned over the smaller ship anchored just outside the docks—a ‘destroyer’, she believed—lingering on its guns. For that was what they were: not cannons, but proper guns. Long, narrow barrels; loaded from the breech rather than down the barrel. Every one of them rifled, she knew. Compared to any pony galleon, there were paltry few of them—she saw only four. Even the zebra dreadnought she’d seen had only possessed eight guns in its main battery. The new four-decker ships-of-the-line coming out of Manehattan equipped over a hundred cannons in total. But Twilight had seen what similar rifled guns—and their high-explosive conical shells—fielded by the zebra army could do to their targets. They’d knocked down ponylength-thick stone walls as easily as a foal kicked over a sandcastle on the beach. She shuddered to think what such weapons would do to a wooden galleon. Twilight noticed that Captain Keelhaul’s crew seemed to be guiding the ship as far around the zebra vessel as they could safely get away with as they slipped past it into Harmony’s waiting port. The unicorn tore her gaze from the foreign warship and resumed appraising her new home. She was finding herself struggling to remember that, while the island did boast massive fortifications that encircled nearly the whole of it, Harmony was not, strictly speaking, a ‘military installation’. Both officially and in a very real practical sense. It was a city, by every metric that truly mattered. It hosted a civilian population of well over fifty thousand creatures who lived and worked on the small island. While most of what passed for the ‘local industry’ was ostensibly geared towards simply maintaining the fortress’ readiness—masons to service the walls, smiths and engineers for the cannons, dockhooves and shipwrights for its ports—Twilight was led to understand that Harmony was organically developing additional local industries as well. In order to make Harmony an appealing location for as many races as possible to establish their embassies, the fortress had been constructed within an archipelago that was nearly geographically equidistant from the planet’s three main continents. This was intended to ensure that no particular nation felt that they were being favored or slighted, and all would need to travel approximately the same distance to reach Harmony. This thought had been well received by the governments of the world’s major nations… …And also the major shipping companies. Harmony had quickly emerged as a natural layover point for much of the world’s sea-born transportation. There was every indication that, in a few more years, the fortress was going to cement itself as a major trade hub, even though it didn’t produce any wares or goods of its own. It was simply that it was far cheaper for a company selling goods to only pay to ship them to Harmony and then let the buyer worry about finding a way to get them the rest of their way to the destination. As it turned out, even the buyers were amenable to this arrangement. With such a dramatically shorter distance to cover, cargo ships could get away with carrying fewer provisions to support the crew during the voyage, which lowered their operating costs while increasing the quantity of goods they could haul on each trip. Sellers could ship out their products more cheaply, buyers could import their goods more cheaply, and the carriers moving them made bits coming and going. Everycreature won. Which wasn’t to say that there wasn’t a significant military aspect present on the island as well. There had to be. Trade ports—especially ports that were thousands of miles away from the support of a mainland—were quite attractive targets for pirates and raiders. Which meant that Harmony needed to be sufficiently protected to ward them off. Preferably boasting defenses formidable enough that the mere reports of them scared pirates enough that it removed even the temptation to launch a raid on the island or any local shipping. Given the scores of cannon muzzles that Twilight could spot poking out from between the merlons of the towering pointed bastions, the little purple unicorn judged that a sufficiently formidable appearance had been achieved. She pulled out a sheet of parchment and a pencil from her saddlebag, making a note to conduct a tour of the wall to inspect those cannons up close. Looking intimidating was good—and hopefully that would deter raiders on its own—but Twilight wanted to see for herself that those cannons were being maintained in proper fighting condition. Those weapons were perched atop a wall on a fort located in the middle of the sea. Water and salt were not kind to most metals if left unaddressed. Twilight’s attention was next drawn to the fortress’ docks, which were visibly already packed with ships of all sizes. The unicorn knew that Harmony had more than one dockyard—it had three, in fact. However, one of those was rather small and reserved for the fortress’ own small fleet of patrol craft charged with pirate interdiction duties and local rescue efforts. Civilian traffic was not allowed there. Similarly, the fortress’ so-called ‘Mission Docks’ were likewise reserved exclusively for use by vessels transporting material and personnel on behalf of the various embassies maintained on the island by their represented nations. Given that one of the roles which Twilight would be filling was that of Equestria’s plenipotentiary representative during diplomatic meetings, it would technically have been permissible for the Lickity to debark her there. However, most of the ship’s cargo was actually of a non-diplomatic nature and so it would have been more convenient to have it unloaded where it was expected to be by those ponies who were waiting for it. This also gave Twilight the opportunity to see the fort’s main dockyard in action and make note of any issues that might need her attention. The mare’s amethyst eyes suddenly darted towards the island’s central spire, and the location of an unofficial fourth ‘dock’—though Twilight knew the technical term for it was actually: a mooring mast. Like the Mission Docks, it was not intended for, nor accessible to, the general public. It was reserved for use by official government vessels only. Unlike the Mission Docks though, there was only a singular government with the technological capability to make use of it. Thus it was immediately obvious that the dock was in use. Twilight used every ounce of her will to wrench her gaze away from the mooring mast, lest she find herself—and far from the first time in her life—trying to work out the enchantments and mechanisms in place which allowed for the berthed vessel which was present to remain present in its berth. It wasn’t using simple physics to do so, she knew that much. She’d done that math too, and it definitely didn’t work out. Not even when factoring in her own understanding of what was permissible where enchantments were concerned. Twilight would have given up her commission for thirty seconds aboard that ship. She didn’t want to think too long about what price she’d be willing to pay for five minutes… So, instead, she distracted herself by watching the Lickity’s crew in action as they docked their relatively underwhelming and mundane galleon. It felt a little bit like watching a choreographed dance number in a stage musical, Twilight thought to herself, only without the actual music. Unless one was of a mind to count Keelhaul’s nearly constant cadence of shouted profanity-laden orders as being ‘musical’ in nature—which Twilight was not. This was mostly due to the technicality that the earth pony mare’s shouts didn’t consistently line up with any formally established meter. Soon enough, the nearly mesmerizing movements of ropes and bodies saw the galleon sidled up to its assigned dock and lashed snugly into place by the fortress’ workers. Twilight was the first pony down the gangway, at Keelhaul’s insistence. Most likely to ensure that the purple unicorn was now fully and properly out of the way of her crew as they set about preparing to unburden the ship’s hold. The mare didn’t argue the point, and was more than happy to walk herself down onto the dock, her two trunks of personal belongings floating behind her in her telekinetic grasp. She still had her parchment and pencil out, scribbling away as she idly noted how many ponies appeared to be assigned to each of the dockhoof crews, so that she could compare them later with the prescribed regulations. She also added some personal reminders to herself to look at the logs and manifests for the past six months or so to give her an idea of the amount of traffic that the fortress saw. It was possible that she might spot some predictable pattern to the number of ships that arrived at the fort—perhaps in line with seasonal weather and wind shifts in this part of the ocean. Using that data, it should be possible to create a dynamic schedule for shifts that would optimize dockhoof-to-ship numbers so that ponies weren’t sitting around with nothing to do when there weren’t a lot of ships or being overworked because there were more ships than usual—and why was it suddenly so quiet? Twilight’s pencil stopped moving in her magical grasp as she glanced up from her parchment. The purple unicorn blinked as she realized that the pier she was on was all but deserted. It wasn’t just this pier either, the mare noticed a second later. The neighboring piers were likewise devoid of ponies. The decks of the moored ships as well. The mare jerked as the sound of a bell rang out over the fortress, drawing her attention to a large clocktower that rose up out of the middle of the fort’s civilian quarter. According to the clock’s face, it had just reached two in the afternoon. As the bell continued to peel rhythmically in its announcement of the local time, Twilight dug around in her saddlebag with her magic, searching for one of the briefing documents that she’d been given. Was there some sort of fort-wide afternoon break that she’d overlooked? It seemed wholly impractical if there was one. Inefficient too. She might have to look into changing that policy so that the break was taken on a rotational basis so that all work didn’t just suddenly stop throughout all of Harmony— A violent thundercrack of sound behind her caused Twilight to leap into the air and spin around. For a heart-stopping moment in time, the little unicorn was back on the battlefield, surrounded by explosions, agonizing screams, and thick gunsmoke, but then the moment passed and she was on the dock in the present again. She’d forgotten her writing materials in her shock as her horn flared anew with a readied magic barrier and a primed spell to fend off attackers. Twilight found herself facing off against a towering wall of water. The battle-tested mare froze in shock, confronted with a ‘foe’ that was completely outside the realm of anything that she might have been expecting. Her hastily-erected shield, intended to deflect lance, bullet, or even smaller cannon shells, was not up to the task of protecting the mare from a veritable tidal wave of seawater. When it was over, Twilight was left blinking out into the once more serene ocean beyond the fort, her brain still trying to process where the unexpected tsunami could possibly have come from. Her ear twitched as she once more detected the drone of a working dock: ponies yelling directions, ropes straining beneath their burdens, crates thumping onto decks and piers—all of the noises that had vanished just a minute ago. The clock’s bell had ceased ringing though, Twilight idly noted. “What just happened?” Twilight wasn’t sure who exactly it was that she was asking in that moment. She’d simply felt the need to put the question out into the universe in the hopes that an answer would somehow manifest. Interestingly enough, it did. And the answer took the form of a mare speaking in a prim and proper Canterlot accent. “‘That’ would be Captain Rainbow Dash, who leads Wonderbolt Squadron, one of Harmony’s air patrol wings, performing the fourteen hundred perimeter sweep.” Twilight turned around and used a hoof to sweep aside her dripping wet mane so that she could see who was speaking to her. The ivory white unicorn mare was dressed in the same deep blue duty uniform that Twilight herself was sporting—if considerably dryer—with the notable difference being that her black-brimmed hat was emblazoned with a golden sun while Twilight’s was— —Apparently no longer on her head. The unicorn jerked at the realization and started looking around for it, fearing that her cover had been washed away by the freak wave which had hit her earlier. Her search was interrupted a moment later by the hat’s appearance, floating in a cyan field of magic. Twilight accepted the offered soggy cover from the other unicorn and sighed as she dumped out the last dregs of seawater from inside of it. She grimaced before stuffing the ruined bit of uniform in her saddlebag. It wasn’t like the thoroughly soaked parchment inside it could get any more ruined… “Thank you, Major…?” “Rarity,” the unicorn supplied crisply. She then clicked her rear hooves together as she came to a more formal position of attention and raised a hoof to her forehead in salute. “Presuming that you are indeed the Colonel Twilight Sparkle that I was informed would be arriving today?” There was the hint of a questioning note in the ivory mare’s tone, prompting the purple mare to nod in confirmation. “Then I will be serving as your executive officer. “Welcome to Harmony Fortress, colonel.” “I’ve had better receptions,” Twilight couldn’t help but mutter before returning her new XO’s salute. Then she added, “No offense, major.” “Hm. Quite.” There was the slightest uptick of one corner of the white unicorn’s mouth before her horn began to glow again. A pulse of magic washed across Twilight, leaving behind a tolerably dry uniform. The purple mare blinked in mild surprise as she evaluated the results of the other mare’s spell. Curious—and more than a little hopeful—she opened up her saddlebags…only to find that her writing materials were still thoroughly soaked. She raised a questioning brow in the major’s direction. “I’m better with fabric than I am with parchment, I’m afraid, colonel,” the mare admitted with an apologetic shrug of her neck. “That’s fine. I remember most of what I wrote down,” Twilight said. At least her luggage had survived the freak wave. “However, I wouldn’t mind swinging by the quartermaster’s office to pick up replacement writing materials on my way to my quarters. Then I’ll want to arrange a meeting with my new command staff.” “Of course, ma’am. Right this way,” the ivory mare motioned for Twilight to follow her away from the docks even as she took up one of the lavender colonel’s trunks in her own field. Or rather, she tried to. There was a brief moment of struggle on the part of the major, followed by a grunt of effort and flared nostrils as she finally managed to get the chest—barely—into the air. “I’ve heard about the ‘weight of command’,” the mare huffed under her breath as she eyed her superior, “but this is a bit more literal than I was expecting.” Finally she conceded defeat and allowed the chest to drop back to the pier. “What’s in there? A boulder?” “Books,” Twilight said as she wrapped the trunk up in her own magical field and floated it much more effortlessly alongside the luggage which contained her uniforms and personal items. The ivory unicorn’s eye twitched slightly at the casual display of magical power, but she didn’t comment on it directly. “I’ve never served in a diplomatic capacity before, so I don’t have any experience as an ambassador. I’ll need to learn on the job. “These are a collection of treatises by some of the most well-regarded philosophers and academics in the fields of government, politics, debate techniques, and social engineering. Just in case. I don’t expect to be able to match the other delegates in skill and experience right out of the gate,” Twilight admitted, “but I at least want to have an understanding of the foundations of diplomacy so that I’m not completely blindsided during negotiations.” “Ah. I see.” Major Rarity eyed the floating chests a brief moment longer before turning back around. “The quartermaster is this way, colonel.” Twilight fell into step beside her new XO. As they left the docks behind and entered the fortress proper, the lavender mare sought to avail herself to the insight which could only be provided by a ‘local’. “So, I don’t suppose I can get a more detailed explanation as to how a pegasus squadron creates a tidal wave?” “Oh, that wasn’t the whole squadron, colonel,” Rarity stressed with a slight flick of her head back towards the docks. Twilight frowned and glanced back just in time to see the better part of a dozen pegasus ponies flying in formation just beyond the anchorage. “That was just Rainbow Dash.” Twilight’s eyes were wide now. “...One pegasus did that?” “She’s quite fast.” The stunned unicorn did some rough calculations in her head regarding how much air pressure it would have taken to raise a wave that high, along with the speed which would be necessary to create that quantity of cavitation…and immediately concluded that ‘fast’ was a criminally understated descriptor for how quickly the pegasus in question must have been moving. “...If she can maintain that speed the whole way, she’d complete the circumferential patrol in—” “Ten seconds,” the major supplied, sounding far too nonplussed for her superior’s liking. “Most days she does it in about ten seconds.” Twilight tried to keep the audible click of her jaw closing quiet when she realized it had been hanging open. “That’s…” The violet mare spent longer than she would have preferred combing through her vocabulary in search of a more appropriate word than, “...fast.” She hadn’t succeeded. “Quite.” As the two unicorns made their way deeper into the fortress, Twilight found herself inclined to revise part of her impression of the nature of Harmony. On paper, and at a glance, she’d thought of it as being: ‘a military installation which hosted a civilian population and performed a political function.’ However, now that she was wandering through the heart of the island and was fully immersed within the throng of sounds and moving bodies of all shapes and races, she found herself feeling as if she was walking through the middle of what could be any other mainland city. One that just happened to be encircled by high walls. There were named streets, roadside stalls with creatures selling wares of all sorts, she even walked by a mare and stallion with a filly giddily prancing around them. Everything that one would expect to see while trotting through an ordinary town. A wisp of a smile curled Twilight’s lip as she watched the little pony family go by. She paid special attention to the little pink filly laughing between her parents. The unicorn vividly recalled when the sound of laughing foals wasn’t something that was heard in towns. When all that filled the streets were explosions of artillery shells. The moans and wails of the injured and dying— Twilight forced herself to stop, closing her eyes as she took a breath and let it out slowly. Even after so many years of peace, it wasn’t easy to keep such memories away. It took a few seconds for the major to realize that her charge wasn’t following anymore. “Colonel? Are you alright?” Twilight was about to respond when she found herself distracted by the faint—but quickly rising in volume—sound of heavy steps against a wooden floor. It was coming from the building to her immediate right. The sign hanging above the door identified the establishment as ‘Trade Wind’s Tavern’, and the unicorn presumed it was a bar of some sort. She turned towards the sound that had attracted her attention— —Just in time for the large pane of glass on the bar’s front to shatter outward, pelting the purple mare with a shower of transparent razors before she could get a ward up. A heartbeat later, Twilight was bowled over as the two grappling bodies—whose passage had caused the window to break—crashed into her. Her telekinetic field winked out, dropping her baggage to the ground, as the purple mare was half crushed with a pained grunt. The two combatants continued their roll after flattening the unprepared colonel, only coming apart once they’d landed in the middle of the road. While Twilight had not been afforded enough warning of their imminent arrival to get herself out of the way, the rest of the creatures in the area were able to make sufficient room to avoid being drafted into the scuffle. A piercing screech from one of them—a tawny-furred griffon hen with white feathers—caused the nearby spectators to pin back their ears and wince away even further. She squared off against her opponent—a sapphire-scaled dragoness—and reared up, her wings splayed out in a clear sign of aggression and dominance. “You fucking lizard! I’m gonna turn you into a handbag!” “You’re welcome to try it!” The dragoness snarled in response, wisps of smoke slipping out from around her narrow muzzle before it pulled back into a fierce grin which revealed rows of sharp glistening teeth. “I’ve suddenly got a craving for roast turkey…” Flickering firelight was just visible behind the mirthless smile. Rarity was in the process of helping her new commander to get back up onto her hooves when the pair of quarreling creatures launched themselves back at each other to resume the barroom brawl which had presumably carried them out into public. Twilight was still too stunned by the blow she’d received to effectively concentrate on casting a spell. All the smaller purple unicorn could do was stare on in mute horror as the griffon and dragon closed on each other, their respective claws bared and ready to rend their opponent apart in front of her. The griffon darted to the right with a loud squawk. It was an exceptionally sudden movement. One that Twilight wouldn’t have believed a griffon to normally be capable of. The purple unicorn’s assessment was quickly proven to be correct, as she soon learned what the griffon hen’s own surprised squawk indicated that she had just discovered too: The maneuver had not been of the griffon’s own doing. Just before the two could make contact, a coil of rope had all but materialized around the leaping griffon’s hind leg, going taut almost immediately before yanking the eagle-headed feline out of reach from a swipe of the dragon’s claws. Twilight and Rarity followed the new trajectory of the griffon and saw that she was headed into the waiting hooves of a distinctly unhappy-looking pony clutching the other end of the rope in her teeth. The griffon slid backwards along the road, skidding to a halt before the hooves of the pony with the rope. With a deft hop, the pony, a well-built orange earth pony mare dressed in the regulation slate gray vest of the Equestrian Army’s Military Police branch—and also wearing a very non-regulation brown stetson hat—cleared the snared hen and positioned herself directly in the path of the oncoming dragon. The earth pony’s emerald eyes flashed as she glared at the approaching combatant. While she took no other overtly aggressive action of her own, Twilight noticed the muscles of the mare’s hanches twitch with anticipation. She was prepared to kick. Hard. Whether it was because the dragoness recognized that this new challenger was prepared to counter her charge, or because the orange pony wasn’t who she had any interest in fighting, or simply because she judged the fight to be over now that the griffon was on the ground, the sapphire dragon ceased her advance and drew up well short of the pony. She looked far from totally mollified though. Her eyes remained narrowed, darting between the earth pony and the griffon beyond her, her nostrils flared in frustration. She flexed her talons, as if trying to wring the tension out of them. “Now Ah know y’all know better’n’t be fightin in mah streets. Don’t’cha?” The orange mare declared in a thick drawl. Her green eyes took note of the damage to the nearby tavern. Her muzzle pulled back in an annoyed sneer. “Ah’d ask how this all started, but we’ve been down that road b’fore. “Any y’all wanna try tellin’ me something novel this time around?” The orange earth pony’s emerald eyes darted between the dragon and the griffon. “Like the truth?” “It was just a misunderstanding, AJ,” the griffon hen said as she got back up. She deftly used a talon to snip the coil of rope off from around her hind leg. “As in: this dragon doesn’t understand that it doesn’t belong here.” She flashed a mirthless smile at the dragon. “They’re stupid like that. Something about their tiny lizard brains not being able to manage complex thought…” The dragoness snorted forcefully enough to expel a generous quantity of smoke as she jabbed a claw of her own at the feathered feline. “Must make you cat-birds pretty pathetic if us ‘dumb lizards’ kicked your tufted tails off our island so easily!” “We left on our own!” The griffon shot back almost immediately. “We got sick and tired of dealing with your lameness!” “Why you little—!” “Quiet down! Both of y’all!” The earth pony snarled, stomping her hoof for emphasis. Much to Twilight’s surprise, both creatures did, in fact, stop trading verbal bards. They still glowered at each other though. Each broke their stare long enough to meet the piercing gaze of the pony chastising them though, and looked mostly visibly cowed when they did. “Here’s what’s gonna happen: both y’all are gonna go back to your quarters. An’ that’s where y’all stay for the rest of the day. Later on tonight, one of my ponies is gonna stop by your quarters and give y’all ‘guides’ on what parts of the fort y’all can be in. See if’n we can avoid any more unpleasantness like this in the future.” The griffon’s chest puffed up as she glared at the mare. “Hey, you don’t get to tell me where I can and can’t go—!” “The alternative,” the earth pony continued on, fixing the griffon with a hard stare as she cut off the protest, “is that any time y’all are out an’ about, Ah’mma gonna be hoverin’ around you like a hungry parasprite.” A thin smile creased orange lips when the mare saw how little that prospect appeared to appeal to either creature. “Ah’ll sit on you two like a broodin’ chicken. Don’t think Ah won’t. “Ah’ll bring a whole entourage,” the mare gestured towards other ponies that were standing around the area forming a loose ring and keeping other creatures away from the scuffle. They were all wearing gray vests similar to that being worn by the orange mare. “Y’all like making a scene so much, figure you’d want an ‘audience’ around you at all times… “Or we can try it mah way?” Both creatures regarded each other once more in silence, glaring at each other. Finally, it was the dragon who relented first. “Okay, chief. We can try it your way. “For now.” It appeared that the earth pony mare didn’t particularly care for the caveat, and was about to rebuke the dragon further, but before she could, the dragon sneered at the griffon and added: “Gilda won’t be a problem forever.” The dragon stormed off, the other ponies on the security detail making room for her as she passed. At a subtle nod from their chief, a couple followed the dragon at a respectful distance. Behind the earth pony, the griffon snorted. “Fucking lizards. We should have just skinned them all and been done with it.” “Gilda…” The mare breathed out in an exasperated sigh. “Yeah, yeah,” the griffon said with a dismissive wave of her talons. “I’m going, AJ, I’m going. See you around.” Again, a couple of ponies trailed the griffon to ensure that she did as she’d been told. The orange mare took a deep breath and let out what sounded like a long-suffering sigh. Then something caught her attention by the tavern’s window. For a moment, Twilight thought it was herself, except that the purple unicorn noticed the earth pony was actually looking past where she was still laying, in the bar’s interior. “Sorry, AJ—” “Yeah, we’re really sorry about this, Applejack—” “—I tried to tell her we should go somewhere else, but—” “—doesn’t even like cider! I don’t know why she even—” “Bap-bap-bap-bap!” The earth pony mare cut off the pair of voices that were starting to talk over themselves to the point of incomprehension, holding up a staying hoof. “T’ain’t y’alls’ fault.” Her expression softened somewhat now. “But Ah appreciate it all the same. Thank you.” Then her eyes hardened slightly once more, though her tone wasn’t anywhere near as aggressive as it had been earlier. “Ah trust Ah can count on you two to make Single Malt whole on this?” Her hoof waved to take in the damage to the front of the building. “Yes, ma’am!” Both voices affirmed in unison. Finally able to tear her gaze away from the earth pony mare she’d just watch browbeat a griffon and a dragon, Twilight turned just in time to see another feathered and scaled duo—an entirely gray griffon and the smallest purple dragon that she’d ever seen—vanish deeper into the tavern. Presumably to go and compensate the owner for the damages that had been done to their business. Only now did the orange earth pony mare seem to take notice of the two unicorns near the tavern, her emerald eyes locking onto Rarity first. “Well howdy, major! Got yerself ringside accommodations for the latest dust-up, Ah see,” the security mare chuckled, eyeing how close the two were to the busted window. “Hm. Quite, yes,” Major Rarity grumbled as her magic collected Twilight’s hat, which had been knocked off again during the tumble she’d taken. The ivory unicorn used the restoration spell once more to mend the bill of the cap before returning it. The ivory unicorn was in the process of returning Twilight’s hat when she visibly balked, her sapphire eyes widening in concern as she regarded the other unicorn. “...Colonel, you’re bleeding.” It was Twilight’s turn to hesitate now. As though it had been waiting for somepony to point out its existence, only now did the smaller purple mare’s cheek blossom with pain. A reflexive application of a fetlock to the aching region revealed that, as the major had already announced, she was indeed bleeding. The wound wasn’t deep, and it was unlikely to be anywhere approaching life-threatening—certainly just a shallow cut from a shard of glass from the nearby broken window—but even minor lacerations to the face tended to produce a lot of bleeding. The “I’m fine” was automatic, and issued before Twilight had even confirmed the presence of the blood for herself. She’d seen combat. She’d seen what true wounds looked like. Those experiences served as the foundation for her opinion that any injury which didn’t consist of, at minimum, the complete loss of the limb, was a triviality not worth bringing attention to. At least when it concerned herself. The unicorn had certainly directed many subordinates to have even their minor injuries treated by medical personnel. She acknowledged the hypocrisy. She also dismissed it, just as she tried to dismiss the visible concern on the face of her new XO. “We should still get it looked at,” Rarity insisted. “Let’s get you to the clinic—” Twilight was already shaking her head. “It’s nothing,” she began in protest. “I’ve read your jacket, colonel. You possess a host of degrees and academic accomplishments. But I don’t recall seeing ‘doctor’ among them. You’ll forgive me for seeking the opinion of a professional,” the other unicorn said in the firm-yet-even tone an officer might use to admonish a subordinate who was doing something ill-advised. She ignored the narrowing eyes of her commanding officer in favor of summoning the orange earth pony to assist her in wrangling the purple unicorn. “Applejack? If you would be so kind as to have a few of your ponies take the colonel’s luggage to her quarters…” “Can do, major,” the head of security nodded before summoning some of her officers to collect the pair of trunks. She then took up a position on Twilight’s flank opposite the major. The clear intention there being to dissuade the colonel of any further argument about being escorted to the fort’s clinic. The orange mare flashed her new senior officer a broad grin. “Welcome to Ponyville, ma’am.” The purple mare allowed herself to be escorted from the scene of the fight even as she cast a parting glance at her trunks as they were hauled away. The sturdy earth pony security officers didn’t struggle with moving them nearly as much as the major had. She glanced back at the orange mare with a raised brow. “‘Ponyville’? I’ve seen the map of the fortress and the names of the districts. That’s not one of them.” “Not officially, no,” the other mare conceded with a shrug. “But that’s what everycreature in Harmony calls this part of the fort.” Her hoof was directed at a minotaur cow who was forced to duck down into a near squat in an effort to get through the front door of a shop they were trotting by. “Different shapes’n’sizes of creatures means different structure requirements. “To keep things lookin’ mostly orderly an’ such, the fortress got divided into areas where places are made to different scales. This part here where things’re about pony-sized gets called ‘Ponyville’. There’re a lot of creatures that live here other’n ponies though,” the earth pony went on with a nod towards a pair of donkeys trotting by. “It’s jus’ a name.” “Oh.” Twilight supposed that name was probably more palatable to the residents than the official designation of: Zone Two. “Just so you’re not caught off guard later,” Rarity chimed in from her other side, “the central tower where most of the Equestria Command delegation is quartered is known as: The Citadel.” She nodded her head in the direction of the fort’s largest spire, which also served as a lighthouse for the area’s sea traffic. Twilight nodded in acknowledgement before turning her attention to the orange mare once more. It only occurred to her now that, in all the commotion, some of the more common courtesies had been overlooked. If this mare was who Twilight suspected she was, then the purple unicorn had just met another member of her senior staff. “Am I right in assuming that you’re the fortress’ head of security? Captain Applejack?” “That Ah am, ma’am.” The green-eyed mare snapped briefly to attention and rendered a quick salute which Twilight briskly returned before relaxing her posture and once more resuming their trot through town. “At least on paper.” At the purple mare’s once again raised eyebrow, she elected to elaborate. “Well, y’see, colonel, most of the creatures around here, they ain’t military types.” Her head broadly nodded towards their general surroundings, and the clearly non-uniformed, non-military, beings walking the street around them. There were a few ponies in their duty uniforms, but they stuck out as the clear exception rather than the rule. “The idea of being ordered around by ‘soldiers’ ruffles fur’n’feathers alike. “So Ah kinda ‘unofficially’ rebranded my MPs as ‘constables’ and myself as a ‘Chief of Police’.” Applejack’s hoof touched her hat and a silver six-pointed star pinned to her uniform. “It don’t actually change nuthin’ o’course—Equestria Command makes the rules an’ we enforce ‘em—but folks around here are a lot more relaxed since we changed up the name an’ the image all the same.” “Seeing soldiers keeping order reminded ponies too much of what things were like during The War,” Major Rarity chimed in, earning a nod from Applejack. “Changing the name and tweaking the uniforms lets the civilians at least pretend this place uses a more traditional law enforcement apparatus.” This time the security chief did a brief turn as she walked to model off her modified duty uniform. While the colors were certainly those used by the army’s military police branch, the cut and style of the vest reminded Twilight of local policing uniforms back on the mainland. Not exactly regulation, the purple mare thought to herself, but there are provisions for ‘commander’s discretion’ when it comes to altering uniforms if the situation justifies it… “If either of you have some reports about how the change has affected fortress operations, I’d appreciate taking a look at them,” Twilight finally said. The other two nodded. Her eyes then darted back towards the direction of the damaged bar. “Now, while modifying uniforms is one thing, I have to say that I’m a little less inclined to agree with how you appear to be modifying enforcement of punishments for infractions. “That dragon and griffon were clearly fighting and they caused considerable damage to private property,” Twilight pointed out, turning her head to cast a pointed look at the earth pony. “That should have meant a minimum of three months confinement, civilians or not.” The colonel frowned. “And you just let them leave?” The pair exchanged glances before an exasperated sigh escaped from the earth pony. “Those two go at it at least once a week,” she said with a hint of frustration. “Ah tell’em to stay on opposite sides of the fort, but they always seem to wind up in the same place eventually and then, well…” She gave a helpless shrug. “You saw the results.” “Once a week?!” Twilight blurted. “Why haven’t you kicked them out of the fortress yet if they’re that much of an issue?” “We can’t, colonel,” Rarity sighed. “They have diplomatic privilege.” “Diplo—?!” Twilight bit off the furious outburst and let out the rest of it as a sigh of her own. If that was the case, then it really did mean that there wasn’t much that Captain Applejack or her MPs could do about the pair fighting. They certainly couldn’t be arrested or directly expelled by Equestrian personnel under local judicial statutes. It needed to be addressed through political channels. While Harmony Fortress was ‘neutral ground’, it was also officially Equestrian soil. As Twilight’s role on Harmony was to serve as both its commanding officer and the Equestrian government’s official representative—with full plenipotentiary powers—it meant that she had the final say on who could stay on the island and who must go. If she went directly to the ambassadors of the Griffon Imperial Republic and the Dragon Protectorate and issued a formal directive that those two troublemakers be sent back to their respective homelands, the missions from both nations would be obliged to follow it. There might be some minor political blowback, the purple unicorn conceded to herself. Official protests would be lodged against her back in Equestria, at the least. But Twilight wasn’t too concerned about that. She’d be able to justify the expulsion easily enough, especially if she included copies of Captain Applejack’s incident reports. “I’ll go and speak with their ambassadors and get them removed,” Twilight promised. Her subordinates exchanged another look. “Umm…” Rarity considered. “Well, y’see, colonel,” Applejack likewise struggled to form a full sentence. “The thing about that is…” Twilight looked between the pair as she awaited the reason for their perception of her stated course of action being problematic. What could the issue possibly be? Sure, maybe the ambassadors wouldn’t be happy about it, but it wasn’t like they could actually do anything to stop her from expelling those two— “They are the ambassadors,” Major Rarity finally managed to finish their shared thought, flashing her commander an apologetic smile. The purple unicorn came to a dead stop. Which prompted the other two to pause with her. For several long moments, all that she seemed to be able to do was blink at the other two ponies as her mind valiantly tried—and repeatedly failed—to accept the information which had just been provided to her. Those two vitriolic brawlers…were the ambassadors…of their respective races? And would be responsible for ensuring that peace endured between their nations? “...Oh.” The already daunting task that Twilight was facing suddenly felt even more so. “Yeah…” Applejack shrugged sympathetically. “Maybe the clinic isn’t a bad idea after all,” the purple unicorn conceded. “I’m feeling a headache coming on…” Applejack made her departure to return to her duties shortly after arriving at the fort’s primary clinic. The day’s events had left her with more than a few incident reports to write up, along with gathering the information on the uniforms that Twilight had requested. Rarity likewise excused herself from the clinic’s waiting room, citing her need to attend a briefing at The Citadel. She offered to stop by the quartermaster and pick up the replacement writing supplies that Twilight needed, as well as confirming that her baggage made it to her quarters safely. Twilight took her XO up on both offers and made arrangements for the two of them to meet first thing in the morning, along with the rest of the fortress’ department heads and senior staff. Twilight prepared to settle in for a long stay in the clinic’s waiting room, knowing that her injury was a fairly minor one and so she would likely be triaged as a rather low priority patient. However, the moment she stepped into the clinic, she discovered that it was empty, save for the white earth pony mare wearing a nurse’s cap sitting at the reception desk. The nurse perked up upon seeing Twilight enter. “Oh, hello! What brings you by—oh my!” The mare’s eyes locked onto the blood staining the purple unicorn’s cheek. “What happened?” She stood up from the desk and stepped up closer to examine the wound. “Just a cut from some broken glass. It’s nothing serious,” Twilight said with a dismissive wave of a hoof. “You can just get me some gauze and tape and I’ll get out of your mane. Oh, and maybe some aspirin too?” It was hard to tell if the earth pony hadn’t heard Twilight’s self-diagnosis, or if the nurse simply dismissed whatever patients merely thought was wrong with them out of professionally acquired habit. In any case, the mare elected to direct Twilight towards a nearby examination room. “I’ll go and fetch the doctor.” Twilight briefly entertained the notion of trying to fend off what she saw as an overreaction to such a minor injury once more, but ultimately relented. As minor as the injury was, it would doubtlessly be quicker to simply let the staff here treat it and send her on her way than it would be to continue to argue. So Twilight lay herself down on the exam bed and patiently waited for the doctor to arrive. If she hadn’t been looking at the door, the unicorn had to wonder if she’d have noticed the pegasus mare enter, as quiet as she was. A chiffon yellow face that was almost entirely obscured by the fall of a long pink mane poked in through the nudged open door. There was a brief moment where a singular sapphire iris met a pair of amethyst ones…and that was the only eye contact that Twilight was able to recall from the whole encounter. “Are you…the doctor?” The unicorn ventured. There was a prolonged moment of silence and lack of movement on the part of the other mare. Then, finally, there was a “...yes” which floated by, lofted by so few decibels that Twilight wondered if she should ask for an audiology exam in order to check herself for a sudden loss of hearing. The yellow mare slipped the rest of the way into the room. A long white coat obscured most of her body, though Twilight was able to pick out the pair of subtly twitching bulges to either side of the doctor’s body which suggested a pair of wings were tucked beneath it. A nameplate fastened to the coat read: ‘Fluttershy, M.D.’ The sole visible eye darted to Twilight’s cheek for only a moment, and then was looking anywhere other than her patient once more. Wordlessly, the chiffon pegasus stepped over to a cabinet and began to carefully extract supplies and tools. Twilight would be the first to admit that she wasn’t generally the most outgoing or social of ponies. She wasn’t the sort to host a party. She was barely the sort to attend a party, unless doing so was required due to her rank and position. As far as ‘small talk’ was concerned, the unicorn was having a difficult time recalling when she’d been the one to initiate it. Generally that was always done by another party, with Twilight offering the sorts of polite responses that were expected by social convention. In her experience, doctors were prone to initiating conversation during exams and treatments. Part of the ‘good bedside manner’ which was expected from those in their profession. She’d noticed that this was the case with nearly every medical profession. Dentists especially were prone to conversation while they had their hooves deep in their victim’s mouths—for reasons that Twilight still couldn’t fathom. Her working theory was that all dentists just liked to hear themselves ramble, with no actual desire to engage in true conversation with their patients. However, in the face of what was becoming a progressively ever more awkward lack of verbal exchange between two ponies in the same small room…Twilight conceded that, as uncharacteristic as it might seem, she was going to have to be the one to start up a conversation. “...So…” Her lack of prior expertise in the matter left her with few ready topics into which to delve and necessitated a pause to think of what the two of them could reasonably talk about. But…maybe she should look at this as an opportunity to further her knowledge about Harmony instead? That felt like a reasonable topic. “How are you liking Harmony Fortress so far?” The pegasus paused. “It’s…nice.” She resumed gathering her supplies and spread them out on the nearby counter. “...Turn your head, please.” Twilight obliged, offering her injured cheek to the mare, but also continued in her efforts to extort information from her. “‘Nice’…how? Do you like being around so many different creatures? It must be quite the experience treating so many different kinds of beings. Definitely something you couldn’t do back in Equestria,” Twilight reasoned. There wasn’t much of a non-pony population back home. For…obvious reasons. Gauze was dabbed at the wound, mopping up the drying blood and bringing the details of the injury into focus. “They’re…nice,” came the eventual response once the gauze was discarded. No further words were offered by the pegasus. It was still unclear to the purple unicorn if the compounded awkwardness she was feeling right now was because she was simply so inexperienced at initiating conversation, or if the onus here was on the physician. Still, she tried a valiant third attempt at getting words to flow in both directions for more than a single exchange. “Is it hard? Being so far from Equestria? Away from your family?” The single visible eye critically examined the laceration in silence. Then the pegasus fetched a cotton swab in her teeth and dabbed it into an open jar of some sort of balm. The swab was delicately brushed along the cut on Twilight’s cheek. Whatever it was stung a little when it met the wound and the unicorn winced slightly. When the doctor was done, she disposed of the swab. “It was…nice.” She fetched and applied a simple adhesive bandage over the injury before backing away and beginning the process of clearing away her supplies. “...I’m done. You can go, colonel.” Twilight cocked her head. Even though she recognized that she’d been freed of any presumed social obligation to converse, the fact remained that the doctor’s last answer had piqued her own curiosity. “‘Was’ nice? What changed?” If there was a problem on Harmony, then it was something that she could likely do something to address. The pegasus finished cleaning up the exam room. She didn’t turn back around to look at the purple mare. The bulges beneath her white coat trembled. “...please go.” Twilight was frowning now as she slipped off the examination bed. “Doctor, if something’s wrong, I need you to tell me. As the commander of this fortress, it’s my duty to address serious issues. “Is there a problem?” Her tone didn’t quite rise to that of a ‘demand’. The doctor wasn’t one of her officers; Twilight couldn’t give her any actual orders. However, as the commander of the fortress, she possessed a certain nominal executive power over every creature that lived and worked on the island. Much like the mayor of a town might. The chiffon pegasus winced, her head bowing low at the edge in Twilight’s words. Still no response came. “Doctor—” Then the unexpected happened: the yellow mare spoke. With both some measure of volume, and at length. Relatively speaking, anyway. The pegasus’ words were barely above a typical speaking voice, but they were the loudest she’d uttered thus far. There was also a firmness to them that almost compelled Twilight to stop talking and listen to the mare, who had turned and was now regarding the unicorn with both eyes. Eyes which possessed a strange sort of intensity. “I know who you are, Colonel Sparkle. So I also know what you’ve done.” The words contained no real vitriol. There was barely even anything which could reasonably be categorized as a ‘biting tone’ to them. From anypony else, they would have simply been regarded as calm and inoffensive statements. “You’re not…nice.” Yet, somehow, from the lips of that pegasus, that last line cut Twilight to her core. “I did what I had to do,” was the automatic defense, and perfectly echoed the recurring phrase she recited to herself on those nights when memory kept her from sleep. “We all do only what we choose to do.” Again the words contained no audible bite…and yet they rocked the unicorn regardless. “...I chose to leave.” The pegasus turned back towards the door. “Goodbye, colonel.” Then she was gone as quietly as she’d appeared. It was several minutes before Twilight was composed enough to leave the room. She was vaguely aware of the nurse at the front desk wishing her a good day. Twilight didn’t remember if she responded. Her mind was elsewhere as she trotted back through the fortress, heading broadly in the direction of the central spire, as she wasn’t yet familiar with the street layout of Harmony. It was a war. The survival of ponykind was on the line. It was us or them. I had a duty— A familiar flash of memory. A town that was there one moment…and gone in the next; leaving behind only a crater where it had once stood. Twilight had seen a recent map of the area. It was a lake now. Debatably, it also doubled as a graveyard of sorts. Equestria had given her a new medal. The zebras had given her a new name. Twilight cared for neither. …I did what I had to do. The purple unicorn was eventually able to wrestle those thoughts back into the deeper recesses of her mind, where she tended to keep them. By the time she had, Twilight realized that she was back in Ponyville. The spire of The Citadel wasn’t that much further off, and she even identified an avenue that looked like it would take her the rest of the way there. She took a few hoofsteps in that direction when something made her pause. Nostrils twitched. The mare inhaled deeply. Then she had to swallow back the saliva which threatened to drown her. Two weeks spent on a ship in the middle of the ocean had meant that Twilight had been removed from quite a lot in life which most ponies who spent their lives on land took for granted: stationary beds, proper bathrooms, space to trot around in to stretch her legs. But, perhaps most noticeably in this moment, the unicorn had also been deprived of the simplest of underappreciated ‘luxuries’: Fesh. Baked. Bread. Stale hardtack and drier-than-a-desert oat cakes might sustain life, but they didn’t in any way enrich it. It had been the better part of a month since the unicorn had been able to enjoy a decent slice of toast! Twilight didn’t even remember making her way to the baked goods stall in the market. She didn’t even remember seeing it until she was practically drooling over its wares, which consisted of more than simple bread, she soon discovered. There were muffins, cupcakes, and full cakes. Flaky croissants and fruity tarts. There were items that the unicorn didn’t even know the proper names for because they weren’t of Equestrian origin. They all had one quality in common though: they smelled amazing! “I’d ask if you see anything you like,” a mare that Twilight hadn’t even noticed until that moment lightly chuckled, “but I think I’m picking up on a few context clues…” The purple unicorn finally realized that her mouth was hanging open and slammed it close with an audible ‘clack’ of her teeth. She lightly flushed with embarrassment as she finally looked up towards the proprietor of the stall: a pink mare with an even pinker curly mane that skirted the line between apathetically unkempt and styled to a very particular taste. Her blue eyes were very nearly sparkling with amusement at the prospective customer who’d been on the cusp of glazing her wares with drool. “Sorry,” Twilight sheepishly offered the baker. “I just spent the last two weeks on a ship. The food…wasn’t the best,” she offered by way of understatement. The pink earth pony winced in sympathy. “Oof! I know how that is. Equestrian ship rations are the worst! Mostly it’s because they don’t have any cold storage aboard—wood’s not so good for that long-term and most captains don’t want to give up potential cargo space for an ice-box. After all, flour stores just fine on a ship so it’s hypothetically possible to bake fresh bread on a ship. Dried yeast and sugar keep for a long time too. But, any bread you bake with just that is barely worthy of being called ‘bread’ at all, in my opinion! “If you’re not using milk, then why bother baking bread at all? Just stick to the bardtack, I say!” The mare went on. As she spoke, her hooves were busy loading a selection of her wares into a basket. “And that’s where you run into problems: storing milk requires an ice-box. And you don’t find those on Equestrian ships. Griffon ships have them, but they don’t store milk in them. They’re mostly used for meat. “Zebra ships, on the other hoof,” the baker absently went on as she continued to pile goods into the basket, seeming to barely even be paying attention to what she was selecting, “they have whole walk-in freezers on some of their bigger cruisers! Proper cast-iron ovens too! Forget bread, you can throw together a proper three-tier cake aboard one of them! “Ask me how I know that!” Twilight very nearly missed the wink. The prompt snapped the purple mare out of her baked-goods-induced trance and she found herself looking directly at the baker once more. The mare was clearly a pony, and to the best of Twilight’s knowledge that meant that there was little to no possibility that she would have ever been aboard a zebra vessel. Certainly not a military vessel. Despite the existence of the peace treaty that now existed between their races, the zebras didn’t let Equestrians aboard their warships. “How do you know—?” The rest of the unicorn’s question was interrupted by the unexpected shoving of the overladen basket of baked goods into the mare’s chest which sent her falling onto her flanks with a grunt. Both hooves and magic desperately lanced out in an effort to keep the teetering spire of fresh treats from falling into the street. “Welcome to Harmony, colonel!” the now-obscured baker called out. “Enjoy this complimentary gift-basket. By which I mean that the contents of the basket are a gift, not the basket itself. I’m going to need that back, it was my mother’s. But you don’t need to give it back right now. Because you still need it to carry your gifts. “I’ll swing by and collect it later!” Twilight only half-heard the words, as she was far more focused on stabilizing the tower of treats that had been shoved at her by the pink mare. Once she was confident that her telekinesis had everything secured, the purple unicorn finally stood back up with this intent to confront the baker and get answers to the many questions that she now had. “Hold on! How do you know what’s on zebra ships?! I’m also not authorized to accept gifts valued at over a certain amount, and this…” Her eyes darted to the top of the stack of baked goods which somehow wasn’t collapsing under their own weight, “has to be over that amount.” It was certainly over the nearby building’s awning. Twilight shifted the basket and its contents out of her line of sight with the baker. “I have to pay you…for… “...Huh?” The baker wasn’t there anymore. While that initial realization was, in and of itself, a little puzzling; it paled in comparison to the second thing that Twilight noticed: the baker’s entire stall was no longer there. The counter and all of its goods had vanished. Twilight spent a brief moment reviewing her memory of the baker and confirming whether or not the pink mare’s curls might have possibly concealed a horn. She concluded that the baker had indeed been an earth pony. The unicorn glanced at a nearby stall and its proprietor, a donkey with a shabby black mop of a mane which, for some reason, struck Twilight as not sitting quite right upon his head. He was sitting amidst a series of shelves which displayed wigs and toupees. “Where did she go?” Twilight was answered with a light snore. Twilight frowned, noting that the dull brown donkey’s eyes were half-lidded and so reasoned that he might be intentionally ignoring her. “Sir. Sir.” The jack jerked with a start, smacking his lips noisily before glancing around his surroundings for the source of his nap’s disturbance. When his only slightly-wider pale blue gaze finally identified Twilight, they narrowed in annoyance. A hoof idly went to his head and adjusted the set of his mane. Which turned out to also be a—rather well-worn—toupee. “What do you want?” He grumbled. He took obvious note of Twilight’s mane and concluded that the mare was unlikely to be a prospective customer. “The pink mare who was right here,” Twilight pointed a hoof at the empty space beside the donkey’s stall. “The baker. Where did she go?” “What are you talking about?” “The baker,” she repeated, trying to keep her own annoyance from coloring her tone too much and further antagonizing the obviously quite annoyed donkey. “The one who was right here not two minutes ago: where did she go?” “Lady, I’ve been here all day; there was no baker,” he insisted. “This isn’t even the food section of the market. If you want baked goods, then you have to go over there!” He elaborated his point by jabbing a hoof to his right. Twilight followed the direction he was pointing in and saw that, indeed, it appeared that the stalls which sold food were all clustered into their own section of the open air market. All of the other stalls and stands around her appeared to only be peddling in non-edible wares. “And what do you need a baker for anyway? How many more bread rolls do you need?” The donkey further snorted, eyeing the swaying tower of tarts Twilight was holding in her magic. “No, I don’t need a baker,” Twilight countered, some of her frustration creeping into her words now. “I’m looking for the baker who was right here—” “And I already told you this isn’t where food vendors are allowed to set up,” the donkey snapped back. “So if you want more bread, go over there!” His hoof was up and pointing again, this time singling out a stall which had a pair of earth ponies standing in it, a gangling yellow stallion and a squat blue mare. “Now, if you’re not going to buy anything from me, scram!” He snorted and rearranged himself back into the napping pose he’d originally been in. Twilight clamped her mouth shut against the temptation to get into a verbal altercation with the mule. It wouldn’t be productive. Instead, she cast one last glance around the market, reasoning that the pink-on-pink mare would be rather easy to spot if she were in the area. The fact that her search proved entirely fruitless suggested that the baker had indeed managed to make a clean escape. Somehow. With a heavy sigh, Twilight resigned herself to the fact that her questions would remain unanswered…and that she was in possession of a regulation-breaking gift. On the other hoof, it was unlikely that the disappeared mare was trying to curry any favor with her, so maybe there was some wiggle-room to be had. Plus…maybe it only really counted if the ‘gift’ endured for a protracted length of time? Twilight floated down a cupcake and began to dispose of the evidence of her possible impropriety. She’d put hardly any kind of dent into the tower by the time she reached The Citadel. To further aid in her efforts to erode the basket’s contents, Twilight tipped the helpful pegasus guard at the door who informed her which floor her quarters were on with an apple pie. The two guards sitting at the desk in the tower’s lobby likewise received muffins for their revelation that her possessions had been transported up to her room. A fourth pegasus guard who offered to carry up her delivery from the quartermaster was compensated with a strawberry torte. A quick trot up the two flights of stairs brought the purple unicorn to her apartment, for that was pretty much what it was. Twilight came as close as she dared to overburdening the pegasus who’d walked with her with approximately half the remaining contents of the basket, directing him to deliver them to the enlisted barracks with her compliments. Twilight predicted that she was well on her way to becoming Harmony’s most popular commander. True, as the fortress’ first commander, she was going to hold that title regardless of the objective level of regard with which her ponies held her. Still, as with most aspects of her tenure on the island, Twilight’s intent was to set a high bar in nearly all aspects of her command. One which her eventual replacement would be motivated to maintain, if only so that they didn’t come off as looking incompetent by comparison. The door closed behind the grunting pegasus, leaving Twilight alone in her suite of rooms. ‘Rank has its privileges’. Twilight had entered her service during the war as an officer, due to her family’s—nominal—nobility and a range of higher education degrees which she’d possessed at the time. Even during a war which was quite quickly growing ever more desperate, that had garnered her better rations and quarters—which mostly meant actually having quarters at times. As a major in Canterlot, this had meant having a modest two-room suite with a private bathroom. Her promotion to colonel wouldn’t really have seen her getting accommodations which were much better, assuming she was given new quarters at all. However, as the de facto governor of the island, as well as Equestria’s official representative to the other races while on Harmony, her position qualified her for more than merely a decent sized bedroom and private washroom. Since there was the expectation that she might need to host official visitors from other nations for dinners and parties, Twilight had been provided with a dining room, a separate den, and even a parlor. They were, by far, the nicest living accommodations that Twilight had known in…a long time. Her two trunks had been deposited in the den. Glancing around, it was clear to Twilight that she was going to need to make some trips to the fortress’ markets to buy…well: stuff. Otherwise, her accommodations were going to look embarrassingly spartan in the event that she did end up hosting one of the island’s other dignitaries for an evening. But that could wait. While it wasn’t really all that late, the voyage aboard the Lickity hadn’t afforded the unicorn much in the way of restful sleep. Retiring early seemed like a good idea. Before she could sleep though, there was still one piece of business that she needed to see to. Twilight opened up the chest which contained her personal possessions and sifted through them with her telekinesis until she found what she was looking for. Carefully extracting the items, the purple unicorn made her way into the parlor, which was positioned near the outer wall of the fort’s central spire, and had access to a balcony through a pair of large glass doors. She didn’t go outside though. The window beside the exterior door would suffice for her needs. The mare cleared off a small end table and moved it closer to the window. Upon it, she deposited the pair of objects that she’d retrieved from her chest: a picture frame and a lantern. A brief charge of magic was enough to illuminate the small gemstone nestled at the heart of the lantern, and it immediately began to glow with soft yellow light. Twilight spared a moment to appreciate the perhaps comically redundant nature of her little lantern when compared to the much larger and brighter bona fide lighthouse which existed at the peak of the spire she was presently in. She wasn’t intending to use it to guide the near constant convoy of ships which streamed into and out of Harmony’s ports at all hours of the night and day. She was concerned with only a singular ship. Most of her knew that it wasn’t ever going to appreciate the lantern’s existence. It couldn’t. Anymore… The second item she erected on the table near the window was a frame that contained a faded daguerreotype. The subject of the image was a unicorn stallion. It wouldn’t have been immediately obvious to most observers when they looked at the picture, thanks to its limitation to black and sepia tones, but when Twilight looked at the stallion, she could vividly make out his two-toned blue mane and white coat. His kind blue eyes that had looked upon her with love the last time they’d seen each other… Time had passed since she’d received the news. The ache of loss hadn’t faded all that much. She returned the image’s static smile for a few lingering moments before tearing herself away from the reestablished memorial and finally heading off to get some rest. Her first hours in Harmony had certainly left an impact on the mare—literally. The morning would see whether or not Twilight could leave a lasting impact on it… Author's Note Get it? The title's a pun! As always, a thumbs up and comment are always greatly appreciated If you like the cover art and want to see more stories get them, I've set up a Cover Art Fund if you're interested and have any bits lying around!
Chapter 2: The GatheringTwilight’s first night on Harmony was not the most restful she’d had in her life, but it was a far sight better than the nights she’d previously spent aboard the sea-tossed Lickity to get here. Waking up without a strong urge to vomit into a bucket was certainly a pleasant change of pace. However, it wasn’t until the mare stepped into her private washroom and discovered that it possessed an overhead shower which was connected to a cistern of heated water that she rediscovered what she’d missed most about being on land: feeling truly clean. There had been opportunities to bathe aboard the ship, of course. However, with fresh water being at a premium and far too precious to waste on anything other than drinking or food preparation, the only option for use to clean pony bodies had been saltwater from the surrounding ocean. Twilight had felt that replacing the dirt and grime saturating her coat with salt had been a marginal improvement, at best. Soap had been available, of course, but soap eventually had to be rinsed out with water. And when said water was composed of salt and algae… Thirty minutes later, Twilight was finally chased out of the shower by the loss of hot water. The mare was sure that she’d feel some lingering guilt about using all of it up if she later found out that other ponies relied on the same source for their own washing, but until that moment came, the thoroughly refreshed unicorn was too enraptured by the feeling of cleanliness to particularly care. She dried herself off, brushed out her mane and tail, and took care of the rest of the hygiene regiment that had been far harder to maintain aboard ship—the only thing more unpleasant than washing with seawater had been brushing her teeth with it—before finally leaving the bathroom. Breaking her fast with a blueberry muffin that had managed to maintain its moistness over the evening instead of a stale oat cake only further improved the unicorn’s outlook on how her first full day on Harmony was likely to turn out. A fresh uniform and saddle bags loaded with the parchment, ink, and quills that Major Rarity had requested for her from the quartermaster—along with a couple additional cupcakes for snacking—saw her out the door of her suite and ascending up to the administrative levels of The Citadel. A passing pony was helpful enough to point Twilight in the direction of the conference room which the fortress’ command staff regularly used for their meetings. Unsurprisingly, the purple unicorn was the first to arrive. This was because she was considerably early as a consequence of her going to sleep well before nightfall. It was also a little by design. Twilight still had yet to recreate the notes that she’d made which had been lost to the unexpected tidal wave, to say nothing of jotting down her thoughts on later revelations. Foremost among them was going to be reaching out to the governments of the griffons and dragons about their ambassadors and how disruptive they were being to Harmony—Twilight allowed her lip to quirk up at the double-meaning. She recognized that her request for replacements was very likely to be immediately dismissed, but there was nothing to lose by at least trying. Twilight was jotting down her last note regarding tracking down the pink earth pony baker so that she could pay for the baked goods when the ponies whom the colonel presumed constituted her ‘command staff’ finally filed in, mostly all at once. Major Rarity led the procession, raising a mildly surprised brow in the purple unicorn’s direction when she spotted her new CO seating at the head of the room’s conference table. Her eyes lingered on the plethora of parchment sprawled out on the one end of the table. On her hocks followed Captain Applejack, who likewise briefly cocked her head at Twilight’s appearance before nodding and taking her place at the table. Much to Twilight’s surprise, after the orange earth pony was the chiffon pegasus who’d treated her at the clinic. This surprise was compounded by the fact that the pegasus was not wearing her white doctor’s coat this time, but instead sported the same deep blue duty uniform that Twilight and Rarity were wearing. The only glaring difference being the crimson tabs at her shoulders which identified the pegasus as being a part of the Equestrian militaries Medical Corps. Twilight was similarly shocked to see that ‘Doctor’ Fluttershy was actually Major Fluttershy. A single blue eye briefly glanced in the unicorn’s direction before looking back straight ahead as the physician took her own seat at the table. One that was as far as possible from Twilight. The purple mare suppressed a sigh. The two of them had clearly gotten off on the wrong hoof, and Twilight wasn’t sure what could be done to change that. However, the two of them didn’t have to like each other to work together. She hoped. “Are we waiting on anypony else?” Twilight asked her executive officer. The ivory unicorn nodded, “Actually, colonel, there is one more pony. As it’s just about time for the eight o’clock perimeter sweep, I suspect she’ll be here—” The mare abruptly stopped, her head cocking slightly to the side as an ear turned. It took a couple of seconds for Twilight to realize that the other unicorn was listening to the ringing of the fortress’ bell tower as it announced the arrival of eight o’clock in the morning. “—shortly.” Twilight frowned, wondering what the mare meant by that. She was about to ask when the resounding gongs of the clock tower were joined by a faint rumbling reminiscent of thunder. However, an earlier glance out of a window on her way to the conference room had assured Twilight that the weather that day was going to be clear and cloudless. So there shouldn’t have been any thundering storm clouds anywhere near the fortress. Just before the bell rang its final toll, a microburst of wind suddenly blew into the room. Twilight reflexively threw up a protective ward as she recoiled from the table. None of the other ponies reacted to the unexpected squall in the room though. If anything, their expressions were resigned as they set about resetting their manes and tails. As suddenly as it had begun, the maelstrom was over with. In its wake it left Twilight’s notes scattered throughout the room, and a new pony slumped over the table with a bored expression on her face. The cerulean blue pegasus mare sported a mane which came in the full colors of the rainbow, which would be out of regulations if the look was achieved through dyeing. Though largely unkempt, the style of it was—barely—permissible. The same went for the state of her sage green flight suit, which identified her as belonging to the military’s Air Corps. Twilight dropped her ward. Then reached out with her telekinesis to retrieve her notes, reorganizing them back onto the table. All the while her narrowed purple eyes didn’t leave the yawning new arrival. “...Captain Rainbow Dash, I presume?” The mention of her name prompted the pegasus to perk up and look at the purple unicorn. “You’ve heard of me?” Her expression quickly assumed a satisfied smirk as the captain set about giving her hoof a faux polish on the front of her uniform. “Well, of course you must’ve heard of me,” she decided in a tone that Twilight believed could only be described as: narcissistic. “I’m only the best flier in the whole world! “A reputation like that’s bound to get around.” There was a lot that Twilight wanted to say by way of comment on that. However, in the interest of maintaining a properly professional decorum at her first official meeting with the ponies she’d be working with during her tenure at Harmony Fortress, the unicorn elected to keep those thoughts to herself. For now. Those thoughts would undoubtedly find form in the world when she was writing up the pegasus captain’s annual review… Until then, however, “I’d like to start out this meeting by first thanking all of you for attending on such short notice. I don’t know your normal schedules, so I apologize if this encroached on your other duties.” Her eyes darted briefly to the blue pegasus. Twilight made a note to host future briefings like this well after eight o’clock. Assuming she didn’t reorganize the perimeter sweep schedule instead. “I realize that I’ve met most of you already,” Twilight continued, briefly noting the two mares in the room that she hadn’t seen in the flesh, “but this is our first formal meeting, and so proper introductions are in order. “I’m Colonel Twilight Sparkle. As of midnight this morning, per my orders from Equestria Command,” her magic lanced out and retrieved a short stack of papers. Each of the other ponies received a copy, “I am assuming command and governorship of Harmony Fortress.” Rarity and Applejack both gave their copies of the order a cursory glance. The two pegasi didn’t bother to look at their copies at all. Fluttershy had yet to make any additional eye contact with Twilight since she’d entered, and Rainbow Dash had apparently found some aspect of one of the pocket flaps on her flight suit more engrossing than Twilight’s speech. Twilight endeavored to ignore being ignored. “Now I’d like to get to know all of you a little. So if all of you would care to introduce yourselves and tell me a little about you? Major, would you start us off?” She nodded towards the other unicorn. Rarity nodded. “Of course, ma’am. I’m Major Rarity, Chief of Operations. I’ll also be serving as your executive officer, assuming you’ll have me.” There was a hint of a question in the mare’s tone, to which Twilight offered a nod of confirmation. Certainly for the time being. Twilight hardly knew enough about either this mare or Harmony’s other officers to go about reassigning ponies right off the bat. “I’ve been managing Harmony for the last eight months, overseeing final construction and its being opened for formal occupation. “Prior to this assignment, I served in Canterlot on General Firefly’s staff. I have a letter of recommendation from her, if you’d like to see it, colonel?” “Thank you, major, but that won’t be necessary,” Twilight assured the other unicorn. “I know the general. If she had you working for her, then that already speaks volumes about you in my book.” She flashed her XO a smile of her own. “I look forward to working with you.” Rarity inclined her head politely before all attention turned to Applejack. “Cap’n Applejack, colonel,” the orange earth pony announced, “Harmony’s Chief of Security. Born ‘n raised in Dodge Junction. Back when there was a Dodge Junction. Was working as a deputy there before The War,” the mare added in a sober tone. The whole room was quiet for several seconds as the gathered ponies allowed a moment of silent respect in remembrance of one of Equestria’s—many—cities which had not survived the confrontation with the zebras. At least it was just reduced to rubble and not turned into a lake. It’s being rebuilt. “Been on Harmony since they set down the first stone,” she resumed. “Ain’t nopony here who knows this place better’n me, colonel. An’that includes most of the creatures in it.” Twilight nodded. “I recall our conversation yesterday.” There was a hint of a frown as the unicorn recalled the witnessed confrontation between the two ambassadors. She also recalled how Applejack had managed to defuse the situation. “You’re very good at your job.” The freckled face broke out into a broad smile. “Well thank ya kindly, colonel!” Harmony’s new commander turned her attention down the table to the next pony in line: Fluttershy. She waited to see if the major would need to be prompted to speak with her or not. “...Doctor Fluttershy. Chief of Personnel and head of MedOps.” The tone had been as calm and inoffensive as it had been quiet. Nothing further was offered. Twilight once more suppressed a sigh and prompted, “and before Harmony, where were you assigned?” She almost missed the furtive looks exchanged between Applejack and Rarity, as well as the soft response from the yellow pegasus. “...Fetlock.” The purple unicorn blinked in mild surprise. She immediately recognized the name: Camp Fetlock—which went by the formal title of: Camp Fetlock Disciplinary Paddock—served primarily as a place to house members of the Equestrian military who’d violated laws and regulations to such a degree as to warrant punitive confinement. Twilight waited for elaboration to follow the physician’s admission. When it did not, she prompted again, “...as part of its medical staff?” Every other pony seated at the table shifted uncomfortably in their seats, to include Rainbow Dash. Fluttershy did not. “...No.” There were a dozen or more follow-up questions that Twilight wanted to ask of the mare. However, she recognized that, in front of the rest of her senior officers, was not the place to do it. Twilight would pull the doctor’s file and review her service history in private. Then, if she still had any pressing concerns, she’d arrange for a one-on-one meeting. For the moment, the unicorn was prepared to assume that the ponies in charge of picking out Harmony’s staff had known what they were doing. Lest Twilight be placed in a position where she might have to question whether those same ponies had been thinking straight when they assigned her here too… “Captain Rainbow Dash,” Twilight not-so-expertly redirected, “I understand you’re the leader of Wonderbolt Squadron?” The cerulean pegasus deigned to stop fidgeting with her uniform long enough to address her new CO. “I’m in charge of all of Harmony’s air wings,” the flier clarified. “But I do lead Wonderbolt Squadron personally. They’re the best, so they deserve to have the best flight lead!” The mare was grinning now. “I see. And your prior assignment?” “I don’t have one,” Rainbow admitted, though her smile barely faltered. “This is my first gig.” Twilight blinked again. “You’re fresh out of Flight School?” The pegasus nodded, still beaming. The unicorn’s eyes darted to the silver horseshoe on the flight suit’s collar so that she could confirm the rank that was there. “...And they made you a captain? And gave you…” Twilight consulted her notes. “Four flights to command?” The pegasus could not have looked more self-satisfied as she straightened up and once more made a show of polishing her hoof on her uniform. “What can I say? I’m just that good!” “Ma’am.” “Huh?” Twilight narrowed her eyes at the prismatic-maned mare. “You are speaking with an officer of higher rank and your commander,” the unicorn pointed out to the flier. “You are in the military, you are an officer, you are aware of the customs and courtesies regulations dictate. “Thus, you will—at least occasionally—address me by either ‘colonel’ or ‘ma’am’ when we’re speaking. “Is that clear, Captain Rainbow Dash?” The pegasus ceased to ‘polish’ her hoof and returned Twilight’s narrowed gaze with a slight glare of her own. For a long while, no words were exchanged as the two ponies regarded each other. Eventually, the junior officer relented, lowering herself back to her seat. “...Yeah. Ma’am.” This time Twilight elected not to suppress the sigh that refused to be contained any longer. It wasn’t the worst command staff that she’d ever encountered. She at least appeared to have genuinely competent ponies to work with—that, in and of itself, was actually something of a minor miracle in the military. At the end of the day, the purple mare supposed that was what mattered most: that she had ponies who could do their jobs. It would have been preferred that she could get along with them on a personal level, but that was really more of a luxury than a requirement as far as Twilight was concerned. She could make this work. If, down the road, it turned out that this assumption on her part had been mistaken, then it was within her power as Harmony’s commander to make staffing changes anyway. Twilight took a deep breath and let it out slowly before addressing all four officers. “I would like SITREPS from each of your departments on my desk by tomorrow evening, along with copies of the last six months of status reports. I need to know where your departments stand right now, along with what you’ve been having to deal with. Part of my responsibility to you, as your commander, is to make sure that all of you have the resources and ponypower to do your jobs effectively. To do that, I need to know what sort of demands you’re facing in the course of normal operations. “Additionally,” Twilight’s full attention was on Rarity now, “major, I understand that you’ve been filling in as Equestria’s representative pro tem during council meetings until I arrived?” “Yes, ma’am,” the other unicorn nodded. “I’ve mostly been taking notes, as I was not given any authority to cast votes on motions before the Council.” “I’d like the minutes from the last few meetings by the end of the day, along with the agenda for the next meeting.” A thought occurred to Twilight. “When is the next meeting?” “One o’clock, ma’am.” The purple mare blinked. “One o’clock...today?” “Yes, ma’am.” Twilight closed her eyes in a deep wince. “...I’ll need those meeting minutes before ten,” she amended. The smile which touched Rarity’s muzzle was sympathetic. “I’ll get them as soon as we’re done here, colonel.” “Thank you. “I didn’t really have that much that I wanted to say to all of you,” Twilight admitted to the group. “This was just about formal introductions; putting faces to duties. And now I’ll let you get back to those duties. “Apologies if the timing of this cut into your normal schedules,” she went on, trying not to look too pointedly at Rainbow Dash. “I’m happy to hold our next staff meeting at a time that’s more convenient for everypony.” This earned her a nod from everypony, even Fluttershy. “You’re all dismissed.” The other four ponies all stood up and started to make their way towards the door. “Captain Applejack?” The orange earth pony paused and looked back towards Twilight with a raised eyebrow. “If you could, I’d like you to track somepony down for me.” The other brow rose to unite with its partner. “Y’all didn’t waste no time in puttin’ together a ‘hit list’, huh, colonel?” “What? No! A pony in the market gave me a huge basket of baked goods yesterday. Per regulations, I can’t accept gifts over a certain value, so I need to pay her, but she ran off before I could,” Twilight explained. “You said you knew just about every creature on the island. “Could you get me her address so I can send over payment?” Applejack shrugged, “Can’t see why not. Ah assume y’ain’t got a name?” The unicorn shook her head. “Figured. Ah can probably make a description work, ma’am. Hit me.” “Pink earth pony mare, pinker curly mane, blue eyes. About our age, I’d say.” Twilight tried not to lick her lips too visibly as she said the next part. “Extremely skilled baker. You can probably find her by following your nose, honestly.” Twilight resolved to eat one of the cupcakes that was calling to her from her saddlebag as a second late breakfast. Applejack was frowning now. “Ah know the bakers on the island. That ain’t one Ah recognize,” she admitted. “Could be a new arrival,” the security chief added with a shrug. “I’ll ask around and let you know what I find, ma’am.” “Thank you, captain. Dismissed,” Twilight repeated, finally excusing the mare she’d held back. She then gathered her papers and left the conference room as well, heading back towards her quarters. She’d hoped to be afforded a chance to settle into her new office that morning, but apparently she was going to need to spend every moment she had today preparing for her inaugural Council meeting. With just a little over four hours to prepare, Twilight was hoping that the day’s agenda was going to be a light one… Twilight resolved to eat a real meal at some point. Ideally, some proper vegetables would probably go a long way towards settling her down. Grilled with some light oil and seasoning. Pepper, a pinch of salt, a little rosemary… That would be nice. Or it would have been, if she’d actually had the time to spare to head down to the dining facility. Or head out into the civilian quarter to visit a cafe or restaurant. She didn’t. Not with her first meeting with the Council looming just over the horizon. Twilight had too much to review if she didn’t want to outright embarrass Equestria on the diplomatic stage. So, instead, she made do with eating half of a rhubarb pie while she skimmed through her copy of The Practice of Diplomacy. Even for her, giving the better part of two hundred pages of Prances Chevalier's preeminent text on negotiation a proper read-through wasn’t feasible. To say nothing about digesting the information and ruminating on how best to put it into practice. The best that the unicorn could hope to do was skim a few key points and hope that they provided her with something of a foundation to work with— A knock at the door produced a wince from the purple mare. She’d been working very hard not to watch the time too closely, lest seeing the appropriate hour grow nearer make her too anxious to concentrate on her reading. She had asked for Major Rarity to come and fetch her when it was time to go. Then she’d hung a ‘Do Not Disturb’ sign outside of her office. Which meant that the knocking was probably coming from only one pony, and they were here for only one reason. “Colonel?” The now familiar high society accent of her executive officer managed to make its way through the door. “The Council will be starting in fifteen minutes.” Which means that I’m already late, for all intents and purposes, Twilight internally acknowledged. She wasn’t just Equestria’s representative in the meeting. Harmony Fortress was the host of the diplomatic missions for the other governments, and since this island was technically ‘Equestrian soil’, that meant that Twilight was expected to officiate the Council meetings. She should already be there, greeting the other ambassadors as they arrived. ‘...making a favorable impression on those around her…’ According to the book Twilight was skimming, that was an important quality for a good negotiator. If she was late, that was going to be harder to accomplish. “Coming,” the unicorn said, getting up from behind her desk and trotting to the door. She grabbed her saddlebags with her telekinesis and threw them over her back. Rarity was standing in the hallway, a sheaf of paper held aloft in her own shimmering blue field. She passed it to the other unicorn and the two began to trot briskly towards the large meeting hall which hosted the Council’s negotiations. “The agenda for today’s meeting,” the major informed her. Twilight floated the piece of paper in front of her, relying on her XO to guide her away from running anypony else over as they traveled. “Minosian-Saddle Arabian territorial water dispute…Equestrian-Mulenese wheat tariffs…” The purple mare raised a curious brow as she glanced at the other unicorn walking with her. “‘Other business’, submitted by Ambassador Ember? What does that mean?” “‘Trouble’, more likely than not,” Rarity said under her breath, flashing a mirthless smile in her commander’s direction. “A dragon flew in yesterday morning carrying a diplomatic pouch. One of those big ones—the dragon, not the pouch. Long distance flier. Probably came here directly from the Dragon Lands.” Twilight nodded, aware that some of the larger proper wyrms were quite easily capable of crossing the ocean without needing to land for dozens of hours. “Another flew in after sunset,” Rarity went on. “Given that Ember only added that last item this morning, I can only assume that whatever ‘business’ she wishes to bring before the Council has to be related to those. “Incidentally, a ship from the Griffonian Republic arrived at the Mission Docks a couple of hours ago,” Rarity added. “Steam paddled and schooner rigged.” The last was said while casting Twilight a knowing eye. The purple mare frowned thoughtfully. While not quite on the same technological footing as the zebras, the griffons were still ahead of ponies. Their ships were mostly still made of wood, but they were no longer strictly bound to the fickle nature of the wind when crossing the seas. They’d found a way to harness burning coal in order to make their ships move even in the midst of a calm. Or even outright against the direction of the wind. However, unlike what the zebras could manage, Twilight’s understanding was that griffon ships which exclusively used such methods of locomotion were a little slower than an expertly-handled galleon of a comparable size. And they could only carry so much coal besides. So their ships still possessed sails. But…a griffon ship which caught favorable winds while employing both their sails and their coal-fired propulsion was capable of achieving great speeds. These ships generally carried extremely urgent messages. While it was certainly possible that the dragons and griffons just happened to be exchanging missives on time-sensitive matters which had nothing to do with each other…It was also ‘possible’ that her brother would show up at the Harmony docks alive and well. Twilight quickly crunched the numbers on the odds and determined that the latter was more probable to occur. She didn’t like this. “Find Applejack; I want extra guards posted near the Council Chambers,” the purple unicorn said. “Not in the room,” she added by way of clarification, “just nearby. In case the negotiations get…” Twilight grasped around for a suitably ‘diplomatic’ way of framing things. “Heated?” Rarity offered. “Exactly.” Given that a dragon was involved, Twilight hoped that she could keep anything from getting ‘heated’, be it the negotiations…or the negotiators. They finally arrived at the entrance to the Council Chambers. “I’ll go and find Applejack,” said Rarity. “Good luck, colonel.” “Thank you, major,” Twilight replied with a sigh. “I’ll probably need it…” The Citadel’s Council Chambers were probably one of the larger singular rooms on the island—unless there was a theater that she wasn’t aware of. They had to be, as they needed to host official delegations from all of the world’s nations. And some of those delegations came in quite significant sizes, like the minotaurs. Even when that wasn’t the case, when a race wasn’t particularly large in size themselves, it would do to issue the perceived slight by granting them substantially less space than most of the others. Twilight kept herself from staring too long at the breezy delegation’s table. Which was smaller than the book that she’d been reading in her office…which was in turn sitting upon another table of a more typical size. “Colonel Sparkle,” Twilight turned at the sound of the lightly accented voice and found herself looking into a pair of turquoise eyes— The tensing of her muscles was reflexive. Still. Ponies and zebras had been at peace with each other for longer than they’d been at war, but even after ten years, it seemed that some habits refused to die easily. “—I am grateful to see that you made it to Harmony Fortress safely…” It took Twilight a few seconds to force herself to relax. She even managed to get something approaching a smile to spread across her lips as she regarded the zebra mare standing before her. Twilight wasn’t a great judge of age when it came to members of many of the other races, but she at least presumed that the striped mare was older than herself. She was wearing a soft blue dress that seemed to wrap around her barrel. Large golden bangles hung from her lofted ears, framing a black and white striped mane which rose straight up above her head and down the nape of her neck, reminding Twilight somewhat of the fin on the back of a fish. Or a shark… The purple mare mentally brushed aside the unkind thought. Zebras and ponies were allies. Now. For some reason. Those eyes… “Have we met?” Twilight asked. Her words sounded abrupt even to her own ears, perhaps even a little rude in tone in a setting like this. She made an attempt at some sort of recovery. “You seem familiar, is all.” The striped mare maintained her polite smile, not seeming the least bit put off by the unicorn. “I am certain that the two of us have never been formally introduced before, colonel. Perhaps you met a zebra who resembles me? “Not to cast aspersions on you, personally, but it has been my observation that one zebra looks much like another to most ponies.” There was nothing particularly biting about the zebra’s observation. “Something about our monochrome appearance when compared to the more pastel of the average pony.” It struck Twilight as more of an explanation than a veiled insult. Twilight took the offered ‘out’ and nodded. “I’m sure you’re right. I’m sorry if I offended you, Ambassador…?” The unicorn was mostly guessing at the title. More than half the creatures in the room at the moment were either an ambassador or a consul-general—depending on how much importance the represented nation placed on Harmony’s mission. “Zecora,” she answered with a slight incline of her head. When she straightened back up, she gestured around the steadily filling room. Her hoof eventually settled on the table at the front of the chamber where the so-called ‘Major Powers’ would be hosted during the meeting. “Have you had an opportunity to meet the other delegates?” The purple mare recalled her ‘encounter’ with the ambassadors from the griffons and dragon yesterday and was in the process of coming up with a sarcastic quip regarding that point when she suddenly found herself at a loss for words. Twilight had just caught sight of the last thus-far-unaccounted-for ambassador who would be sitting in with the other Major Powers. There was a lot that went into the determination by the international community as to what it was that constituted a nation being a ‘major’ power. After all, the implication was that any race which was not counted among that number was a de facto minor power—and few wished to voluntarily claim such a title for themselves. However, political grandstanding aside, there was an acknowledgement that some nations were simply ‘greater’ than others by some metric. With the griffons, it was the sheer size of their empire—they could insist that it was a ‘republic’ all they wanted. It was nearly impossible to find a land mass of significant size which didn’t host at least one griffon settlement. Where they couldn’t find open land to build on that wasn’t already occupied, they would use their force of arms to create ‘newly opened’ land to build on. This expansion had slowed down in the last century or so, but that still left The Griffonian Republic with one of the largest—in terms of land area—nations in the world. It was hard for any creature to contest that they weren’t a ‘major power’. Their longtime rivals, the dragons, were another easy contender for the title. While their own nation had relatively recently been directly subordinate to the griffons, the fact that they’d thrown out such a powerful occupier where most others couldn’t had caught the attention of the world. They weren’t as technologically advanced as most races, and their country consisted of little more than the island of their origin, but they were the undisputed most physically powerful of all the other races in the world—with perhaps a single exception. You didn’t easily tell a dragon ‘no’ when they asked to sit somewhere. Even when that ‘somewhere’ was at the head table in the Council Chambers. The zebras had been an uncontested addition as well. Their Commonwealth might not have been as expansive as the griffon republic’s, and they might not have been much physically tougher than the average pony, but their technology… There wasn’t a race on the planet that was dumb enough to pick a fight with the zebras—not even the griffons tried to muscle the zebras off their land. Well, there weren’t any races who were that dumb anymore anyway, Twilight amended with a bitter thought. There were boxes that could be checked when it came to deciding what made a race a ‘major power’. The size of their nation. The raw power of the creatures in question. The sophistication of their technology. Their raw magical potency. Colonel Twilight Sparkle had never seen an alicorn before; but that didn’t stop her from immediately recognizing the towering white mare as being one. The descriptions she’d heard—at least, the ones that she’d deemed to be reasonably reliable—didn’t do her appearance justice. The alicorn was tall—taller than any equine that Twilight had ever seen. At a glance she had a mane and tail, but the unicorn questioned whether or not those were the proper terminologies to use when trying to describe the billowing ethereal masses of soft pastel hues which flowed around her body as if being constantly subjected to a breeze which no other could feel. Massive wings were folded serenely at her sides, giving Twilight the impression of swan. The horn protruding from her head was easily three times the length of any typical unicorn’s, and ended in a fine point rather than the tapered curve that was typical of a pony. “May I introduce Ambassador Celestia?” Zecora said, seemingly oblivious to the awed expression on the unicorn officer’s face. “Ambassador, this is Colonel Twilight Sparkle of the United Tribes of Equestria. She is to be the pony representative on Harmony, as well as the fort’s commander.” Twilight’s ear flicked. She was about to turn her head and inquire as to how the striped mare seemed to know so much about her, but then her focus was quickly recaptured by the towering alicorn who was approaching them. “Colonel Sparkle,” the alicorn greeted with a nod. Lilac eyes framed by pristine white fur looked down at Twilight. “I have heard a lot about you.” The smaller mare blanched. Her mind raced with the possible implication of that statement, and few of them boded well for her. In the best case, Twilight’s government had sent on a short biography of the representative that they were assigning to Harmony to the alicorns. In the worst case… Her eyes darted briefly to the zebra mare beside her, who appeared to be far more comfortable in the presence of the taller alabaster mare. Twilight had a reputation among the zebras. She had a name. Had Zecora told Celestia about the name? About what Twilight had done to earn it—? The unicorn’s thoughts were diverted by a commotion at the main entrance for the Council Chamber. All eyes in the room turned as one towards the sight of the furious gold and white griffon hen who was presently barging her way past a few other delegates who she’d decided were in her way as she made a beeline for the main table reserved for the representatives of the world’s major powers. However, her fiery eyes didn’t seem to notice the unicorn, zebra, or even the alicorn standing near it. Her attention was laser-focused on the azure dragoness who was already reclining back in her seat, seemingly more interested in the condition of her claws than the commotion heading directly for her. That was certainly how it seemed. From where Twilight was standing, she could see the talons on the dragon’s hind feet splaying out, her legs tensing, ready to vault over the table when the timing was just right. There was going to be another fight, Twilight realized. Nor had she been the only one. Captain Applejack must have sensed that the griffon ambassador’s demeanor could only lead to one outcome and was hot on the hen’s heels. The earth pony didn’t have her rope on her though, and the griffon was moving fast. Nocreature else was moving to intervene. They all seemed content to watch whatever ruckus was about to unfold on the chamber floor. It wasn’t their fault. They were political appointees. Stopping fights wasn’t their job, assuming that any of them even had any meaningful training in how to subdue an opponent. Even Zecora and Celestia seemed content to just spectate. The former seemed annoyed; the latter just looked bored. Having two ambassadors throw down on the Council Chamber floor before the first meeting she hosted probably wasn’t going to earn her a particularly glowing performance review from Equestria Command, Twilight thought to herself. This was also a perfect opportunity to make a good impression on the other delegates. Or, at the very least, demonstrate that the representative from Equestria wasn’t going to be a push-over during future negotiations. “Ambassador Gilda!” Twilight said. By way of a particularly forceful greeting as the small purple unicorn interposed her body in the griffon’s path, causing her to draw up short. “How good of you to finally join us,” the mare continued on. “Though you seem to have passed your seat. Allow me to show you to it—” “Out of my way, pony,” the griffon snarled, her attention barely wavering from the still nonplussed-looking dragon. “This ain’t any of your business—!” “Seeing as how I’m Equestia’s plenipotentiary representative and the one presiding over these proceedings, I’d say that makes everything that happens in this room ‘my business’, ambassador,” Twilight responded immediately with a near growl of her own, doing all she could to increase the perceived appearance of her much smaller stature as she faced off against the larger griffon. “To say nothing of my concurrent position as Harmony’s commander; which makes everything that happens on this whole island my business! “Now, ambassador, you will take your seat and voice whatever…issue you have with the dragon representative at the prescribed time in a civilized manner.” Twilight spared a moment to glance past the griffon, noting that Applejack and two other uniformed ponies were standing at the ready just in case. “Am I clear?” The faintest glimmer of shock was visible on the griffon’s face when Twilight delivered her ultimatum. It was clear that that ambassador wasn’t used to getting talked to like that. Probably from any creature, but certainly least of all from a pony. Griffons were big, generally ornery, and possessed sharp talons and a beak designed to rend flesh from the bones of their prey. Most ponies found the mere presence of a griffon intimidating; least of all the sight of one who was very clearly quite pissed off! Little intimidated Twilight after Canterhorn though. There was a moment where Twilight started to believe that Applejack’s intervention was going to become necessary. Fortunately for all concerned, Gilda eventually took a step back. “Fine.” Her expression was still etched with fury, and the words she spoke burned with a barely-repressed rage, but she stepped back and stalked her way over to her seat at the head table. “Washing her blood out of my feathers would be a drag anyway…” Twilight let the comment go without further remark. She also shot Ambassador Ember a preemptive look to ensure that the dragoness did the same. It felt like it wouldn’t take much to spark a fight that the unicorn wouldn’t be able to stop with just a few firm words. Thankfully, the dragoness appeared content to simply continue to go about tending to her claws, acting as though she’d been completely oblivious to the griffon’s arrival. There was even a satisfied smile curling her lips. As grateful as the purple unicorn was that the situation didn’t look like it was going to be escalated by either party, there was a part of her that couldn’t help but feel like it was too good to be true. She hadn’t known either ambassador for any worthwhile length of time, true; but being introduced to the pair by way of being made an unwilling part of their brawl yesterday had left an impression on the colonel. Applejack’s later revelation that such fights occurred with some frequency hadn’t helped matters either. She found herself unable to trust that this meeting wouldn’t see at least some amount of blood being spilled by its end. They’d cross that bridge when they came to it. In the meantime, “If everycreature could take their seats?” Twilight began, giving the rest of the gathered representatives a nod. She flashed an appreciative look in the direction of the head of the island’s security detail as well, giving her a silent dismissal. The orange earth pony touched a hoof to her not-quite-regulation hat and withdrew from the chamber, taking up position close enough outside to respond promptly if tempers flared again. Twilight took a cleansing breath and made her way over to her own designated seat of the head table, positioned between Zecora and Celestia. Gilda and Ember sat at the outer edges, placed as far from each other as was possible. The unicorn wasn’t certain if that arrangement had been imposed on the pair to keep them out of claw’s reach, or if they had decided unprompted that they didn’t want to be any closer to each other as was absolutely necessary. She caught the towering alabaster alicorn peering down at her out of the corner of her eye, a small smile curling the corner of her mouth. The expression was there for only a moment before the ambassador of the enigmatic race was once more facing outward towards the rest of the assembled delegates. To the purple mare’s other side, the zebra maintained a much more impassive expression. Twilight couldn’t recall either mare reacting to the griffon’s arrival. Perhaps they were just used to it? Twilight waited for every creature to be seated. Then she began the day’s proceedings. “Very well; welcome everycreature and thank you for your presence here today. For those of you who do not know, my name is Twilight Sparkle, and I have been appointed to represent The United Tribes of Equestria and to officiate these meetings. “I want to state upfront that I believe in Harmony’s mission wholeheartedly. It is my sincere desire to see every creature and nation in this world prosper in a shared peace. It is an endeavor that will take all of us working together.” It proved somewhat difficult for Twilight not to look in the direction of either Gilda or Ember. “To that end: let us then begin.” Twilight glanced down at the day’s docket. “The first item on the agenda for today’s meeting is—” Gilda suddenly shot up out of her seat, slamming a talon-tipped hand down on the table. “I’m making a motion to raise an emergency issue before this council!” While the unicorn had initially jerked in surprise at the outburst, she was narrowing her gaze at the griffon now. She’d hoped to make it at least a full minute into her first meeting before having to deal with a disruption from one of those two. Twilight bit back the first retort that presented itself and opted for one that was more diplomatic. According to the book she’d been reading that morning, maintaining control of a negotiation was paramount; and doing so with poise strengthened one’s position later. Besides, her tone notwithstanding, Gilda—and indeed, any representative—did have the right to bring an issue to the forefront of discussion if they believed it was serious enough. The difference with the griffons, and indeed any of the recognized major powers, was that her motion didn’t require a ‘second’ to be sustained. “Very well,” Twilight said in as even a tone as she could manage. “The ambassador of the Griffonian Republic is recognized. “Please state the issue you would like to raise.” Gilda jabbed a talon in the direction of the still very nonplussed-looking dragoness. “I just got word that the dragons launched a surprise invasion of the Republic!” The other delegates all began to murmur amongst themselves at the revelation. Ember still did not react. “We griffons demand that the dragons be censured, or sanctioned, or embargoed, or whatever else can be done to punish them!” The feathered feline was glaring at Twilight and Zecora now. “The whole point of this ‘council’ was supposed to be about ‘enforcing the peace’, right?! So enforce it!” The murmuring devolved into much more lively verbal exchanges now, but not between Gilda and Ember—the dragon still had yet to say a word. No, it was the minor representatives who were growing increasingly uneasy. For, while they might all be independent sovereign nations, nearly all of them had signed treaties of one sort or another with either the griffons or the dragons. If a shooting war did erupt between the two races, then it would inevitably drag most of the rest of the world into it. Thus the other delegates were understandably concerned. “Because if this council won’t, I can promise you that the Griffonian Republic will. If we’re not satisfied with what this council does today, then there will be war!” Author's Note Don't you hate it when you show up to your first day of work and somebody goes and does a war? As always, a thumbs up and comment are always greatly appreciated If you like the cover art and want to see more stories get them, I've set up a Cover Art Fund if you're interested and have any bits lying around!
Chapter 3: Learning CurveWar. Twilight’s first day on the job as Equestria’s representative and the shepherd of the council that was supposed to ensure lasting world peace…and there was already the very real possibility that they could all get pulled into a war. The representatives from among the minor powers were all but shouting at each other now. Half of them had treaties with the griffons. Many of those treaties were mutual defense pacts of one sort or another—some of which were more extortionate than others. The rest of those powers had nearly identical treaties with the dragons. Five minutes ago, all of those races had been ready to work together to maintain the peace. Now battle lines were being drawn. Twilight looked to the zebra ambassador sitting to her right. Zecora, as the more experienced diplomat, was her initial preferred source for advice on how to defuse the situation. The unicorn looked almost pleadingly at the striped equine. “How do I stop this?” She asked under her breath, leaning in close to prevent her question from being overheard. Zecora didn’t immediately respond to Twilight's question. Instead, she glanced over the purple mare’s head and appeared to exchange a look with the alicorn on the pony’s other side. Twilight didn’t turn in time to catch the expression on the taller mare’s face, and she hadn’t heard anything spoken aloud. However, it seemed that Zecora had received whatever guidance she’d been looking for. The zebra shrugged. “The griffons and dragons always find something to fight over. Perhaps a war between them is something that cannot be stopped?” She shook her head and pushed back from the table, a clear sign that she was not going to involve herself in this matter. Twilight bit back her frustration at being denied helpful advice from the zebra and instead turned to the alicorn on her left once more. “Ambassador Celestia—” “Our policy is to not involve ourselves in the conflicts between other creatures,” the towering white mare intoned with a passive expression. “We will not take sides here.” “Not even the side of peace?!” Twilight shot back in a low frustrated growl. “I hear no talk of ‘peace’ in these chambers today,” Celestia observed with a frown at the smaller unicorn. Twilight bit down on her resentment at the lack of assistance that she was receiving from the others. Why did they seem so content to let this catastrophe play out without trying to do anything to stop it?! Twilight knew why she wasn’t immediately jumping into action: this was her first day as a diplomat; she didn’t know what to do! She’d been studying up on this subject for only a hoofful of weeks; she was a complete novice! Meanwhile, those who should have been deft hooves at this sort of thing were simply sitting back and allowing Ambassador Gilda to whip the room into a near frenzy. Twilight refused to believe—though Zecora and Celestia were certainly more knowledgeable about high-stakes political dealings than the unicorn—that inaction was the most beneficial move here. Somecreature needed to do something! Unfortunately for them all, it looked like that ‘somecreature’ was going to have to be Twilight. First things first, the purple mare thought to herself as she stood up from the table to her full height, gain control. Twilight brought her hoof down on the table’s surface. “Order!” She cried out at the top of her lungs, throwing the full weight of Authority into her voice that years of being a commander of ponies on the battlefield had granted her. “There will be order in this chamber!” Much to the unicorn’s surprise—though she didn’t let it show too plainly on her face—the room quieted down almost immediately, with every delegate turning towards the mare. A great many of them wore shocked expressions. A few even looked visibly cowed by Twilight’s fierce glare. “Ambassador Gilda still retains the floor; all others will be silent until they are called to speak! “And you will retake your seats!” She added, fixing pointed looks on those representatives who had risen from their places to better direct their vitriol at potential future adversaries. It wasn’t long before every creature was seated and quiet once more. Good. Now to try and solve the problem. But I can’t do that without first defining the variables— “Ambassador Gilda,” Twilight said at a much lower volume, fighting to hide her exasperation with the griffon for the disruption that she’d provoked. Likely deliberately. “Would you care to elaborate? You claim that the dragons ‘invaded’ the Republic…?” It proved impossible for the purple unicorn to completely mask her skepticism. While the animosity that existed between the griffons and the dragons was well known to everycreature on the planet, and a conflict between the two was hardly unbelievable…the fact remained that, hypothetically, a full military invasion of the Griffonian Republic by the dragons wasn’t feasible. The individual size of some dragons notwithstanding, they didn’t have the numbers to hold a significant amount of griffon territory. Launching the sort of attack that the ambassador had described would lead to an inevitable counter-offensive by the numerically—and still narrowly technologically—superior feathered felines. Stereotypes aside, Twilight didn’t believe that the dragons were actually dumb enough to do something that stupid. “I’m not ‘claiming’ anything!” Gilda spat back, glaring at the pony now just as fiercely as she’d been at Ambassador Ember. “It’s a fact!” To emphasize her point, the griffon held up a roll of parchment that was clutched in her talons. She all but hurled it at Twilight, who deftly caught the half-crumpled scroll in her telekinesis and unfurled it. “A flight of dragons landed on the Republic island of Ragnar and took the population hostage!” The griffon representative declared, succinctly summarizing what Twilight was presently reading on the supplied scroll. “Republic citizens living on Republic territory! That’s an invasion; and the dragons did it!” The murmurs began to rise up once more from the wider gallery. Twilight kept them from escalating any further with a fierce glare across the chamber and some firm taps of her hoof on the table. Her eyes then returned to the scroll and finished looking over its contents. It essentially mirrored what Gilda had just told them, albeit going into more detail. Apparently the invasion—and that did appear to be the best way to describe the events at present—had been witnessed and reported by a small cargo steamship that was leaving the island just as the dragons arrived. Though it had been a griffon cargo vessel, Twilight noted. Not exactly an unbiased source… …And Ambassador Ember still hasn’t said anything, the unicorn noted, glancing at the still seemingly disinterested dragon. Either because she knows it’s horseapples and can prove it, or… Twilight lowered the scroll and nodded towards Gilda. “Thank you for bringing this matter to the attention of the Council, Ambassador.” The griffon hen remained standing, but gave the unicorn a nod before once more fixing her eagle-eyed glare on the sapphire-hued dragon sitting across from her. The unicorn rethought the wisdom of seating the pair of feuding representatives in direct line of sight of each other before turning now to seek a response to the rather serious allegations that had been made. “Ambassador Ember? Would you like to offer an explanation? Did your government authorize an invasion of Republic territory?” There was the possibility that Gilda was wholly correct and a flight of dragons had landed on the island; but not every dragon in the world answered to the Dragon Lord. There was the possibility—the hope—that these dragons were simply brigands or raiders acting on their own. If that proved to be the case, then the griffons would be hard-pressed to escalate the situation into an all-out war. Not with international support at least… Ember finally glanced up from her self-administered manicure and favored the unicorn with a wry smirk. “Of course we didn’t invade the Republic’s island,” the dragon replied casually. Twilight allowed herself a small sigh of relief. If the dragons were unaffiliated with the government of the Dragon Lands then— “We were invited,” the scaled representative added. Her smile broadened now, spreading out into a far too toothy grin of obvious glee that she turned on Gilda. “Bullshit—!” Twilight held up a hoof. “Ambassador Gilda,” the unicorn warned. The griffon snapped her beak shut, her glare bouncing between the dragon and the pony, appearing to try and decide who she wanted to yell at more. Fortunately, she refrained from yelling at all and contented herself with fierce looks and bristled feathers as she waited for the pony representative to say her piece. “Ambassador Ember, I’m sure you can understand how…” Twilight groped around for a more diplomatic way to phrase her question than what initially came to mind, eventually settling on, “implausible some creatures might find it that a griffon settlement invited an army of dragons to their island. While I wouldn’t want it to seem as though I’m calling you a ‘liar’, I don’t suppose you have some documentation supporting your claim?” Ember tore her gaze from the griffon and looked at the purple pony now. Her expression showed fewer teeth, but also more annoyance. “‘Their’ island,” she echoed with a scoff. “Ragnar is less than ten leagues from the primary island of the Dragon Lands archipelago. It’s five hundred from the continent that the griffons live on.” The dragon’s garnet eyes flickered to the Republic ambassador. “I forget, ambassador; how long has Ragnar been ‘your’ island exactly?” She didn’t wait for an actual answer, deciding that she had made her point. Twilight made a mental note to review historical maps of that region of the world so she knew when it might be more politique to use specific phrasing when it came to the touchier issues of who-owned-what-land-now. “But this isn’t about land,” the dragon ambassador lied, waving her claws dismissively before reaching beneath the table and picking out a sealed scroll. She tossed it to Twilight. “This is a formal invitation, issued by the governor of Ragnar Island, to Dragon Lord Torch, asking for our assistance.” “Like we’d ever need help from fricking handbags—” The unicorn cut Gilda off with another pointed look and a raised hoof before rephrasing the griffon’s doubts. “Does the governor explain why he chose to ask you for help and not his own government?” Twilight asked evenly even as her magic broke the wax seal and unfurled the scroll that she’d been given. At a glance, it did indeed look like a formal request for intervention. All of the seals at the bottom looked genuine too; though Twilight acknowledged that she wasn’t exactly trained to be able to spot forged Griffonian Republic government seals on sight. She didn’t even know if the ‘Gallus’ named at the bottom was actually the island’s governor. Twilight passed the scroll over to Gilda to look over, deciding that the griffon would be a better authority on its authenticity. The griffon snatched the parchment from Twilight's magic and started to look it over while Ember answered the unicorn’s question. “They were unsatisfied with the output of their gem mines,” Ember answered easily. “The island’s governor realized that, while he could have asked the Republic for help implementing more efficient mining methods, well, what with the distance and all, it was a whole lot easier for them to ask us instead.” The dragoness’ expression hardened now as she turned from Twilight to fix her gaze on the griffon ambassador, who appeared to be growing ever more progressively furious the more she read the scroll in her talons. “We do have a lot of experience running Griffonian gem mines, after all.” There was no missing the acid that coated those words. Ember snorted out a small puff of smoke before reapplying the smug smile to her snout. She relaxed her talons from where they’d ended up carving a deep furrow into the surface of the table and glanced back at Twilight. “So we sent advisors to supervise their mining efforts.” “You sent so many advisors over that it looked like the island was being invaded?” Twilight asked skeptically. “Well, we also saw that the island wasn’t particularly well-defended. You know, from pirates and stuff.” Ember said without missing a beat. “The griffons stripped away a lot of their garrisons and naval patrols in recent months. Something about a ‘special operation’ involving the kirin?” The dragon turned her head towards the relevant table in the gallery. Twilight noted that the pair of kirin delegates wore sour expressions as one of them nodded in confirmation of Ember's allegation on that matter. The other kirin at the table was lightly smoldering as she glared at Gilda. “Anti-piracy operations,” the griffon ambassador quipped reflexively while reading over the scroll. She did not look up to acknowledge the kirin's glare. Her beak did quiver briefly as she picked up the acrid scent of burning that was starting to fill the air. “The patrols and garrisons weren’t going to be away for long.” “Of course,” Ember rolled her eyes and continued to answer Twilight’s question. “Anyway, we needed to make sure our advisors, the miners, and the shipments of gemstones were well-protected. So we sent along some of our soldiers to make sure everycreature was safe. That’s all. She looked in the direction of the griffon ambassador once more. “What was the language that your government used back in the day, Gilda? Your armies weren’t ‘occupying’ us, they were just ‘keeping us safe’? ‘Supervising our development’? “‘Civilizing’ us?” Those last two words were audibly bathed in unabashed vitriol; enough to finally draw a look from Gilda, who appeared to have finished reading over the scroll. “This was coerced,” she stated, tossing away the scroll. “And your proof of that is…?” Ember challenged, not appearing to be all that concerned with the griffon’s opinion on the matter. “Is the seal genuine, ambassador?” Gilda was forced to—eventually—issue a very reluctant nod. “And the signature? You recognize it?” Another reluctant nod, this time accompanied by repeated flexing of the griffon’s talons in obvious barely-contained fury. “Is it genuine, ambassador?” “What did you threaten to do to him?” Gilda demanded. Sensing that the conversation could only go downhill from here, Twilight chose to interject herself back into it and retake control. “And all of the griffons that you’re…advising?” The unicorn had long since caught on to the reality, but maintained the fiction Ember was using for the sake of keeping the conversation flowing amicably. “They are there by choice? They are free to leave if they don’t want to be ‘advised’ by you?” Ember didn’t acknowledge the question immediately, seeming to take delight in her griffon counterpart’s growing ire. After several long seconds though, the dragon finally sat back in her seat and shrugged. “Of course they can. In fact, every griffon who wanted to leave the island already did before we even got there. The rest are quite happy to learn everything we have to teach them about working in a mine.” “And how long do you expect the ‘advising’ to last?” Twilight asked, the political lie tasting bitter on her tongue. “Who can say? As you can see, some griffons take longer to learn their lessons than others,” Ember said with a flick of her claws in Gilda’s direction. “But, I promise we’ll leave when the island’s governor asks us to,” she assured the Council, her toothy smile once more back in place on her muzzle. “He’s a pretty busy griffon though, learning about how to mine gems and all. “Who can say when he’ll ever find the time to draft a formal request for us to depart? He’s very engrossed in the…instruction we’re providing—” “You fucking BITCH—!” Twilight’s magic lanced forth just in time to keep the griffon from fully vaulting over the table, holding the ambassador at bay with a glowing purple aura. Captain Applejack and one of her guards charged into the room at about the same time, having correctly deduced that the talks had deteriorated. They drew up short at a raised hoof from their commander even as the unicorn kept most of her focus on keeping Gilda from tackling the all-to-smug dragon across from her. “Ambassador Gilda!” “Let me go, you fucking hornhead!” the griffon snarled. Twilight grit her teeth and threw her head to the side, her magic following with the movement and hurling the struggling ambassador back into her seat, where she landed with a squawk that was more frustration than pain. “Ambassador Gilda,” the unicorn mare repeated at a much raised volume, finally grasping the griffon’s full attention. “You will compose yourself while this situation is resolved, or—” Gilda opened her beak to issue a rebuke, but found herself silenced when a tendril of telekinetic magic lashed itself around her beak and sealed it shut, much to the feathered feline’s obvious consternation. “OR,” Twilight repeated through clenched teeth, “you can calm down under the supervision of Captain Applejack outside for the rest of these proceedings.” She and the griffon kept their eyes locked on one another for several long seconds, the latter’s chest heaving with furious breaths. In much calmer tones, Twilight added, “Trust me when I say: this will go better with you here. Provided you can keep your temper under control. “Can you do that, Ambassador?” The purple pony—tentatively—released her magical grip on the griffon’s beak. Her features remained etched with fury, and her lips never reduced themselves from a sneer, but the griffon at least spoke with a more civil-sounding tone. “...Fine,” she didn’t—quite—spit. Twilight let out a breath and nodded, fully releasing the griffon from her magical hold. “Heh, and they wanted to ‘civilize’ us—” Ember began her verbal goading once more. However, Twilight was rather done with the dragon ambassador’s attitude by this point as well. “I’m something of a polymath.” The nonsequitur briefly stunned the dragoness into silence as she looked over at the unicorn in confusion. “...What?” “Polymath,” Twilight repeated in a conversational tone as she took her attention from the griffon and regarded Ember. “It means: one who has wide-ranging knowledge, often among many differing fields of study. You see: I like to learn. About anything really. Physics, biology, chemistry, magic, I’m interested in it all. “Before the war broke out back home, I was working on my fourth degree,” she went on. “While the fighting shifted my priorities and mostly derailed my formal academic pursuits, my love for learning has always remained.” “...Good for you?” Ember ventured, clearly not sure what to make of the unicorn’s rambling. She looked to the nearby zebra and alicorn for insight, but both of the other ambassadors remained as silent now as they had been throughout the rest of the afternoon’s proceedings. Twilight nodded. “Thank you. Anyway, I bring this up because it occurs to me that, while gemstones are used in a lot of magical applications, I’ve never before really looked into what went into procuring them,” she explained. “Gems were always just something that I picked up at the local store. Their detection, extraction, refinement…I’d never considered those aspects very closely before. “But now I am, and I find myself fascinated,” Twilight had a smile on her own muzzle now as she leaned forward, peering eagerly at Ambassador Ember. “Do you think you could arrange a guided tour of the mines on Ragnar Island for me?” “What?” “Since you dragons are such experts—to the point where you’re teaching the griffons and all—I just know I’ll receive the best education on gem mining there. Right?” Ember cleared her throat and shifted uncomfortably in her seat. “That’s not anything that I’d be able to arrange,” she quickly said by way of dismissal, and hurriedly added, “or any dragon in my government. It’s not our island—just ask Gilda,” the ambassador pointed out. “But I can pass on your request to the governor. I’m sure he’ll get around to looking it over eventually—” “Oh, there’s no need to bother him if he’s busy,” Twilight assured the dragoness before turning to address the nearby griffon representative. “Ambassador Gilda, I’m sure that you could grant me a writ of passage to any province controlled by the Griffonian Republic, right? Even Ragnar Island?” Much like Ember initially had, Gilda issued several confused blinks as she tried to figure out why the unicorn was so interested in a study trip rather than addressing the important issue at hand. Then Twilight saw realization dawn across the feathered face. The griffon visibly relaxed now, and even allowed the corners of her beak to turn up into a smile that she turned towards the dragoness. “Yeah, I could do that,” she informed the unicorn. “I can have that on your desk by tonight if you’d like, Twilight Spackle.” “Sparkle.” “Whatever. Just tell me when you want to go.” Gilda’s smile became slightly broader as she spied the dragon’s mounting unease. “I noticed that there was one of your sail-rigged paddle boats in the harbor,” the purple mare said, pointedly ignoring the ever growing concern on Ember’s features. “I bet it could get me there in just a few days—” “You know what?” Ember finally spoke up. “I just remembered that a few more griffons did mention wanting to visit family on the mainland. They’re just waiting on a ride.” “I see,” said Twilight. “Well, it just so happens that I know a mare who has a boat that I think is still docked in Harmony.” At least, Twilight was reasonably sure that Keelhaul hadn’t left yet. Even if she had, she suspected that Captain Rainbow Dash would be able to catch and redirect the Lickity before it made it too far. She was apparently fast enough. “I assume that I can send her along to pick up those griffons?” Ember grimaced, but eventually nodded, “I can let our security forces know to expect you.” “Good,” Twilight said with a nod. “And I’m sure the ship will arrive to find happy and healthy griffons. “Won’t they?” “Of course,” the dragoness tried not to say with a frown. She was marginally successful. Gilda leaned forward, her eyes darting between the dragon and the unicorn. “...And if it turns out that they all want to leave?” she posed. “That means that you dragons won’t have anygriff to ‘teach’ anymore, right? So I guess you might as well go back home—” “And leave those mines abandoned for who knows how long?” Ember feigned sounding aghast, recording some of her earlier haughty composure now that she was verbally sparring with a more familiar opponent. “Don’t you know how unsafe that would make those mines when everygriff gets back? Those mines have to be looked after and cared for. They need regular upkeep. "For safety reasons.” The dragon smiled now. “Which us dragons will be happy to provide for as long as your griffons are away. “In exchange for fair compensation, of course.” Gilda’s eyes narrowed. “...'Compensation'?!” The griffon bristled with renewed frustration. “You actually expect us to pay you to occupy our island—?” “I don’t think we’ll need direct payment, no,” Ember conceded, almost sounding conciliatory, “I’m sure we can satisfy ourselves with whatever we happen to pull out of those mines while we’re looking after them.” The toothy smile was back again. "We can bring in plenty of dragons to keep the mines looked after. "Do you mind if we quarter ourselves in the houses of the island's residents? You know, since your griffons won’t be using them and all after they leave to...” Ember spared a moment to refresh herself on the lie she'd used earlier, "...visit their families." The corners of Gilda’s beak pulled back in a sneer. “We’ll be back.” “We’ll be waiting.” “So we are all in agreement,” Twilight affirmed. It was not a question, and neither ambassador treated it as such. “And I suppose I can wait for that mine tour, Ambassador Ember. I did just arrive on Harmony, after all. I should wait a while before putting in for leave. “On to the next item of business,” the unicorn announced, once more looking down at the docket. “The illustrious representative of Minos has the floor…” Colonel Twilight Sparkle slumped back in her seat at the table after the last of the delegates left, exceedingly grateful that the meeting was finally over with. As much as the unicorn had been looking forward to an ‘easy’ inaugural session, that sentiment had begun to wear thin around hour three of the tariff negotiation. While she would never admit it aloud—under pain of death—the threat of global war at the beginning of the session had arguably been the ‘best’ part of the whole day. Insofar as the unicorn hadn’t been forced to employ a spell to periodically deliver a shock to the frog of her hind hoof in order to keep herself awake during that part. I never, in a thousand years, would have thought I’d miss those Battle Update Briefings, but here we are… Movement by the door caused Twilight to wince. The audible groan was just barely withheld. Her telekinesis reflexively reached for her notebook and a pencil as the unicorn prepared to schedule another meeting with a representative who wanted ‘just a moment’ of the unicorn’s time. Thus far, each of the last dozen creatures had asked for ‘moments’ in four hour blocks. The mare found herself idly wondering if there hadn’t perhaps been some egregious error made in the dictionaries available on Harmony that had seen the definition of ‘moment’ grossly mischaracterized… When Twilight turned to see that it was her executive officer approaching, the purple unicorn visibly relaxed. Then she tensed up again a second later, though not nearly as much, as she considered that it was entirely possible the other mare was bringing her unpleasant news. “Hello, major. Please tell me that I don’t have any other meetings today.” Twilight opened her notebook and leafed through the pages with her magic to see if she could spot something that she might have overlooked earlier. Rarity had the good humor to smile and started to shake her head…then stopped. The ivory mare considered. “Well…I suppose that depends on what you count as being a ‘meeting’...?” Twilight groaned and started to lightly tap her forehead against the surface of the table. “Ambassador Zecora told me to extend a dinner invitation to you,” the mare hastily added upon seeing her commander’s less-than-thrilled reaction. “If you’re interested, ma’am. “She was careful to make it clear that it is a strictly informal invitation; and that if you’re too worn out from the day’s—” The other unicorn’s assurances were interrupted by the audible rumble of Twilight’s stomach. The reaction had been entirely involuntary, and had been triggered by the mention of the possibility of a meal in the purple pony’s immediate future. Where balanced meals were concerned, this day had not been a kind one for the colonel. A day-old—though still pleasantly moist—muffin for breakfast and a pair of cupcakes for a ‘working lunch’ before the Council meeting felt as though they had only barely staved off outright starvation. It had been well in excess of twenty-four hours since the unicorn had eaten anything approaching a ‘proper meal’, and the effects on her mental fortitude were starting to show. “...So, that’s a soft ‘yes’ on the dinner invite?” Rarity deduced, her muzzle betraying hints of a smile at the corner of her lips. Twilight flushed slightly, mentally rebuking her stomach’s impropriety before nodding at her XO. “Let the ambassador know that I’ll be there. When did she say it was?” “She said that if you wanted to attend, she would appreciate you being there in about a half an hour or so.” That meant that Twilight had thirty minutes to get back to her quarters, take a quick shower, change into something more appropriate for dinner with a high-ranking government official, and then make her way to said official’s quarters, which were sequestered in an adjoining tower. It wasn’t an impossible timetable, but it didn’t leave Twilight with a lot of wiggle room either. The purple unicorn closed her notebook and stuffed it, and everything else still on the table, into her saddlebag before getting up from the table and heading for the exit. “Major, please let the ambassador know I’ll be there in half an hour.” “Yes, ma’am.” Twilight hurried back to her quarters at a brisk trot. The moment the door was closed behind her, her magic went to work flinging away her saddlebag and discarding her uniform—as well as snagging a molasses cookie from the basket to tide her over—as she made her way to the bathroom for a quick shower. She lingered just long enough to let the heated water wash away some of the tension that she’d acquired in her withers during the Council session before hopping back out and drying off. Picking out an outfit took up most of the time she had. Rarity may have described the dinner as being ‘informal’—and Twilight didn’t doubt for a moment that the other unicorn had conveyed the exact wording of the ambassador’s invitation accurately—but the little purple mare was at least experienced enough with politics and government to know that some words didn’t carry their more colloquial definitions over into certain settings. This dinner constituted the senior Equestrian representative on Harmony sitting down to meet privately with the senior Zebrican government representative. This meeting was no more ‘informal’ than a luncheon with a news reporter was ‘off the record’. Maybe Twilight didn’t need to show up wearing her finest dress uniform, but she still needed to look properly presentable. Twilight eventually settled on a yellow sundress with some pale accents along the hem and a conservative pink ribbon on her breast. Nothing too elaborate or fancy, but enough to show that the unicorn was taking the invitation seriously. After a brief minute spent in front of the mirror making sure the dress was laying right, and practicing one of the Zebrican greetings that she knew, Twilight finally turned to depart from her apartment. She delayed her departure just long enough to snag a pecan pie from her—finally noticeably—dwindling pile of sweets, then slipped out the door. Finding Ambassador Zecora’s apartment wasn’t particularly difficult. Several smaller towers abutted the main lighthouse spire on the island, and each played host to several embassies of the various nations of the world which had deigned to establish one on Harmony. The zebras utilized three floors of the north-facing tower, and it was clearly evident which floors those were, as they were the ones which were guarded by zebra soldiers dressed in their moss green and black wool coats. Twilight couldn’t help but eye their rifles as the guards, who had presumably been advised of the unicorn’s arrival, gave her directions to the ambassador’s apartment. She’d too often seen those polished steel barrels pointed in her direction not to still be wary of them, even after all of this time. Ambassador Zecora’s quarters were on the uppermost of the three floors that the zebras occupied, with the first floor being much more modest quarters for the mission’s staff—to include billeting for their soldiers—and the middle floor being utilized as office space to run the consulate’s business on Harmony. The quarters were also substantially nicer than what Twilight had been allotted, the mare noticed when her knock was answered. “Salamu, Mh—ELL-oh!” Twilight’s attempt at an initial greeting died amidst her shock when she realized that it had not been the ambassador herself who had opened the door, but a zebra stallion she didn’t recognize. Given that the unicorn was staring at the buttoned maroon vest over his sternum, and found herself having to crane her neck upwards considerably before she finally found a jaw—framed by a deep black beard—the colonel determined that he was a rather large stallion at that. He was also not quite glaring at her. “O-oh. I-I’m sorry,” Twilight stammered, taking a step back from the door. “I guess I was given the wrong directions? I’m looking for Ambassador Zecora?” “Let her in, Grevy,” a familiar mare’s voice said from somewhere beyond the striped stallion’s broad form. He briefly glanced back over his shoulder, as though seeking some additional confirmation, before bowing his head in Twilight’s direction and stepping aside. “Hm.” Zecora now came into view. Twilight reformed the warm smile she’d intended to greet the ambassador with…and found herself having to struggle a little to retain it in place when she noticed that the striped mare was only wearing her jewelry. The stallion was more formally dressed than the ambassador was, because he was at least wearing a vest! Twilight found herself reconsidering how Equestrian and Zebrican official’s differed in their definitions of the word ‘informal’. The unicorn preferred the zebra’s. “Good evening, Colonel Sparkle. Thank you for accepting my invitation; please come in.” “Salamu, Mheshimiwa Balozi,” Twilight tried once more. At least she managed not to stumble over the unfamiliar words. Zecora’s smile grew a little wider and she inclined her head slightly. “And a fine…enchanté? To you too, colonel.” Twilight paused mid-step as she was about to enter, tilting her head to the side as she puzzled over the zebra mare’s use of Prench. Then she smiled too. “Right. You’ve spent a lot of time with Major Rarity since arriving on the island.” She’d known a few ponies back in Equestria who spoke in the same ‘High Canterlot’ accent as the ivory unicorn mare, along with their propensity to throw Prench words into conversation at seemingly random times. The zebra cocked a brow, prompting Twilight to clear her hoof and dismiss the striped mare’s concerns with a hoof. “Nevermind. Thank you for inviting me to dinner. I brought a pie!” The unicorn presented the baked dessert—which was presently steaming thanks to the judicious application of a basic heating spell—to her host. Zecora’s smile grew a little at the sight of the pie and she gave a soft chuckle before pointing a hoof in the direction of the suite’s kitchenette. “Much appreciated, colonel. You may place it over on the counter. Then please join me in the parlor for a pre-meal beverage.” Twilight nodded and stepped gingerly in the direction of the indicated counter. The large zebra stallion, Grevy, was in the kitchenette putting some of the final touches on the evening’s meal. He nodded politely at the smaller mare but otherwise said nothing. The unicorn set the pecan pie held in her levitation field down on the counter…right next to another pecan pie that was already cooling there. Any inclination towards feeling embarrassed at somehow managing to bring a redundant offering to the dinner vanished when Twilight noticed that the two desserts looked identical to each other…right down to the ‘smiley face’ design the top layer of pecans had been arranged in. “Um…I don’t suppose that you got this pie from a pink earth—” “Green or black, colonel?” Zecora asked from the other room, cutting off the unicorn’s question. “What?” “Your tea preference, colonel,” came the clarification at the same moment that the zebra became visible in the doorway, holding aloft two teabags in her upturned hoof. “Do you prefer green or black? It has been my observation that many ponies prefer black tea; but I would not want to presume that you share your kinfolk’s stereotypical lack of good taste.” Turquoise eyes danced with amusement. Twilight blinked a few times before her own features settled into a smile of her own as she finally recognized the playful barb. “Coffee for me; if you have it.” Her smile preemptively broadened in anticipation of the expected reaction from her host. She was not disappointed. Zecora feigned appalled shock. “Ah! I see that I have inadvertently invited a barbarian into my humble home!” Her gaze then shifted past Twilight. “Grevy? Coffee for our guest.” “Hm.” The larger stallion dipped his head down behind the counter and returned to view a moment later with a glass cylinder held in his teeth. Twilight recognized the device immediately. She cast Zecora a bewildered look. “You own a Prench Press?” “Barbarism is contagious, it turns out. Come, colonel; let us sit and speak.” The parlor felt fairly crowded, at least when Twilight thought back to most of her own past living accommodations. She’d never had an abundance of space in her assigned quarters prior to being assigned to Harmony, and what space she’d been given, she’d tended to leave largely untouched. The unicorn had always known that her assignments would be temporary, and so never saw much point in moving in the bulk of her possessions. Zecora obviously held a different philosophy: if you were going to be living far from home for a while, then bring as much of home with you as you could. Absolutely none of the apartment’s stone walls were visible. Where there wasn’t a hanging tapestry or blanket, there was an ornately carved wooden mask. Where there hadn’t been room to hang a mask, there was a fern or small tree. Where a tree hadn’t been deemed suitable, a statue stood in its place. Twilight stood in the doorway for almost a solid minute taking it all in, wondering for just a moment if she hadn’t stepped through a portal which had taken her all the way to the Zebrican continent. She finally managed to tear her attention away from the décor and return it to her host, who had already made herself comfortable on a low-lying unpadded variety of chaise lounge, and was motioning to another across from her for Twilight to do the same. The unicorn did so, matching the zebra’s posture as best she could to attain some level of comfort on the hard surface. “I am led to understand that you have enjoyed an…exciting introduction to the island, Colonel Sparkle,” Zecora began, flashing a knowing smile her way. “It wasn’t how I expected things to go,” was what the unicorn would admit. ‘Informal’ dinner or not—and new to being a diplomat or not—Twilight was well acquainted with the concept of ‘operational security’ and that, even when dealing with an ally, the best practice was not to reveal anything which could be leveraged against herself or Equestria. If the unicorn sounded like she was unprepared or incapable of doing her job on Harmony to the zebra, that had the potential of coming back to bite her down the road. “But I’m used to adapting to challenging situations.” The ambassador issued an acknowledging nod. “Your reputation certainly precedes you in that regard, colonel. Especially among my kind.” Twilight very carefully did not externally react to the zebra’s words, though she did feel herself tense up. She hoped it wasn’t noticeable. Zecora held up a hoof. Her next words suggested to the unicorn that at least some of her apprehension had bled through her attempt to screen it. “Be at ease, colonel; I did not invite you here to discuss the past. I merely wished to point out that you have a reputation for being a pony who is capable of solving challenging problems.” “That’s probably the nicest way I’ve ever heard a zebra phrase it.” Twilight almost immediately winced at how the dry comment had sounded when it escaped her lips. Her host smiled and nodded in response. “Time heals; but it leaves scars. Those too may fade eventually, but it can take longer for some than others. “But I am offering my words as praise: Harmony Fortress’ purpose is an ambitious one—unprecedented in recorded history. No doubt the individual who helms it will encounter many harrowing challenges during her time here. You have previously demonstrated that you are capable of achieving success where all others only fail. “To that end, I believe that Harmony has been placed in good hooves. A belief that I saw vindicated this afternoon in the Council Chamber.” Twilight only barely managed to avert outright scowling at the striped mare this time, managing to divert her expression into just a frown. “The meeting started off a little more…spirited than I might have hoped,” the unicorn conceded. “Everything managed to work out probably as well as could have been expected, given the situation.” The unicorn wasn’t sure how much she could get away with saying directly without risking offending the ambassador, so she chose to end her comments there. “Very likely,” Zecora agreed. “The dragons would have been unlikely to leave Ragnar Island and return it to the griffons. Without finding a way to get them to release their griffon hostages, the Republic would have been left with little option but to send a military response to the island, possibly in the company of one or more of their allies. “The situation could quite easily have eventually spiraled into a rather widespread war. “Your intervention was timely, firm, effective, and—most importantly: peaceful.” “So glad that you approve, ambassador,” the little purple mare said through her now much more strained features. The zebra’s words sounded genuine enough to be interpreted as honest praise; and likely could have been taken as such at face value for anypony who didn’t have any other further context to go on. However, Twilight had been in the Council Chamber, and so she did have additional context. Specifically: she remembered that she’d asked the striped mare for help, and she had declined to get involved in the situation at all; leaving Twilight to stumble about and hope to find a solution on her own. With all of that in mind, it was very hard for the unicorn not to find Zecora’s praise a little patronizing. Which meant it was also hard to hold back the barbs that were trying to force their way past her tongue. “I just felt like somecreature needed to do something about it. “Maybe it’s the officer in me, but I’m not afraid to step up when nocreature else will.” Zecora appeared entirely unfazed by the poorly-veiled jab. Twilight knew—intellectually—that she should have been grateful that the zebra hadn’t taken offense and appeared willing to let the matter go. However, the ambassador’s lack of acknowledgement of how she’d rebuffed the unicorn’s request for assistance only made the pony more irritated. “Actions speak louder than words.” Twilight blinked in shock at the zebra’s apparent non sequitur. “I have come to understand that this sentiment is not one that is exclusively held by zebras,” Zecora continued. “Our previous experiences with Equestrian ‘actions’ have left my government wanting in the past.” The striped mare’s expression was not a warm one this time, though the coolness which invaded her turquoise eyes lingered only briefly before they became placid once more. “Equestria has made many bold claims regarding Harmony Fortress and its purpose—or, rather: the purpose that they officially allege.” She shared a knowing look with the purple unicorn. Twilight frowned now. “What do you mean? Harmony Fortress is—” “A fortress,” Zecora cut in with the firm tone of one who was making a point that they had not finished, and were not looking for comment until they were finished. The unicorn mare closed her mouth, but resolved to make the appropriate corrections on the ambassador’s interpretations once she was done. “Actions may be louder, but words still possess a volume all their own which creatures can hear,” Zecora continued. “And government’s are not known to be careless with their words—not when those words can shape the course of their nation on the world stage. “Statements on foreign policy, their ambitions, the names bestowed on their architectural achievements…” A knowing look was shared with the purple mare before she quickly moved on to her point. “Other nations take note of a government’s words and actions…and they form opinions accordingly. “Equestria leaped into view on the global stage through a brutal war—one of the largest seen in centuries. Then, after that war’s conclusion, they managed to emerge as one of the formally recognized major powers in the world. Achieving a status in less than a decade that most races have not managed to in centuries.” The small purple unicorn barely suppressed a grimace at the ambassador’s words. The way that the striped mare had phrased things made it sound quite implausible, to be fair. There was more nuance to it though. True, one would have logically expected that a nation and race who had been pushed to the brink of extinction would have a difficult time bouncing back at all to any meaningful degree—ever. Going on to be held in as high regard as the griffons? And even the powerful race which had come so very close to destroying them? To put it bluntly: the notion was absurd. However, the war had had a few unintended consequences for ponies. One of those consequences was to turn their race into something of a diaspora in the later years of the war. As it became more and more evident that Equestria was destined to lose, and as town after town was being raised to the ground, ponies—those who could, anyway—fled. They flung themselves to the far corners of the globe in an effort to escape the Zebrican threat, forming enclaves within nearly every other nation in the world who would take in refugees. Then…the war ended. The zebras conceded the war and returned back to their homeland. When news reached those far-flung pony communities, most of them returned back to their homeland and, with them, broad the political and economic inroads that were essential to establishing trade networks. Equestria, in that time of rebuilding, needed to import a lot of material and resources. It turned out that they also had much to offer in return that they had not expected: their magic. Unicorn spellcraft, pegasus weather control, earth pony agrarianism—ponies had long been ignorant of how scarce the magic that they took for granted was in the wider world… …And how valuable it was. Equestria bartered their highly-valuable magic for material and, in doing so, inadvertently became a trading powerhouse whose economic dominance had global reach. Equestria-owned ships—while technologically inferior to the others in their immediate peer group—were incredibly numerous and able to outperform other vessels in their class, thanks to the pegasi among their crews ensuring the ships always had favorable winds. “What did Equestria do shortly after achieving their status?” Zecora went on. “They built a military fortress the size of the city thousands of miles from their homeland. “A nation with a reputation for starting wars…building a waystation that would be capable of supporting future wars?” The striped mare raised a questioning brow at Twilight, though she did not wait for the unicorn to respond. “It made many of the other races understandably nervous. “The Griffonian Republic made their introduction to the world in much the same way: setting out from their homeland and establishing ‘trading posts’ on the shores of other lands…right before ‘civilizing’ those lands.” The ambassador’s expression was appropriately sardonic to suit the audibly poor opinion she had of the griffon practice. “Many in that room today believe that ponies seek to achieve the same sort of domination.” Now Zecora smiled at the other mare. “But, perhaps after seeing how Equestria’s representative sought to peacefully resolve a matter with a mere exchange of words…? “We can hope that their expectations are appropriately tempered.” Twilight gaped for several long seconds in stunned silence at the ambassador. Her aid entered the room, deposited two saucers of steaming coffee and left without a word or twitch from the unicorn. Her attention was so focused on her host that the unicorn spent a second wondering if their drinks had been teleported to them. “...You were testing me?” “I was giving the other representatives an opportunity to see your character on display,” Zecora corrected gently. She took up her saucer in her hooves and took a sip, letting out a contented sigh. Twilight frowned, her own drink remaining untouched so far. “That was a pretty big risk you took,” she pointed out. “What if I’d stayed out of Gilda and Ember’s fight? You couldn’t have known I’d want to stop it—or that I could. “You told me that you know of ‘my reputation’; I know perfectly well the ‘reputation’ I have with the zebras. For all you knew, I’d have jumped at the chance to get Equestria into another war!” Twilight snapped. “On the contrary: I knew specifically that you would not.” “How?! You don’t even know me!” “I said that we had never been formally introduced,” Zecora offered another gentle correction before taking another sip of her coffee, “and we have not; but I do know you, Colonel Twilight Sparkle—your heart.” Once more, Twilight was stunned into confused silence as she tried to make sense of the zebra mare’s contradictory words. Zecora smiled. “There were many in that room who have made the assumption that the Equestrian military officer sitting upon a council of peace and diplomacy will achieve nothing worthwhile here, because she is—what is the pony expression? Ah! Yes: that you are ‘out of your element’.” The ambassador then chuckled to herself, finding her words far funnier than Twilight thought she should have, before she took another sip of her coffee and grinned at the unicorn now. “But I know better. “Please, Colonel Sparkle, try the coffee. It is a blend that will pair well with dinner, I assure you…” Author's Note As you can see, while I wasn't willing to write rhyming dialogue for Zecora for the whole story, I'm still perfectly willing to have her speak in riddles! As always, a thumbs up and comment are always greatly appreciated If you like the cover art and want to see more stories get them, I've set up a Cover Art Fund if you're interested and have any bits lying around!
Chapter 4: Ship of Tears“The ship’s name?” “Dominance.” “Hull?” “Iklwa-class cruiser. Laid down in twelve-thirty-four at the Saltsbury Shipyards. She has a top flank speed of twenty-five knots and her armament consists of eight six-inch guns, three mounted on each side and one each fore and aft. Plus four three-pounder guns in her secondary battery.” “That is…correct.” Major Rarity announced after looking up from the notes that she was consulting in order to verify Twilight’s answers and flashed her superior a wry smile. “Am I supposed to be awarding you extra credit for going beyond the scope of the questions I’m asking you?” The slightly smaller purple unicorn flushed. “...This isn’t for a grade,” Twilight Sparkle insisted huffy…and with only a tiny hint of disappointment. “I just want to be sure that I know who I’m dealing with. As Harmony Fortress’ commander, I should know something about the ships that visit the ports. Next question.” “Mm-hmm. Very well, let’s see…” The alabaster-hued executive officer skimmed over the file that had been provided to them by the Zebrican Embassy, as required by fortress regulations. While most cargo ships were free to come and go without giving advanced notification—although that was still considered to be ‘best practice’, if only to ensure that sufficient dock-hooves were available to tend to the ship’s cargo loading and unloading needs—it was a wholly different matter where bona fide warships were concerned. The other nations of the world were free to send naval vessels to Harmony, whether to resupply them with fuel and provisions, or simply shore leave for their crews, they just simply had to tell somepony first that a ship bristling with guns was going to be appearing over the horizon. “The name of her captain?” Rarity finally posed. “Kapteni Trafalgar. He assumed command two years ago. Prior to this assignment, he was the executive officer about the cruiser Shark. Prior to that, he was the chief gunnery officer on the battleship Volcano…” The next was added under Twilight’s breath, almost as an afterthought. “...including while she was in Manehattan Harbor.” Twilight had been there too. She remembered how the battleship’s guns had sounded—like thunder bursts in the night. How the flashes had illuminated what remained of the city. The feel of the impacts of those one-ton shells as they hit— Major Rarity was not sure how—or even if—she was supposed to offer comment on her senior officer’s last statement, and so she elected not to. The pair walked in silence on their way to the fortress’ main port for a while under the greatly sobered mood until Twilight finally took a breath and shook her melancholy off. A lot of zebras had taken part in the invasion of Equestria. A lot of those zebras were still serving in the Zebrican military. Ten years wasn’t really all that long. After all: Twilight was still serving too. She was bound to meet zebras that she’d encountered before during the war. She was sure that she would continue to do so in the future. The past is past; so let it pass… “Next question.” The pair of unicorns continued to engage in their exchange until they finally came within sight of the pier that they were heading to. Twilight’s eyes immediately darted to the massive gray hull which had anchored itself beyond the fortress’ harbor. Dominance was far too large to properly dock along one of Harmony’s piers, which had been—perhaps mistakenly, given Harmony’s purpose—primarily around accommodating pony-designed hulls. As it stood, the zebra cruiser was the next best thing to three times the length of the average Equestrian cargo galleon. Even if Dominance hadn’t been though, it would have been a ‘waste’ of dock space to take one up with a ship that wasn’t either bringing in or departing with cargo. Crew and supplies would instead be ferried to and from the warship on smaller cutters and pinnaces which could easily dock within the fortress. A zebra-built tender was already moored alongside the cruiser to restock the warship’s coal bunkers. Twilight returned her focus now to the docks, and the specific pier that represented their destination. She could already see several zebras standing around at the far end. The unicorn recognized two of them. Or, rather, she recognized the massive stripped stallion that she’d met during her dinner with Zecora last week and was logically deducing that the mare he was closely shadowing was the Zebrican ambassador. She didn’t know any of the other three zebras though, she was pretty sure. The striped ambassador was the first to notice the approach of the pony delegation. She broke off her conversation to turn towards Twilight and Rarity, waving a bangled hoof in greeting. “Ah! Colonel, thank you for honoring my request.” “Of course, Ambassador. Anything to help build the bonds of friendship between our races.” Twilight’s words weren’t—quite—strained, but there was no denying that the small purple unicorn didn’t feel just a little wary of the zebra. Learning that she’d been subjected to something of a diplomatic ‘trial by fire’ had not done a lot to ingratiate the ambassador into Twilight’s good graces. In her opinion, there were other ways to have demonstrated to the rest of the delegates that the unicorn officer truly believed in Harmony Fortress’ mission of peace. She had chosen not to press the matter though. Their dinner last week had at least gone amicably enough once they started actually eating. Since that first meeting, at least, the Zebrican Ambassador had been considerably more willing to offer her experience to Twilight in mitigating other disputes that had arisen during future meetings. The two of them actually seemed to be on the path of developing a productive working relationship. Which was why Twilight had been amenable to being part of the welcome party for the crew of the Dominance. As the unicorn understood things: the residents of Harmony were likely to see a lot of the Zebrican ship for the next several months, as the cruiser was tasked with performing anti-piracy patrols in the vicinity of the Moonfall Archipelago. Zecora inclined her head in an acknowledging bow before turning to introduce the three new zebras standing with her on the pier. She first indicated an older stallion whose stripes looked to be just starting to fade. The deep blue coat, whose shade was not so very far removed from Twilight’s own, marked the stallion as being a member of their navy, and the trio of four-pointed golden stars on his left collar identified his rank as: captain—‘kapteni’ in the zebra’s language. Translated across branches and nations, the older stallion’s military rank was approximately on par with Twilight’s own. “Colonel? May I introduce: Kapteni Trafalgar, commanding officer of the Dominance,” Zecora began. “Kapteni? Colonel Twilight Sparkle, commander of Harmony Fortress.” The eyes of the other two new zebras widened. Trafalgar’s acquired a slightly amused glint even as they narrowed slightly. The corner of his lip curled upward into something that could—if one was inclined to be very generous—be called a ‘smile’. He raised a leg and extended it towards the purple unicorn in initiation of a polite hoof-bump. “It is a privilege to finally meet the illustrious ‘Stripe-Bane’ face-to-face.” Twilight, who had been in the middle of extending her own hoof to meet the stallion’s, hesitated. All of the equines on their part of the pier seemed to freeze in place for several long seconds, if for different reasons. The other two newly-arrived zebras continued their semi-awed stare at the purple pony. Zecora’s expression was close to a glare as she looked ready to rebuke the ship’s captain for being so direct with his crass statement. Rarity looked confused, appearing to wonder if she were missing some context that would let her in on what she suspected was some odd variety of zebra joke. The purple unicorn finally reached across the remaining divide and met the taller stallion’s hoof with her own. “I had a nephew in White Tail,” Trafalgar stated in something that could have passed for a conversational tone in most other contexts. His eyes were fixed on Twilight’s. She met his gaze with matched intensity, though her tone was slightly less unassuming. “I had an uncle in Manehattan.” The silence which followed was deafening. It finally broke when Zecora quite loudly cleared her throat, her turquoise eyes still boring into the naval commander. He didn’t seem to notice, his attention was still fixed on Twilight. Kapteni Trafalgar chuckled and dropped his hoof away from the unicorn’s. “I look forward to exchanging stories of the war with you, Kanali Sparkle.” He took a step back and then diverted Twilight’s attention to a mare about Twilight’s age standing just behind him. She was wearing a uniform similar to his own, but with only two stars pinned to her collar. “My second: Kammandi Gagasi.” The mare said nothing, offering only a courteous nod. Her eyes had at least returned to their original size since hearing Twilight’s name spoken aloud. Next the older stallion indicated a younger zebra dressed in the brilliant crimson coat denoting a member of their marine corps. A silver spear was pinned to his jacket collar. “Luteni Khanisa, the head of my ship’s marine detachment.” The zebra—who looked more like a colt to Twilight—bowed his head slightly towards the unicorn. “Your reputation is known,” the young marine officer said in heavily accented Equestrian with a note of reverence as he inclined his head in greeting. “I am honored to meet so great a warrior as you.” Twilight stiffly returned the bow with a slight incline of her own head. The unicorn hadn’t been particularly receptive to the praise for her ‘heroics’ when it had been her own government heaping it upon her. Being commended by former adversaries for killing so many of their comrades was considerably more disconcerting. “Welcome, all of you, to Harmony Fortress.” Twilight decided that the best thing she could do was to simply begin the speech that she’d prepared to greet their new arrivals. “We’re grateful for your and your crew’s efforts to keep the waters around the island safe. This is my executive officer, Major Rarity—” “Charmed.” “—She’ll be your point of contact here on Harmony if you have any concerns.” Twilight’s horn began to glow, wrapping a binder that she had prepared earlier in an amethyst aura. She floated it towards the ship’s second-in-command, whom she was sure the responsibility for reviewing the contents would fall to anyway. “This contains a list of all the establishments that your crew might enjoy while on the island, as well as marking areas of the fort which we recommend that you tell your crew are off-limits.” Kammandi Gagasi took the binder in her hooves a heartbeat before the telekinetic field dissolved and began to leaf through it. She glanced up at Twilight with a raised eyebrow. “Oh...I see it’s color-coded.” A smile touched the unicorn’s cheeks as she interpreted the observation as a compliment. “I also took the liberty of listing the restaurants in order of customer satisfaction reviews—highest to lowest—then, from there, they’re organized by cuisine, price, and name in alphabetical order. There are also maps with suggested routes to each one from the pier, with options for the shortest route, least crowded route, and routes with the fewest turns.” The cruiser’s executive officer had been sifting through the packet while Twilight described it. The marine officer at her side craned his neck to see the contents for himself. He cocked his head, his gaze shifting to Twilight. “You used the symbols for land maneuvers? The zebra symbols?” Twilight cleared her throat. “I wanted them to be easy to understand, and I knew that you were all military so…” “This is very thorough,” Gagasi finally said, closing the binder and tucking it into a satchel at her side. “It must have taken you some time to put this together. We appreciate the effort.” Khanisa straightened back up and nodded. “So much time…” Rarity sighed under her breath. “Why are our movements restricted, Kanali Sparkle?” Trafalgar broke in, gaining the attention of the others as well. “Are we not allies? Does Equestria not trust their Zebrican brethren?” The non-smile was back on his lips as he looked down at the smaller purple unicorn. “...Or is it simply Stripe-Bane who does not trust?” Twilight’s mood instantly soured again as she turned to meet the older stallion’s challenge. She didn’t take his bait though. “As I said: we recommend that you keep your crew away from certain areas. It’s not about ‘trust’; it’s about their safety. Areas of the fort that are undergoing maintenance and repair, the armories, the cargo transfer points, places that aren’t going to be of much benefit to somecreature trying to enjoy shore leave, and could actually be dangerous to visit if you don’t know what dangers to even be aware of in the first place. “If you want to wander around the East Tower, Kapteni, be my guest!” Twilight waved her hoof in the direction of one of the towers abutting the fort’s main spire, one which was presently ringed by scaffolding while it underwent renovations to accommodate additional foreign embassy suites as other races expressed interest in establishing Missions on Harmony. “Just don’t come crying to Major Rarity when you’re crushed to death by a falling sack of stones.” There had already been a lethal accident since the renovations had started. Which was actually better than was typical for work of that scope… “The colonel is being perfectly reasonable, Kapteni,” Zecora finally broke in, eyeing the broader stallion critically. There was a slight edge to her tone, and Twilight saw the ears of the ship’s captain pin back upon hearing it. “You would tell any visitor aboard the Dominance not to venture into the magazines and boiler rooms, would you not?” He nodded, clearing his throat and wincing. Twilight thought he almost looked like a foal who’d been reprimanded by their mother. “As a visitor to Colonel Sparkle’s fortress, you should be more respectful. She is the ‘kapteni’ here, Trafalgar,” the ambassador admonished, and not very lightly. The captain actually kneeled towards the ambassador now, bending a foreleg as he did so. “Nsamehe, Holi-Khulu—” “Speak Equestrian!” Zecora snapped suddenly, and with considerably more bite in her tone that Twilight had even thought the striped mare was capable of—let alone had ever heard. Not even when speaking with Ambassador Gilda. The ambassador had actually sounded almost angry…and the purple unicorn was finding it difficult to fathom why. Sure, Trafalgar was being a bit of an ass, but it wasn’t anything that Twilight hadn’t encountered before. In the unicorn’s own experience, a lot of zebra veterans from The Great War—or, as the zebras called it: The Equestrian Campaign—weren’t huge fans of hers. It wasn’t anything new to her, and she expected the treatment to endure for quite some time into the future. “...And use my proper title, kapteni,” Zecora said. Twilight almost missed the brief shift of the ambassador’s eyes in her own direction as she spoke to Trafalgar. The cruiser’s captain swallowed. The other two zebras standing near him had visibly paled in the aftermath of Zecora’s earlier command. They bent their foreleg and knelt now as well. “Your forgiveness…Ambassador.” Twilight privately decided that she needed to do a little more research into the finer workings of the Zebrican government. The naval officer had just uttered Zecora’s title with a much more reverent inflection that Twilight ever would have if she’d been speaking to one of her own government’s political appointees. The unicorn was mostly certain that zebra society didn’t have a noble class or anything similar… Admittedly, it wasn’t like she’d studied a lot of academic sources on Zebrican society prior to the war. In her defense, there hadn’t been any. Not in Equestria, anyway. “Your trip was a long one, and you are doubtlessly tired as a result,” Zecora said by way of excusing the lapse in courtesy on the ship captain’s behalf. “Which is why you are here to partake in shore leave,” she concluded for him. “I think you would do well to return to your ship and finalize the rotation of your crew, kapteni. You and I will have an opportunity to speak again later. In private.” None of the three still-kneeling zebras looked up to meet Zecora’s gaze. Twilight saw Trafalgar swallow again. Zecora turned her attention now to Twilight, her expression soft and the familiar gentle smile on her lips. “Thank you for your help in accommodating our sailors, colonel. I greatly appreciate your efforts.” The ambassador issued a polite nod of her head in Twilight and Rarity’s direction and turned to depart from the pier. Her attendant, Grevy, followed in the ambassador’s wake, giving the two ponies a wordless nod as well. Only when they had left the pier did the officers rise back up onto their hooves. Gagasi and Khanisa reopened the binder that Twilight had given them and stepped away to start discussing its contents in their own language in low tones. Trafalgar took a slow breath before turning to regard Twilight once more. The next words looked like they had needed to be physically pulled out from his throat. “I am…sorry…for my words and…behavior, Stri—Kanali Sparkle.” It took him another moment to bring himself to say the next words. “I am tired. My tongue outpaced my thoughts.” The other two zebras were very determindly looking like they were not paying attention to the exchange. Sometimes their ears were even facing in the proper direction to not be listening in on it. There was a lot that Twilight could have said to the old stallion—a lot that she wanted to say—in light of his earlier rudeness. However, she’d never been in the habit of kicking a surrendered opponent during the war; and she wasn’t about to get into it now. “Your apology is accepted, Kapteni Trafalgar. I hope that you and your crew find suitable rest on Harmony. “Enjoy your stay.” Twilight turned and started departing the pier as well. Rarity fell in at her side. “Well…that was certainly a ‘thing’; wasn’t it, colonel?” The purple unicorn saw what her XO was attempting to do, but Twilight wasn’t up for being distracted right now. Her mind was too occupied with trying to solve some of the new variables that had been presented to her. “I need you to go to the library.” “Pardon?” “The library,” Twilight repeated, “in The Citadel. I need you—or for you to send somepony—to go to the library and pull every book and scroll we have on how the zebra government is structured. Some language books too. I want to know what ‘Holi-Khulu’ means.” “Whatever for, colonel?” “Did you see how those zebras were kneeling back there?” Twilight’s streaked tail casually flicked in the direction of the uniformed zebras behind them. “Not ‘bowing’—kneeling! I’ve never seen zebra officers kneel like that—especially officer’s of Trafalgar’s rank—not even to generals. “Zecora’s an ambassador—some government appointee. They acted like she was royalty.” “We’ve seen griffons act that way towards government officials,” Rarity felt compelled to point out. “Most griffon government officials are members of the nobility. They aren’t given that level of respect because of their position in the government; they get given their positions in their government as a sign of respect,” Twilight absently corrected her executive officer, her thoughts still swirling with explanations for what she’d seen…and coming up with few that stood up to more than a second of scrutiny. “Zebras don’t have a noble class—or at least I’ve never heard of one. “That’s why I want you to find the books we have on the subject.” “Yes, ma’am. I’ll get on it once I’m back at The Citadel.” A brief pause, then, “If I may, colonel: why do you seem so set on this? So what if Ambassador Zecora has some level of social status in zebra society that gets her a little extra respect or grants her some authority that a regular Equestrian ambassador wouldn’t have; what does that really matter?” It was a fair question, Twilight knew; especially since she was giving her second-in-command a decent bit of extra work because of her concern over this matter. Twilight probably did owe the other unicorn an explanation. “I want to know how far her authority goes with other zebras. She has enough clout to put a senior naval officer in his place; what about a wealthy civilian trying to circumvent cargo handling duties? Can I go directly to her to get it sorted out, or do I need to send a scroll all the way back to Roam for results?” Twilight simply hadn’t felt comfortable giving Rarity the real explanation… The purple unicorn’s thoughts drifted back to the dinner that she’d shared with Zecora—the conversation that the two of them had had about the Council meeting. The words that had been used— She said that she ‘knows me’, but insists that we’ve never met… No…she insisted on the phrase: ‘never formally introduced’. That’s not the same thing. Zecora and I have met before, she just won’t tell me where or when. I hadn’t met many zebras before getting picked to command Harmony Or, rather: I hadn’t ‘been formally introduced’ to many zebras. I ‘met’ a lot of them during the war… Did that mean that Zecora was…? —Ambassadors, by their profession, were very particular about the words that they used. They had to be. After all, there was a world of difference between: ‘being belligerent’ and ‘being a belligerent’. And only a single word of difference. Zecora was hiding things. Usually that wouldn’t bother Twilight all that much. The zebra was serving as an ambassador for her government; she was supposed to hide things from the other representatives as part of her negotiating tactics—Twilight was hiding things! The striped mare hiding secrets about her government’s interests on certain sensitive matters was one thing though. Twilight could let that slide. But Zecora was hiding things about Twilight, and that was a different matter entirely. “I see. I suppose I can see what you’re after,” Rarity said. “I’ll have somepony drop off the books I find sometime tomorrow, I should think.” “Thank you, major; I appreciate it.” “De rien, colonel; think nothing of it.” Rarity smiled and issued a small dismissive wave of her hoof. “Is there anything else you’d like me to look into?” “No, I think that should cover things.” Twilight glanced up towards the nearest clocktower. “I have a meeting with Captain Applejack I need to get to. She’s going to brief me on the weapon emplacements on the bastions. “Carry on, major. I’ll see you at the evening briefing.” Twilight exchanged a brief salute with the ivory unicorn before trotting off to meet with her military police commander. Harmony Fortress was a truly massive installation; unprecedented in her size—at least where pony history was concerned. The island was ringed by literal miles of protective fortifications. dozens of smaller individual bastions protruded out into the sea in concert with its six primary points, providing the fort with interlocking fields of fire from thousands of the large cannons which made up Harmony’s shore batteries. To properly mare every gun simultaneously required ten thousand or more ponies. Such a force would have been an army all its own. Keeping those soldiers fed and housed would have required just about the entirety of the island’s imported resources and available space, leaving hardly any room for the workers and infrastructure required to sustain its trading capabilities. Harmony would have truly been nothing more than a military installation in such a case. So, in the interests of maintaining Harmony’s status as a viable trading hub, and cutting down on the cost to the Equestrian government to operate the fortress, there weren’t enough trained ponies to operate every gun that made up her batteries. All told, there were enough members of the island’s artillery section to reasonably operate approximately five percent of the available guns simultaneously. This didn’t sound like all that many at a glance, Twilight conceded; but when compared to the total number of guns available, it still represented hundreds of pieces being operated all at once. Against even one of the zebra’s more advanced and well-armored warships, that would prove quite a daunting amount of firepower to face off against. Though the marepower disparity did mean that the island’s defenders would be hard-pressed to fend off coordinated attacks from a multitude of angles. At a glance, that too would have looked like quite the oversight. Of course, the reality was that any naval force which arrived in sufficient numbers to surround Harmony Fortress would also have had more than enough ships to outright blockade the island anyway. Realistically, such a hypothetical force wouldn’t even need to engage Hormany’s defensive batteries. They could just anchor out at sea and wait for the inhabitants to run out of food. In a way, Harmony Fortress’ defenses were more performative than substantive. The island couldn’t be left entirely undefended, obviously; otherwise they’d inevitably be raided by pirates looking to acquire some valuables with little risk to their vessels. Of course, installing any defensive emplacements which were obviously capable of demolishing the odd pirate ship or raiding flotilla would never end up being used for such a purpose: the would-be pirates would turn around the moment their lookout counted their way past the hundredth canon and realized they were still looking at the same projecting bastion! Barring a genuinely suicidal pirate crew looking to die in a blaze of glory and cannon fire, Harmony’s shore batteries would never fire a shot in anger. Which suited Twilight just fine, if she was being perfectly honest. Of course, there was something to be said for knowing that the fortress could repel a hypothetical attacker to great effect which let the installation’s commander sleep a little more soundly at night. “—An’ we’ve managed t’ wallop targets out ta three whole miles with these new guns!” Captain Applejack said as she and Twilight watched the gun crew finish up loading the piece that they were preparing to fire for the demonstration. The purple unicorn shifted her attention out to sea, where a small raft had been towed and anchored into position about two miles from the island’s shore. It was a rather simple construction: some lashed-together logs which supported a sturdy section of wall meant to replicate the hull of a ship. Twilight noted that the wall in question had steel sheeting fastened to wooden framing, much like would be found in the construction of griffon steamships. Twilight idly wondered how Ambassador Gilda would feel if she found out about that. She also wondered if the reason that Applejack hadn’t opted for a mock-up of a zebra ship’s hull was due to the presence of the cruiser anchored in the bay. If so, then the unicorn applauded the security mare’s discretion. The gun crew completed loading their round and aiming the weapon at the—mostly—stationary target. They passed Applejack a hoof signal that they were ready to fire and the orange earth pony gave them a nod. Twilight used her telekinesis to make final adjustments to the formed wax stopper that she’d placed into her ears as the gun captain for the crew gave an earth pony holding the firing lanyard the signal to pull. It felt to Twilight like every part of her body vibrated with the sound of the blast. Several seconds later, out at sea, the purple unicorn saw the spout of water as the projectile bounced off the surface…about two ponylengths to the left of the raft that the crew had been aiming for. Honestly, Twilight didn’t think that it had been a bad shot under the circumstances. The crew had certainly gotten the range and elevation right. Had the target raft been as broad as an actual cruiser or battleship, the vessel would absolutely have been impacted by the shot. That didn’t mean that Applejack was satisfied with the performance of one of her gun crews though. “Reload!” the sturdy earth pony mare bellowed. “This time try aimin’ at it with both yer eyes open, Caramel! “If y’all ain’t on target this time, Ah’mma have ya swim out to it an’ knock it over, y’hear?!” Twilight heard the chorus of muffled acknowledgements as the ponies scrambled to pull the gun back from the wall on its carriage and began to swiftly reload it. As Twilight eyed the bags of pre-measured powder being carried towards the bore to be loaded she leaned closer to Applejack so that the earth pony could hear her through her own plugged ears. “That’s a little harsh. They came pretty close, all things considered.” “‘Close’ is for tossin’ horseshoes,” the orange mare scoffed in reply. “Ain’t no ship e’er been sunk by a cannonball lan’in’ ‘close’ to ‘em!” “That target out there is a lot smaller than a ship,” the unicorn tried once more to excuse the unsatisfactory—to Applejack—performance of the gun crew. They were loading in the shell now. It was no ‘cannonball’ as the captain had alluded to, but rather one of the newer conical explosive-packed munitions that had recently been developed. They didn’t quite pack the same punch as those employed by the zebras—Twilight understood that they used something with a little more ‘pizzazz’ than simple gunpowder for their charges—but they were more than capable of causing massive damage to a target. Supposing that they actually hit it. “A ship’s broadside maybe,” the other mare conceded, “but what about’a bow profile? Lahk when a ship’s common’ right at us? That right there’s about the size of a frigate makin’ an approach.” This time it was Twilight who was forced to concede the observation with a nod. “Now, maybe a ship ain’t gonna be doin’ a lotta shootin’ at us like that—certainly not at two miles out,” Applejack continued. “But Ah can’t see no reason to let’em get close enough t’where they’re comfortable shootin’ broadsides at us. “Better we sink’em before they get that close, I reckon. We got an elevated position and a sturdier firin’ platform,” the earth pony stomped her hoof on the stone flooring of the bastion. “Ah aim to capitalize on it.” Now the mare’s emerald eyes narrowed at the gun crew—specifically their captain. “An someponies better aim period! Caramel!” The amber earth pony—whom Twilight assumed was the stallion in question—winced beneath the felt glare of his superior officer as he climbed up to check the muzzle’s sighting. Then he checked it again. Then a third time. He moved to climb back down…then he hesitated and took another sighting. Applejack apparently decided he was taking long enough. “Today, corporal!” Caramel jerked and hopped down from the gun. He took hold of the readied lanyard in his teeth, checked the positions of the rest of his crew around the breech of the weapon, and gave the rope a firm yank. Once more, the mighty gun bucked and roared. Once more, Twilight turned to peer at the distant raft. It erupted in a geyser of water, splinters, and twisted metal sheeting. Most of the gun crew cheered at their success. Caramel’s hind end collapsed as a wave of relief visibly crashed over his features. For her part, Captain Applejack looked genuinely satisfied…for about half a second. She had managed to mask the expression by the time she’d turned back to regard the gun crew, shooting them all an annoyed glare. “Now why couldn’t y’all’ve done that the first time? Makin’ me look bad in front of the commander by not gettin’ it in one, like Ah know y’can?” She chided, jabbing a hoof in Twilight’s direction. “Report to the docks,” she snapped at the group. “Y’all’re gonna help the carpenters there make a dozen more target rafts. Then y’all’re gonna be up here at dawnbreak shootin’ at ‘em until ya don’t need to resight a target. Caramel.” And with that, the collective cheer of the gun crew had been thoroughly quashed. The six-pony crew released a collective groan and went about standing the gun down. Twilight heard a few comments being muttered in the direction of their gun captain, and none of them were particularly flattering. The unicorn and earth pony officers turned and resumed the tour of the fortress’ defenses. “I wish we’d had guns like that ten years ago,” Twilight said with a sigh, her magic plucking the wax from her ears before helping the commander of the military police company remove hers. “They probably wouldn’t have won us the war, but they’d have made the zebras hurt a little more…” “Might’a kept ‘em at bay long enough to evacuate more ponies,” Applejack said. The purple unicorn walking beside her silently nodded in agreement. The two mares said nothing for several long minutes as they continued their walk along the wall, occasionally pausing to check that guns had been properly stowed, their muzzles plugged to prevent seebirds from trying to make a home of their barrels. Twilight made notes of instances of rust that she saw. She penciled a reminder to herself to have an inspection off all the gun carriages conducted to replace bearings which were showing signs of corrosion. “Y’all got any family what survived the war, colonel?” The question surprised Twilight, both in its appearance and its subject matter, so it took her a moment to form her answer. “My parents. They were in Canterlot.” “Lucked out, Ah guess.” “Yeah. I guess.” Several long moments of silence. “You said you were from Dodge Junction? How about your family? Were they…you know?” “Some,” Applejack confirmed stiffly. “Apples are a big family. We’re all over Equestria.” A grimace followed by a sigh. “Well…were, at any rate. Brother and sister both survived. They’re both here too; I relocated them to the island with me. “Brother tends to the gardens. Mah sister…” The earth pony mare’s eyes narrowed as she turned to survey the interior of the island, as though searching for something. Twilight couldn’t imagine what the mare was looking for though. Not much was visible from where they were. A little bit of the more ‘lively’ part of Ponyville, but other than that… “...She mostly causes problems.” The mare’s ears lofted forward, seeking out distant sounds. Applejack maintained her stare for some time before finally relaxing and resuming her leisurely walk along the wall. “Not at the moment though. Shockin’ly…” Twilight couldn’t help but chuckle. She recalled being something of a hoofful herself, in very specific ways. “Siblings; we love to hate them.” “Yeah,” the orange earth pony sighed in agreement, a wistful smile curling the corner of her own lip. “We do at that.” Applejack lifted her head, peering up into the air. Then she glanced over her shoulder towards Twilight. “Fancy an early supper, colonel?” “I could eat,” the purple unicorn decided after a few moment’s thought. She hadn’t eaten a lot for lunch. Her relatively recent interaction with Trafalgar had left her appetite wanting at the time. Now though, she’d put it far enough behind her to feel like she could eat a proper meal this time. “Have a place in mind, captain?” “Ah know a little place, sure. Follow me!” The two mares descended from the wall and headed towards the fortress’ interior. It wasn’t too long after midday, and the streets were still filled with creatures going about their errands and getting in a little shopping like they usually did. If there was anything different about today, it was that Twilight spotted a few more uniformed zebras than she was used to seeing. Most were wearing the blue or red uniforms of the Zebrican navy and marines; almost certainly members of the Dominance’s crew. They traveled mostly in pairs or trios, from what the unicorn was seeing, with few groups being much larger than five. Judging from the sections of the markets that they were concentrated in, most of them were availing themselves to the fresher fruits and vegetables for sale in the markets than what was available to them back on the ship. There also seemed to be a good number of them patronizing the local bars and taverns. “It’s right over here,” Applejack said, directing the purple unicorn towards an otherwise unassuming stall which had a couple of tables out in front of it. The sign above it read: ‘Windy’s’, next to a painted sign depicting a young grinning mare with her mane done up in a pair of braids. “They’ve got the best soyburgers on the island,” the earth pony insisted. “Decent enough hayfries too.” The pair placed their orders for two of the specials and then relaxed at one of the tables. Twilight found her mind wandering as she watched the activity around her. Ponies, zebras, griffons, minotaurs, and a menagerie of other creatures all wandered the streets, browsing wares and ordering food. The sight brought a smile to the unicorn’s face. The various creatures of the world, going about their day in the company of one another. Existing together… It was…nice. It gave Twilight hope. Well, the illusion of hope anyway, the mare supposed with a bitter thought. There were more variables at play than might immediately occur to the casual observer: for one, the population on Harmony didn’t consist of anything that might even be charitably considered to be a ‘random sample’. The island’s inhabitants weren’t just any old collection of creatures: they were all on Harmony because they wanted to be on Harmony. These beings wanted to live among other races. Whether to facilitate business, to learn, because they had a fascination with ‘the foreign’—the reasons might be their own, but the result was the same: This was ‘artificial’ harmony. Harmony of coincidence. Twilight knew that, if she went back to Canterlot, she wouldn’t find many non-pony races outside of the diplomatic enclaves. The same would be true for Roam, Griffonstone, Smog…the overwhelming majority of creatures had no interest in living among other races. They preferred their own kind—the familiar. Harmony Fortress was an anomaly. In many ways, it was even an experiment. One with a lot of variables— Applejack was the first to pick up on the disturbance. Her ears perked up, turning in concert to face the direction from which the subtle shift in atmosphere appeared to be originating. Twilight picked up on the rising emotions in the air a few seconds later when she noticed that a lot of other creatures making their way along the road were slowing their pace and turning their heads in one particular direction. Silence began to descend. It allowed both mares to more easily pick out the yelling. Both ponies were out of their seats and moving at a gallop, their half-eaten meals forgotten, the moment they heard the sound of breaking glass. “So help me…if those two are at it again—!” Applejack was snarling as she raced ahead of the smaller purple unicorn. Twilight did her best to keep up with the faster mare, but it was always hard to match an earth pony’s raw physical attributes. Twilight did silently share the head of security’s sentiment though: she really didn’t want to have to deal with the aftermath of one of Gilda and Ember’s fights right now. Not after what she’d gone through with Trafalgar this morning. Much to the two mares’ surprise—though by no means their relief—neither ambassador appeared to be present at the site of the disturbance. Indeed, while there was genuinely a fight going on in the middle of one of the district’s more narrow streets, there wasn’t much of a sign of any griffons or dragons being involved in it. The belligerents in this instance were limited to ponies and zebras. The former wearing blue uniforms that were similar to Twilights, while the latter wore scarlet. Oh no… If Applejack was struck by the parallel between this fight and The Great War, the broad-shouldered orange earth pony gave no sign. She simply leaped into the middle of the fray and started bucking combatants away from one another. Several other ponies, dressed in the gray vests which identified them as belonging to the fortress’ military police, soon arrived on the scene and quickly charged in to try and separate the equines as well. However, with the melee already in full swing, the ponies and zebras involved were effectively oblivious to anything beyond their immediate opponent. She tried to use her telekinesis to haul ponies and zebras apart from one another, but it was difficult for her to manage holding multiple targets like that simultaneously. Likewise, her shouted orders for the ponies nominally under her command to withdraw were going unheeded. Nopony was listening to her, and Twilight couldn’t yell loud enough to get their attention. Twilight ground her teeth in frustration. Her gaze darted towards more crimson-coated zebras rounding a corner. There was little doubt in the purple mare’s mind that the fight would escalate if it wasn’t stopped completely; and soon. The unicorn’s magic lanced out towards a nearby stall that was peddling in cheap jewelry, snagging an opal pendant. It wasn’t a particularly high-quality stone. In fact, in Twilight’s own opinion, even the suspiciously discounted price was far higher than the quality of the gemstone justified. However, poor quality or not, the purple mare judged that it would suffice. She focused her magic and cast her spell. A moment later, Twilight whipped the now-glowing opal into the air above the mass of brawling equines. In a technical sense, the result was an ‘explosion’. However, to have described the event as such would have doubtlessly conjured an image in the mind that far exceeded the actual spectacle Twilight created. To borrow an expression used by the diamond dogs: the blast was ‘all bark and no bite’. Loud yes; but not destructive to any noteworthy extent. At least, beyond the temporary damage that might have been done to an eardrum or two. Twilight’s efforts had the desired effect though: the sound of what could forgivably be mistaken for a grenade detonating above their heads made every combatant pause. Punches and kicks alike froze mid-delivery as all eyes went skyward. Yells and curses died in slack jaws. There was silence. Then Twilight was shouting: “Stand down!” Ears, both striped and pastel, pinned back as heads turned in the direction of the uniformed purple officer. “Break this up; now!” Ponies and zebras each tentatively released their opponents and started to back away. Those who couldn’t stand up were dragged by their comrades. Those who weren’t moving fast enough for Applejack’s liking were ‘helped’ along by her security ponies. The zebras likewise started to police their own. For the most part, anyway. Twilight’s gaze was immediately drawn to one part of the mob where a pony and zebra pair looked to still be trying to continue the fight. Fortunately, each was being held back by their fellows. “I said: this fight is over!” the unicorn snapped, irritably as she stomped her way over to where the snarling equines were still trying to get at one another. The Equestrian of the pair, a soft pink earth pony mare whose uniform sleeve bore the—now mostly torn off—chevrons of a sergeant, snapped back at Twilight. “This bitch killed Sage Brush!” The unicorn mare stalled. Her amethyst eyes darted to a forest green stallion laying on the ground nearby. One of his comrades and a gray-vested security pony were already looking him over. However, even from where Twilight was standing, she could see that the bloodied stallion was dead. She’d seen enough death to recognize it easily. Her eyes now turned towards the snarling zebra mare that was still struggling to get free of the stallions straining to hold her back. While it was hard to spot on her crimson uniform’s coat, the blood splattered across her face and dripping from her shoed hooves was easy enough to spot. “Alinishambulia!” The striped mare spat, unhelpfully. Her repetition of the word didn’t aid Twilight with its comprehension. One of her companions, at least, appeared to know some Equestrian. Or, at least, was calm enough to bother to speak it. “Pony attack!” He yelled in Twilight’s direction, clearly having deduced that she had authority over the ponies. “Pony attack!” He jabbed his hoof at the dead stallion before pounding his own chest. “Zebra defend!” “Horseapples!” The pink mare snarled back. “You lying stripe! Sage didn’t do shit to you!” Her tear-filled sapphire eyes locked onto Twilight now as well. “They started it, ma’am!” At least somepony finally recognized that Twilight was an officer, the unicorn thought to herself. “They tried pushing us out of our bar!” The mare’s eyes returned to the zebras now, glaring with rage. “That’s all stripes know how to fucking do: push ponies out of their homes!” “Remember Palomino!” A pony within the mob that Applejack was rounding up for questioning shouted out, rekindling the familiar warcry that had been used early on in the war. A few other ponies echoed it. Once more, Twilight could feel the air becoming charged with hate. “At ease!” Once more her authoritative shout was enough to bring about silence. “Captain Applejack, round up everypony here and take them to the stockade. We’ll figure out who did what from there—” “Kanali Sparkle!” Twilight’s head turned towards the source of the yell. The origin proved to be the small party of zebras she’d noticed approaching earlier. At the head of the group was a familiar young stallion that she’d met that morning. Khanisa strode up to the unicorn, his gaze only briefly flicking to the nearby zebra marines who were all stiffening to attention upon seeing him approach. “Kanali, I cannot allow you to take my zebras into custody. They are not Equestrians. You have no authority over them,” the officer, much more junior than Twilight, insisted. The unicorn frowned. “Whether they are Equestrian citizens or not, this island is, Luteni; I enforce the laws here against anycreature.” “The Zebrican Conclave does not recognize the authority of other governments over our citizens,” Khanisa reiterated. “Regardless of whose territory it is. “I cannot allow them to be imprisoned by you, Kanali. I am sorry.” For what it might be worth to Twilight, the young stallion’s final words at least sounded sincere. Regardless, it was clear that Applejack didn’t seem to care for what the marine officer was saying any more than Twilight did. “Now hol’ on there a minute! A pony died here; an’ Ah need to investigate that. Which means that Ah need access to all the witnesses an’ suspects,” she waved her hoof around to encompass all of the uniformed equines. “Zebras included!” “We will question our own,” Khanisa affirmed. “An’ Ah’m just supposed to take yer word for they tell you—?!” Applejack nearly spat back. “Captain…” Twilight didn’t quite growl in warning at her subordinate. The orange earth pony shot her superior a quick glare before snorting and turning her attention back to at least sorting out the detention of all of the ponies involved in the fighting. The purple unicorn took a breath before continuing her discussion with the marine officer. “Luteni, while I can appreciate the position that you feel you’re in as their commanding officer, I can not allow suspects in a murder investigation to walk around free.” “They will be held aboard the Dominance,” Khanisa assured her. “Having them aboard a ship that can leave at any minute is hardly an improvement!” Twilight shot back tersely. “Whether you ‘recognize Equestrian authority’ or not, I assume that zebras still treat killing somecreature as a serious offense, don’t you?” “Only so long as the killing was not justified.” The stallion nodded in the direction of the bloodied mare. “My marine says she was attacked by the pony.” “She’s a lying bitch—!” Twilight ignored the outburst which sounded to have come from the same pink mare from earlier. “My ponies say that your zebras were the aggressors. Until we have conducted a thorough investigation and questioned all of those involved, we can’t know who is lying.” “My marines do not lie!” Khanisa snarled, charging a step closer to Twilight fast enough that the unicorn briefly wondered if he might actually make contact with her. While the lieutenant didn’t actually touch Twilight, the unicorn got the feeling that he very much wanted to. “Live, fight, die; A’Skari do all things with honor!” “What ‘honor’ was there in burning Dodge Junction to the ground?” Twilight heard the orange security head’s low growl. The flick of Khanisa’s ear suggested that the zebra had too. He seemed to be willing to let the remark slide without comment though. His gaze never left Twilight’s. “If my marine says the pony attacked first, then it is so, and his death was his own folly.” “Why you little—!” “Captain Applejack!” Twilight called out, not diverting her own attention from the marine commander. “Get these ponies to the stockade. Now.” There was no immediate move to comply with her order. “...And the zebras, colonel?” “We will deal with our own.” It wasn’t Khanisa who spoke this time though. A new voice entered the discussion, if a familiar one. Twilight turned to see Zecora approaching them. She almost missed the aborted attempt by the marine lieutenant to kneel. “Ambassador Zecora, as I was explaining to the Luteni,” Twilight said with audible strain in her voice. She wasn’t looking forward to arguing with the Zebrican ambassador in public. “This is an active investigation; we can’t allow suspects in a murder to leave the island.” Zecora said nothing for several moments. Her gaze wandered the surrounding section of market, taking in the bloodied zebras and ponies, as well as the dead stallion lying on the street. When those turquoise finally returned to Twilight, they were unyielding. “The zebras will be held aboard the Dominance.” Before Twilight could reiterate her objection, the striped mare held up a hoof. “The Dominance shall not leave her anchorage until this matter is resolved. “You have my word on this. I will make this stipulation clear to Kapteni Trafalgar.” Twilight frowned. She looked back towards Applejack, who wasn’t looking particularly swayed by the assurance of the ambassador. However, she did at least nod her head in reluctant acceptance before she turned her full attention to getting the involved ponies into custody. Presumably somepony was contacting the clinic about collecting the body of the dead stallion. “Fine,” the purple unicorn relented. “But Captain Applejack and her investigators will be granted access to the suspects for questioning whenever they request it.” It was not a request; it was a condition. Zecora’s nod suggested that she would indeed treat it as one. Twilight then returned her gaze to Khanisa and nodded, stepping aside to let him collect his battered marines. “I appreciate your understanding on this matter, Colonel Sparkle,” Zecora said. “I don’t understand, ambassador; not really,” Twilight countered, an edge present in her voice. “But I am trusting you.” The striped mare inclined her head slightly. “Then I appreciate your trust,” she corrected gently. The pair stood together for a time as Applejack cleared out the uniformed ponies and Khanisa cleared out the uniformed zebras. It wasn’t long before the two equines were standing with the body in relative seclusion. A number of the fortress’ security ponies had established a perimeter around the scene to keep other creatures away. Somepony was on their way to get word to Doctor Fluttershy about the fatality. The pegasus would arrange for the collection and autopsy from there. “Ten years.” Zecora said nothing. “We only managed to go ten years without a zebra killing a pony. Soldiers, no less.” Twilight’s scoff couldn’t have been more derisive at the thought. “Equestrian and Zebrican soldiers, fighting in the streets—killing each other… “...We haven’t made any progress at all, have we?” Twilight turned now to look at the zebra standing beside her. She idly wondered if she was hoping to find answers to her question. If she was, none were apparent on the impassive striped face of the other equine. “Milia haibadi mara nyingi majira.” Zecora stated solemnly. At Twilight’s questioning look, she elaborated: “‘One’s stripes do not change as often as the seasons’.” The unicorn frowned. “I was under the impression a zebra’s stripes never changed at all.” The corner of the ambassador’s mouth twitched slightly as she nodded in acknowledgement. “The ones on our bodies do not,” she conceded. She reached up and touched her hoof to her head. “But, up here; those stripes can shift. It is just slow. “It takes words, and action, and time—a lot of time.” Zecora put her hoof back down and shrugged. “Perhaps you and I, Colonel Sparkle, will never see a world where ponies and zebras stand flank-to-flank in sisterhood.” The twitch at the corner of her mouth finally broke free into a smile, if only a wan one. “But, I hold out hope that our foals might know such a world. Or, if not them, their foals after them. “In my heart, I believe the world will someday know peace.” Her eyes returned to the body. The smile melted away. “Just not today.” “No,” Twilight agreed with a heavy sigh, “not today.” Author's Note Can't we all just get along! As always, a thumbs up and comment are always greatly appreciated If you like the cover art and want to see more stories get them, I've set up a Cover Art Fund if you're interested and have any bits lying around!
Chapter 5: Matters of HonorTwilight Sparkle and Applejack stood in the clinic’s reception area, awaiting the official determination of the stallion’s cause of death from the fortress’ chief medical officer. Everypony involved recognized that this was largely a formality. How the green earth pony had died hadn’t really been in doubt. Even the zebras who had been there agreed that he had been killed in the fighting. That didn’t mean that an autopsy wasn’t still a necessary step. While the purple unicorn highly doubted that any other outcome would come to pass, there was always the chance— The doors leading deeper into the clinic opened. A yellow pegasus mare, covered nearly snout to hoof in scrubs that were now more red than white, stepped through them. Her wing reached out and swept the cap restraining her mane off of her head, allowing the long pink strands to once more fall over most of her face. A singular visible baby blue eye quickly found the two officers who had been waiting for the physician to complete her work. Her other wing held out a folder containing her written findings. “...The cause of death was blunt force trauma,” she said softly. “Multiple kicks were delivered to his neck and head.” The pegasus closed her eyes and took a breath. When she regarded the other two ponies again, it was with a knowing look. “...I recognize the pattern. You both would too.” The news wasn’t surprising, but Twilight found it no less unwelcome. Her horn glowed with a violet aura as she accepted the offered report. She glanced over it before nodding. “So she did kill him.” Neither of the other ponies reacted like there’d been any real doubt on the matter. “Now we just need to figure out if it was self-defense or not.” “That ain’t gonna be easy,” Captain Applejack pointed out with a note of resignation. “The ponies say the zebras started it, while the zebras’re sayin’ the ponies threw the first kick. “So far the ponies we got in custody are all stickin’ to the same story: they were in the bar, mindin’ their own business, when a buncha zebras stomped in and started pushin’ ‘em around.” “And what are the zebras saying happened?” Twilight inquired. “Wish I could tell ya, colonel,” the orange earth pony didn’t quite spit, irritation obvious in her frustrated expression. “Ah ain’t been able to talk to any of ‘em yet. That ‘Luteni’ feller told me to put in an official request with their embassy if I wanted to see ‘em—which I did. Now Ah’m apparently supposed to just sit on my tail and wait for a response. “An’ who knows when that’ll be!” Twilight frowned. Zecora had agreed to allow Applejack access to the zebras involved in the fight when the earth pony requested it. However, she supposed that there had been some degree of ambiguity when it came to the promptness with which that request was granted. “I’ll talk with Ambassador Zecora about getting your request expedited,” the unicorn promised. “Ah appreciate that, colonel; but there honestly probably ain’t gonna be much point by now.” Upon seeing Twilight’s raised eyebrow, the earth pony elaborated. “Unless those zebras were segregated on that cruiser—an’ Mah understandin’ is that there ain’t a whole lotta room on a ship to do that in the first place—then they’ve had hours to collectively agree on what happened and get their stories straight. “A big part of investigatin’ witnesses and fin’in’ the truth of what happened is seein’ where the stories don’t line up.” Applejack gave an annoyed snort. “Ah won’t be able to do that with the zebras now.” “Does that mean that you found some inconsistencies with the ponies’ stories?” The muzzle of the head of security scrunched up. “Kin’a? They all agree the ‘zebras started it’, but there’s a little variation on the ‘how’,” Applejack said. “Some say they heard the yelling first before the first kick happened. Some say they saw the zebras come in and start shovin’ everypony around the moment they were through the door. One said that she saw that zebra mare walk right up to the dead feller and buck’em without a word of warnin’. “Ah don’t expect eye-witness accounts to line up perfect, mind you; but if they generally agree with each other, that’s usually a sign that they’re all telling the truth.” “So you believe that the zebra did start the fight?” Twilight hedged. The unicorn wasn’t sure what it said about her that she’d privately been hoping for the opposite to be true. If the final findings of this incident really were reported back in Equestria as a group of Zebrican marines starting a fight and killing a pony mere hours after getting off of their boat… Well, Twilight didn’t harbor much hope for that doing anything to exactly improve the public’s opinion of zebras back home. “That’s what the evidence Ah have at hoof right now suggests, yes, colonel,” Applejack stated very carefully. “But there’s still a lot else to look at. Mah ponies ain’t asked around the area about other witnesses to the fight an’ what they might’a seen yet.” “...If it matters,” Doctor Fluttershy managed to interject, a wing gesturing to the report still floating in Twilight’s magic. “Sage Brush wasn’t completely taken by surprise. His hooves showed evidence of him doing some kicking of his own.” The purple unicorn opened up the report once more and flipped to the page detailing the condition of the deceased’s hooves. She read over the notations about the chipping of the keratin, the bruising of the frogs, and the signs of blood which were unlikely to have been the stallion’s own. He had indeed fought back. Given how Twilight recalled the zebra mare looking, he’d even given a decent accounting of himself in the fight before he was killed. Twilight’s eyes narrowed before she turned back to an earlier page in the report, rereading it more closely. After a few long moments, she looked back up at the yellow pegasus. “Doctor, in your opinion, which blow would you say killed Private Sage Brush? Ultimately?” The physician grimaced at that question, but appeared to give it considerable thought before finally answering. “...If I had to pick, then I’d go with the kick to his throat. It crushed his trachea. A few of his injuries could have killed him eventually, but that’s the one I’m inclined to lean towards right now, colonel: asphyxiation.” “No real surprise there,” Applejack noted. “We’re taught to kick for the throat if you can back in boot camp. Ah can’t imagine it’d be too much different for the stripes.” Twilight cast an aside glance at the orange earth pony’s use of a term for zebras that was ‘less-than-politique’, but elected not to comment on it at the moment. “It isn’t,” she confirmed. “Zebrican military training emphasizes quick, powerful, strikes to a target’s head and throat in order to take them down quickly and efficiently. Just like we see in this report,” she indicated the floating file folder. “I want you to talk with Private Sage Brush’s section sergeant and his CO,” she said to Applejack. “Okay…” the earth pony agreed with a wary note in her voice. “...why? None of them were anywhere near the fight; they wouldn’t’a seen anythin’.” Twilight waved the report in the air between them. “It takes one tough son-of-a-bison to shrug off a surprise buck to the head well enough to go on and make a Zebrican marine bleed. I want you to find out from his superiors if this stallion really was that tough. “And if it turns out that he really was some sort of Iron Pony contender, then I want you to find out why some recruiter put a pony like that in pony resources,” Twilight said after sparing a glance at the front page of the file, which contained the stallion’s identifying information, “and not in a frontline regiment where a pony like that belongs. “I really don’t want to find out we nearly lost the last war because it turns out we’d been sticking all of our best fighters behind desks this whole time.” Twilight shared a sardonic smile with her head of security. For her part, it was clear that Applejack recognized what the unicorn was getting at, and was now wearing a thoughtful expression. “Yeah…Ah’ll go have a talk with ‘em.” “Thank you. And thank you, doctor. Your report was very thorough,” Twilight noted. The pegasus accepted the praise with a wordless nod. “Well, I have a meeting with the donkeys to get to about those grain tariffs. They’re still not happy with the latest revision of the terms.” The purple unicorn gauged her present company and then allowed herself a role of her eyes in visible frustration. “Personally, I think that they just like being cranky all the time.” She sighed and shook her head. “I’ll see the both of you at the staff meeting this afternoon. Carry on.” After receiving acknowledging nods from both ponies, Twilight left the clinic to go and attend to her other duties. While the incident at the bar was a serious matter, it didn’t mean that everything else going on got put on pause. Twilight penciled in a reminder to herself to make some time to speak with Ambassador Zecora about letting Applejack speak with the zebra marines who’d been involved in the fighting. Even if their testimonies had had time to be compromised through group coordination, it might still be worth an interview. She certainly didn’t envy the idea of drafting a report which concluded that the zebras had started the fight without actually talking with the involved zebras. That certainly wasn’t going to help Equestrian-Zebrican relations… A thoroughly emotionally drained Twilight Sparkle was dragging herself down the corridors of The Citadel several excruciating hours later. The session with the donkey delegation had been…trying. If I hear the word ‘tariff’ one more time today…I’m blowing up the island. She wasn’t certain that the thought was an entirely hyperbolic one… Operating under the assumption that a good meal would help to undo so much of the stress that the day had brought with it, Twilight was on her way to the cafeteria when she heard somepony approaching from behind her. “Um…Colonel Sparkle?” The little purple mare’s first response was to tense up and bite back a frustrated growl. The last thing that she wanted right now was to deal with any more ‘official business’ in either her capacity as the diplomatic representative of Equestria, or as the commanding officer of the fortress. She just wanted to eat something in peace, like a normal pony. To have an hour to herself. Duty waited for no mare, however. So Twilight swallowed back all of her mounting frustrations, took a second to let out a slow breath, and turned to greet the pony who was likely going to be the latest contributor to a prematurely graying mane. She was a little surprised to see that it was Captain Rainbow Dash who’d approached her. “Yes, captain? What can I do for you?” The prismatic-maned flier shifted uncomfortably on her hooves. Twilight hadn’t known the cerulean pegasus for long, but it was clear that this was not a common state for the mare. The fact that she was uncomfortable and recognized that somepony else was seeing her like this only served to make the squadron leader ever more uncomfortable. Her ears and eyes both scan the corridor, lingering on anypony else who’s visible. “Can we talk? In private?” There’s a noticeable pause before the pegasus adds a belated ‘ma’am’ to her request. Twilight cast a lingering look in the direction of the cafeteria before letting out a resigned sigh and nodding. “Come to my office, captain.” The pair ascended back up to the administration level of The Citadel and entered Twilight’s office. It was still fairly sparsely decorated, having only been in use for a week. However, the unicorn had added a few personal effects in that time. She’d also sent out a request to her parents to have more of her things back in Equestria shipped over, now that the unicorn had seen just how much room she was going to have to work with on Harmony. Rainbow Dash noticed a couple of items which stood out to her almost immediately. The pegasus was barely two steps into the room before magenta eyes locked onto a medallion set upon a black velvet backing sitting on a shelf behind the purple mare’s desk. It was a medallion which everypony in the Equestrian military recognized. “You were at Canterhorn?” Judging from the wince which immediately followed the flier’s words, Twilight suspected that the question had been intended to remain a purely internal one, escaping only because of whatever matter it was which had brought the mare to seek out Twilight in the first place. So the purple unicorn didn’t begrudge Rainbow Dash the question as her own gaze also turned towards the familiar medal. “I was,” she confirmed, and offered no other elaboration beyond that. Nor did Rainbow Dash ask for details. Nopony ever did. The climactic battle of The Great War had happened only ten years ago, but it had already been cemented in legend. In Twilight’s opinion, it had reason to essentially hold a mythical status in the minds of ponies. After all, it was the battle which had ‘saved Equestria’. The moment where ponies finally stopped the zebras once and for all, inflicting such grave losses that the striped invaders had, ceased their hostilities, fled back across the seas, and begged the ponies to become their allies. That was the narrative which the public had crafted for themselves to reconcile the events which had followed the Battle of Canterhorn Mountain, at least. The official narrative wasn’t too different. Twilight didn’t care for either. Not that the unicorn had been privy to any other explanation as to how it was that the zebras had gone from being on the precipice of completely annihilating Equestria to withdrawing with all haste back to their homeland in a single night. Something about the Battle of Canterhorn Mountain had obviously reversed the willingness of the zebras to continue to prosecute the war to its ultimate conclusion; even with their ultimate victory clearly within their grasp. Twilight’s own recollection of the battle was…fuzzy. She’d been hurt in the fighting; apparently seriously enough that she’d been rendered unconscious for the remainder of it, only being found by Equestrian medics the following morning after the Zebrica forces had withdrawn. What little of the fight that she did remember with clarity though was hard to reconcile with the aftermath that had been related to her in the hospital. The zebras had managed to get so close to Canterlot under cover of darkness. They’d effectively caught the ponies by complete surprise. The same army that had flattened Fillydelphia had been poised to do the same to the last major pony settlement… …And then they hadn’t. Their armies had gone home instead and then their government sent envoys to sue for peace, offering Equestria ridiculously equitable terms in the process. The zebras had even paid reparations! To Twilight, none of it made any sense; and she hated things that didn’t make sense… The second item that Captain Rainbow Dash noticed was another medal of significance. This one was sitting on the corner of the unicorn’s desk. Unlike the medallion on the shelf, which had been commissioned specifically to recognize the participation of ponies in the Battle of Canterhorn Mountain, this other award was more generic; though arguably more prestigious. The medallion for Canterhorn had been given out to every soldier who’d been in and around Canterlot that morning. Tens of thousands of ponies from the war had one just like hers. Whereas medals like the one on her desk had only ever been awarded to a relative few. At the time that then-Captain Twilight Sparkle had been presented with it, only thirty seven other ponies had been awarded an Equestrian Order of Valor. Rainbow Dash’s wide-eyed stare indicated that she recognized that medal too. However, unlike the medallion on the bookshelf, she managed to restrain herself from asking about it. For which Twilight was grateful. She took the opportunity to direct the mare’s attention back to whatever it was which had prompted her to request this meeting in the first place. “Sit.” Twilight gestured to the chair in front of her desk while she took her own seat behind it. “So what’s the matter, captain?” Rainbow Dash didn’t sit. She stood in front of the desk and fidgeted. “That fight this morning? I…might have some information on who started it. “...It wasn’t the zebras.” All of the purple mare’s weariness evaporated in an instant. She sat bolt upright on her seat, gaping at the pegasus. “You do? It wasn’t?!” A wave of relief crashed over her. Sure, it wasn’t great that ponies had started the fight, but it was slightly better than the other way around. “I need you to tell me everything that you saw,” Twilight insisted. “Then we’ll get Applejack so that you can tell her and she can put it into the report.” Rainbow Dash winced. “Actually…I didn’t see anything.” Twilight frowned. “But you know somepony who did?” she hedged, earning a nod from the cerulean pegasus. The purple mare paused for a moment while she sorted all of her observations from the last few minutes. “I’m assuming that there’s a reason they don’t want to come forward directly?” The pegasus sighed and started pacing back and forth in front of Twilight’s desk. “The thing is, the ponies who saw what happened…well, they were doing something that they really shouldn’t have—nothing illegal!” She hastily clarified. “Just…very against regulations. “Potentially career-ending, in fact.” Twilight was grimacing now. “Are they trying to offer their testimony in exchange for us looking the other way?” “No, nothing like that,” Rainbow said, shaking her head. “That’s just the thing though: they could have not told me anything about what they saw or how they were in a position to see it—erm…” The pegasus cringed slightly before hurriedly continuing, though her cheeks looked slightly flushed now. “Who would have known, right? Instead, they came to me and outed themsel—” Another flushed wince. “Revealed what they had been up to, because they knew they had to tell somepony what they saw. “They heard the rumors going around that the zebras were the ones that had started shit and killed a pony. They knew that wasn’t true, so they came forward. To me.” Rainbow Dash took a deep breath and then looked at Twilight. “They’re good ponies, colonel. Great fliers. I need them on my team, and I don’t think it’s right for them to get punished for doing the right thing by coming forward when they didn’t have to. “So, if you want to talk to them, then you have to promise that there won’t be any official record of what they were doing when they witnessed the fight.” Captain Rainbow Dash held the unicorn’s gaze firmly. “That’s my requirement, not theirs.” A couple seconds elapsed before a belated “ma’am” was finally tacked onto the end. Twilight considered everything that the pegasus had just told her. She leaned forward on her desk and steepled her hooves in front of her muzzle, returning the pegasus’ stare. “...Are you making demands, captain?” “I’m protecting my ponies,” she insisted. “I’m already dealing with the regulation violation. Internally. There doesn’t need to be a record about that part.” “Because it would impact their careers,” Twilight reiterated evenly. Rainbow Dash nodded. It didn’t take the unicorn long to decide that the matter of some ponies violating some regulations was far outweighed by the possibility of averting a possible diplomatic incident. “Very well, captain. Tell your ponies who saw the fight to come see me. Right now. “I will have Captain Applejack here too to take their statements though.” Twilight saw the protest forming on the pegasus mare's lips and held up a hoof to fend it off. “I’ll talk to her about how to frame the specifics about where they were and what they were doing. “Realistically, it should only really come up if there’s a formal court martial,” the unicorn pointed out, “and there’s no guarantee that it’ll actually get that far. “As it stands, the ponies involved in the fight are insisting the zebras started it. If it turns out that’s not true, then it might be enough for Applejack to just mention the existence of other witnesses—without naming names—to get them to recant their statements. The final report probably won’t even need to mention your ponies at all.” She saw the leader of the fortress’ air squadrons visibly relax upon hearing her words. “Thank you. Ma’am.” Twilight spent a few moments internally wrestling with whether or not she wanted to press the pegasus for details about the nature of the regulations that her ponies had been violating. The idea that ponies on Harmony were breaking the rules—and doing so to a degree that apparently could seriously harm their careers—and weren’t going to face any serious punishment for it didn’t sit entirely well with the unicorn. After all, the regulations—and the consequences for violating them—existed for a reason. On the other hoof, Twilight was also aware that, sometimes, extenuating circumstances needed to be taken into account. She also wasn’t about to make it her business to micromanage her subordinates. Otherwise it kind of defeated the purpose of even having subordinates. She’d trust Captain Rainbow Dash to keep her command in order. For now. “Go and get your ponies,” Twilight told the pegasus. “I’ll send somepony to track down Applejack. We’ll have everypony meet here in—” Twilight froze as her stomach produced an audible rumble. The mare flushed and cleared her throat. “—half an hour.” Which, hopefully, would give her sufficient time to finally grab some lunch… Twilight—reluctantly—shoved her to-go tray of an only half-eaten oatburger off to the side of her desk. She snagged one last hayfry to munch on before the tray was out of easy hoof-reach, casting the meal one final forlorn look before sighing and turning her focus to the four ponies who had just entered her office. Despite the fortress commander’s best efforts to gallop to the cafeteria and back, she’d been waylaid by Rarity and an issue which wouldn’t have been able to wait to be addressed. By the time everything had been sorted, Twilight hadn’t had time to sit down to a meal anymore and had been forced to take her food to-go if she wanted to get back to her office in time for the meeting with Rainbow’s witnesses. She’d eaten as much of her meal as she could on the way back up to her office, and had hoped to have at least a few more minutes inside alone to finish, but she’d returned to find all four ponies waiting for her at her door. Twilight vowed to buck whatever genius had come up with the ‘fifteen minutes prior’ rule right in their flank if she ever met them. Resigning herself to a cold remainder of her lunch by the time interviewing the witnesses was over with, Twilight surveyed the two new ponies standing in front of her desk. The first was a brilliant golden mare with a fiery orange mane and topaz eyes. The collar of her green flight barding was pinned with a lieutenant's bar. The mare was staring straight ahead—looking past Twilight—and standing at rapt attention. Her right hoof was still crossed over her chest in salute. Standing beside her was another pony also standing mid-salute. He was a powder blue stallion with a dark mane and emerald eyes that were similarly locked onto some nebulous point beyond the fortress’ commander. His flight suit had no metal rank pin on its collar. Instead, there was a silver arch embroidered on his sleeve. Captains Applejack and Rainbow Dash were standing off to the side, the latter looking considerably more apprehensive about this meeting than the former. Twilight spent a few more moments looking between the two alleged witnesses to the fight before finally returning their salute. “At ease.” Both ponies shifted slightly, but neither looked particularly ‘at ease’ with what was happening. “Lieutenant Spitfire. Airpony Soarin.” Her amethyst gaze darted to each pony in turn. “I’m told that the two of you saw how the fight in town started.” Twilight sat back in her seat and steepled her hooves. “Tell me what happened.” Lieutenant Spitfire spoke first. “Yes, ma’am! Soa—Airpony Soarin and I happened to be in the area at the time. We saw the whole thing. That stallion—the one who died? He threw the first kick.” Beside her, the light blue pegasus stallion nodded in agreement. When it became evident that nothing further was going to be offered by way of a statement from either pony, Twilight looked over at the earth pony in charge of the investigation. Applejack shook her head and frowned. “Ah’m gonna need more than that. Ah don’t suppose either o’you two saw why Sage Brush kicked that zebra mare? “Ah’m assumin’ that the stallion didn’t jus’ happen to come down with a case of ‘stupid’ and pick a fight with a buncha zebra marines because he was bored…” Twilight agreed that they’d need to understand the events leading up to the first kick to be thrown in order to truly be able to determine who ‘started’ the fight. She looked back to the pair, her eyes shifting between the mare and stallion in search of further elaboration on what they saw. She noticed Soarin’s eyes dart in the direction of his superior. “The lieutenant was the only one in a position to see what happened before the first kick,” he admitted, and then flushed before clearing his throat. “I only saw what happened after.” Spitfire winced slightly, also looking a little more uncomfortable now. “I…wasn’t watching what was going on outside before the kick. I was…distracted.” She shifted nervously on her hooves. “But I heard a lot of yelling. I heard the pony soldiers telling the zebras to watch where they were going, and that they weren’t welcome at that bar.” “How do you know it was the ponies who said that?” Applejack asked. “It could have been the zebras.” Spitfire shook her head. “I heard the zebras talking too; they speak Equestrian with a completely different accent. It was definitely the ponies telling the zebras to leave.” Applejack nodded, apparently satisfied with the lieutenant’s explanation for how she’d identified the speakers. “So there was yellin’ an’ then the stallion—Sage Brush—bucked at the zebra mare an’ so she bucked back and killed him?” “Not at first,” Soarin said. “That stripe got bucked in the face by his first kick, but she backed up and dodged the next two. She didn’t start swinging back until she and her buddies got boxed in by other ponies.” “It looked like the ponies wanted that fight,” Lieutenant Spitfire added. “They were all laughing and cheering. Until that green stallion dropped and didn’t get back up.” “Suddenly everypony was trying to break up the fight after that,” Soarin chimed back in. He glanced at Twilight and Applejack. “You two showed up about a minute later.” “An’ where were you two that y’all saw all of this?” Applejack asked. “Y’all weren’t there on the street. Leastways, Ah don’t recall seein’ either o’ya.” There was a pronounced pause from the two ponies now as they exchanged looks. “We were across the street,” Spitfire finally responded with a sigh, “...on the second floor. We saw it from the window.” Applejack raised an eyebrow. Rainbow Dash winced. Twilight frowned. She wasn’t familiar enough with Harmony to know where and what every building in the civilian quarter was, and she certainly hadn’t been concerned with the nature of the buildings surrounding the fight that morning. Not that it really mattered much, as far as she was concerned; as long as it was good enough for Applejack. Twilight was looking in the direction of the commander of her military police force once more. “So, captain? What do you think?” The orange earth pony stopped smirking in the direction of the pair of pegasi and looked at her commander. “Ah think Ah got a better idea o’what happened. Enough to confront the other ponies involved in the fight, at least. Ah'll see what their story is after mentioning some of the details these two here talked about. “Right now though, my workin’ theory is that it sounds like some drunk ponies didn’t like a buncha stripes comin’ down to drink at ‘their’ bar an’ got rowdy about it. Rowdier than they should have, certainly.” Twilight nodded. That was along the lines of her own thinking at the moment too. “If that zebra marine really did get hit first, and if she dodged multiple other kicks before finally hitting back…I’m inclined not to press charges against her regardless. At best it was self-defense; at worst an accident in a fight she didn’t want or start. “Either way, I don’t see a reason to make any kind of incident out of this with the zebras.” She received a provisional nod of agreement from Applejack. “I’ll have a message sent to Ambassador Zecora letting her know I’ll be dropping the matter. “Though I will still want to see your official findings on the matter, captain.” “Yes, ma’am,” Applejack said with a nod. Twilight looked back at the two pegasi standing in front of her desk. “Thank you both for coming forward with this. If we need anything further from you, I’ll let Captain Rainbow Dash know. “Dismissed.” Both fliers snapped back to attention and saluted before making a—very relieved—exit. Once the door closed behind them, Twilight heard Applejack sniggering, while the cerulean pegasus merely massaged her temple with a hoof. The purple unicorn frowned. “So, do either of you want to tell me what was across the street from the bar?” “The No-Tell Motel,” Rainbow Dash answered with a groan. Applejack provided some clarification when Twilight raised a brow. “Its actual name is: The Open Hooves Inn, but everypony calls it that,” she nodded in the pegasus captain’s direction, “on account of it havin’ somethin’ of a ‘reputation’.” Twilight sighed and rubbed the bridge of her muzzle with a hoof. “Fraternization. Great.” “I dealt with it,” Rainbow Dash insisted. “They're in different squadrons now; there’s no more chain-of-command issue.” “That only solves part of the issue!” Twilight said, sounding more than a little annoyed. “She’s an officer, he’s an enlisted pony; if they’re involved in a physical relationship—” “I promised them that coming forward wouldn’t hurt their careers!” Rainbow Dash interrupted. “They trusted me, and I won’t betray that trust. “We’re working on a solution.” Twilight managed to bite back a retort, but only barely. The unicorn acknowledged that she had, indeed, assured Rainbow that there wouldn’t be any official record of what the witnesses were doing at the time they saw the fight. To take any action now would mean going back on that assurance. She didn’t want to set a precedent among her officers that she couldn’t be trusted to keep her word. “Fine.” The word wasn’t uttered without a noticeable amount of strain. “They’re your ponies; I’ll let you handle them. But do handle them, captain.” She said with a stern look. Rainbow Dash nodded. The purple mare took a cleansing breath and let it out slowly. “Alright. So…Applejack can get back to her investigation and you’ll deal with the fraternization. I guess that concludes everything we needed to deal with right now. “You two are dismissed. Applejack, let me know when you’re ready to file your official report. I’ll try and talk with Ambassador Zecora after I’m done with my lunch.” Twilight cast a forlorn look at the certainly now quite cold remains of her meal. Both captains nodded and turned to leave. They were halfway to the door when it burst open and a frantic-looking Major Rarity rushed in. “Colonel! It’s the Dominance; they’re leaving!” Twilight was out of her seat, her lunch forgotten in the face of the sudden revelation. “What?!” The unicorn’s mind reeled with the news. Ambassador Zecora had assured her that the ship would remain at the fortress throughout the duration of the investigation. So either the Zebrican representative had lied, or Kapteni Trafalgar was making a run for it to protect his marines. The unicorn wasn’t sure she cared much for either explanation. She was on her hooves and cantering for the door a moment later. The rest of her officers were following close on her cannons. There wasn’t any point in heading for the docks, nothing that Harmony Fortress had access to in the way of ships would be able to catch the zebra cruiser. To say nothing of being able to do anything to stop it even if they did. Twilight had a fleeting thought of ordering Rainbow Dash to scramble one of her pegasi squadrons to intercept it, but… She didn’t foresee many scenarios where ponies trying to stop the zebras from leaving ended with anything but more casualties and only further exacerbated the situation. Besides, if what Spitfire and Soarin had told them about the fight bore out, then there wasn’t any reason to retain the zebra marines anyway. Their leaving wouldn’t create any real issue where criminal proceedings were concerned, other than not having the—apparent—victim of the Equestrian soldiers’ assault present to testify if they court-martialed the ponies for starting the fight that led to a death. None of that helped to alleviate the sense of betrayal that Twilight was feeling though. Zecora had promised! All four ponies poured out onto one of The Citadels lookouts. Rainbow Dash wasted no time in taking to the air, but the pegasus didn’t go far. Presumably, she’d reached some of the same conclusions that Twilight had regarding the myriad of—fatal—ways trying to intercept the cruiser could end. She still didn’t look happy about the ship leaving though, and glared at it fiercely. Twilight too wasn’t wearing a very happy expression on her face as she watched the zebra vessel moving through the water and start to turn… …Towards the fortress. The purple unicorn blinked in mild surprise as she tried to puzzle out what Trafalgar was doing. Because if he was leaving Harmony Fortress waters, then he was doing so in the least expeditious way possible. Twilight—very briefly—entertained the notion that the ship was preparing to engage in an attack of some sort, to the point that she almost ordered Applejack to go and round up a few of the batteries to ready some guns just in case. Then the cruiser initiated another turn, shifting course until it was steaming parallel with the fortress’ perimeter. “What in tarnation are they doin’?” Twilight wished she had an answer for the earth pony. However, she was just as confused by the cruiser’s actions. She supposed that they might be trying to go around the island to head in that direction…? But there certainly wouldn’t have been any reason to get as close as they had, if that was the case. All they were doing was increasing their risk of hitting some particularly shallow shoals. “I…I think I know,” Rainbow Dash said. She wasn’t glaring anymore. In fact, her eyes looked quite haunted. She raised a hoof towards the no-longer-quite-so-distant cruiser. “Forward mast; starboard yardarm.” Twilight followed the pegasus’ directions and focused her gaze on the ship. Her breath hitched in her throat. “Lan’ sakes…” Came Applejack’s breathless epithet as she caught sight of it too. Rarity merely placed a hoof over her mouth to stifle the gasp. “No…” Twilight heard the breathless word, but didn’t immediately recognize it as having come from herself. All four ponies stood in silence on the lookout, watching as the Dominance continued on its journey around the island fortress. They weren’t leaving, Twilight recognized. They were broadcasting a message. The zebras were giving Harmony’s inhabitants an opportunity to see that they had addressed the issue of an Equestrian dying at the hooves of a Zebrican: From the yardarm of the cruiser closest to the island, hung the body of a zebra mare wearing a crimson coat. Author's Note “Politics in pursuit of justice is no virtue.” As always, a thumbs up and comment are greatly appreciated If you like the cover art and want to see more stories get them, I've set up a Cover Art Fund if you're interested and have any bits lying around!
Chapter 6: There All the Honor LiesTwilight wrinkled her nose as the zebra soldiers which nominally guarded the levels of The Citadel’s abutting tower which the Zebrican government reserved for its use—and were thus legally ‘Zebrican soil’—didn’t try to stop the obviously furious purple unicorn as she stormed past them on her way to ‘talk’ with Ambassador Zecora. Her position as Harmony Fortress’ commander did not give Twilight free reign to wander through the embassies of sovereign nations. The soldiers standing guard over those levels would have been well aware of that fact. They should have confronted and stopped her, and only let her proceed if she had legitimate business with a member of the embassy’s staff. But they didn’t stop her. They merely nodded in acknowledgement of Twilight’s approach and stepped aside to let her pass. Which meant that those soldiers had been told that she would be coming here at around this time. And since even Twilight hadn’t known that she’d be stomping through the corridors of the Zebrican Embassy until she’d seen the zebra marine’s body hanging from the cruiser’s mast five minutes ago… Zecora had known what was going to happen to that mare. She had known how Twilight was going to react and given notice to the guards to allow her to pass. Which suggested that the ambassador also knew exactly how she was going to try and justify all of this to Twilight… The unicorn’s teeth were grinding by the time she finally reached Zecora’s door. The large stoic form of the ambassador’s assistant, Grevy, was standing placidly outside. Just as the soldiers at the embassy’s entrance had done, the stallion nodded wordlessly at the purple unicorn, not seeming the least bit perturbed by her obvious ire. He rapped his hoof three times on the door before opening it and stepping aside to allow Twilight to enter. The Zebrican ambassador was sitting in the same parlor in which she had entertained Twilight during their dinner following the unicorn’s arrival on the island. She also wasn’t alone. Seated across from her was Kapteni Trafalgar, calmly sipping at a cup of tea that he was holding in his hooves. He glanced up long enough to note the arrival of the unicorn before returning his attention back to his beverage. Twilight felt her right eye twitch when she noticed that a fresh cup of coffee was sitting on the part of the table which was nearest the parlor’s entrance. The presence of the cruiser’s captain further stoked Twilight’s ire. His apparent ambivalence in the face of what he’d done to one of his marines was enough to finally push the purple unicorn over the edge. “You bastard,” she outright snarled at the older stallion. “How could you?” Twilight’s rage-filled eyes darted to Zecora next. “Whose idea was it? “Actually, you know what? It doesn’t matter: You’re both monsters. Murderers,” the unicorn spat. Trafalgar’s lips twitched in irritation at Twilight’s labels, but he quickly tamped down on any retort that he might have wanted to offer after taking a moment to remind himself that Ambassador Zecora was present. He instead elected to occupy his lips with another sip of tea in an effort to further disabuse himself of the temptation to offer up a retort to the purple mare. Zecora, for her part, at least had the decency to put on a sympathetic expression and leave her own beverage untouched while in the furious unicorn’s presence. “It is easy to see how you would feel that way, Colonel Sparkle—” “Oh, spare me your vapid diplomatic schlock!” Twilight snapped back at the striped mare, electing to push aside the trappings of their respective roles and positions for the moment. Right now, the unicorn wasn’t particularly concerned with whether or not she offended the zebra official, and would welcome receiving word of any official complaints being filed with her superiors in Canterlot. Twilight would frame that letter of reprimand and display it with pride on her desk any time Zecora came to her office. “How else am I supposed to feel?!” the unicorn seethed. “What else would you call what you did, if not ‘murder’?” Twilight rounded on Trafalgar now, even though the stallion had yet to say anything. While the unicorn internally recognized that the ship captain was clearly subordinate to Zecora due to how the Zebrican government apparently worked, the excuse of ‘just following orders’ was not one that the mare would consider entertaining for even a heartbeat. “Did you even bother to talk to her first before you decided she was guilty? Or did you order her strung up the second she set her hoof on the ship?” Trafalgar put down his tea and met Twilight’s piercing gaze without flinching. “It was not a matter of ‘guilt’ or ‘innocence’; it was a matter of duty. Of honor.” The stallion’s words stunned the unicorn. “What do you mean it didn’t matter whether she was guilty or not?! Of course it matters! She didn’t have to die! What ‘honor’ could there possibly have been in killing her before you even knew if that mare had done anything wrong?” “There is no greater honor for a soldier, than to give their life in the preservation of peace.” Trafalgar’s own eyes had hardened now as he stared down the unicorn that was verbally accosting him. “At least, that is what we believe. Perhaps you ponies do not feel the same. If that is so, then it is no wonder your kind fared so poorly during the war.” He turned away from Twilight now, returning his attention to his drink once more. Twilight’s jaw worked in silence for several moments as the mare’s mind reeled in its attempt to reconcile the stallion’s words. She was trying to make sense of them, straining to make the connection between hanging the zebra marine and ‘preserving peace’. Zecora provided the elaboration that the unicorn needed. “This morning, a Zebrican soldier killed a pony,” the ambassador began in a tone that was probably not meant to sound condescending. However, with Twilight’s current high-running emotions, it was hard for her to not interpret it that way. “The peace between our races is still a fragile one—as you well know. The wounds of our war still run deep. “For word to get out that one of out soldiers could kill a pony and suffer no reproductions—” “She was innocent!” Twilight blurted. “There were witnesses who saw your marine getting attacked first—who saw her holding back until she was backed into a corner!” A sad smile touched the ambassador’s muzzle. Across from her, Trafalgar bowed his head in resignation. It was a brief thing though. A second later the stallion’s expression hardened once more. “So she said.” Twilight’s eyes once more snapped to the naval commander, narrowing with renewed ire. “So you actually did talk to her before hanging her. How gracious of you…” The unicorn’s words dripped with scorn that she made no effort to hide. “It is a cowardly officer who is not willing to look their soldiers in the eyes when he orders them to lay down their lives for the greater good,” Trafalgar quipped before looking away from Twilight and taking another sip of his tea. Twilight fumed, and was about to issue a retort when Zecora stepped in again to distract her away from the stallion. “The marine’s innocence was immaterial.” This statement earned a shocked look from the unicorn, but the ambassador had anticipated that much and immediately slipped into an explanation of her claim. “The rumors were already spreading throughout the island. Many creatures—ponies especially—had already reached their own conclusions about what had happened: that the marines had attacked the ponies without just cause. “Doubtlessly, letters would be going out on the next ships bound for Equestria making those same assertions. Your newspapers would publish articles about those assertions. The presumed series of events among ponies on Harmony would quickly become ‘fact’ among ponies in Equestria. Perhaps even the griffons and a few other races would embrace the narrative.” “But when the investigation is done and the final report is published—!” Twilight tried to protest. Zecora didn’t let the other mare finish. “—Few will bother to read it. And even fewer will care what it has to say. “When the herd makes up its mind about which direction to run, there is little that can be done to steer it.” The unicorn’s mouth closed on the remainder of her protest. A tightness was forming in her throat as she began to understand Zecora’s reasoning and motives. Mostly because she was feeling herself actually starting to acknowledge them. That she couldn’t immediately dismiss the ambassador’s rationale as being utterly ridiculous and without merit was making the unicorn profoundly uncomfortable. Her own mind ran through several possible ways that the general public back home might react once they received word about what happened this morning. It was indeed very likely that the version of events which reached Canterlot first would be the one currently working its way through the island right now. Between the time that the fight had broken out and the time that Rainbow Dash had brought forth her two witnesses, a couple of ships bound for Equestria had already left port. It could be many hours yet before Applejack would be able to wring confessions out of the Equestrian soldiers about how they’d provoked the marine. Another day or two, at least, before the official report could be properly drafted and finalized in accordance with the established proper protocols. It would be a legal document after all; such things could not appear rushed and needed all of the appropriate stamps and signatures if they were going to hold up under scrutiny. They were lucky that matters were likely going to be so straightforward in this instance. It meant that there was every likelihood that they would be able to send the report out with the next scheduled official courier departure… …In about a week’s time. More than enough time for dozens of cargo galleons, with their crews of hundreds of ponies apiece, to leave for every major Equestrian port and beat the official findings to the mainland by many days. Which might not seem like much of a head start, but then one had to factor in how long it would take that report to make its way through the proper channels in Canterlot before its findings would actually be cleared for release to the public. Even if things progressed as swiftly as the bureaucracy would allow for, it would take the better part of a month for Captain Applejack’s report to be released to the press. There wasn’t any way to predict whether the report would be widely publicized in the news sheets, or how deeply the report’s findings would be buried behind other, more recent and tantalizing, events. “This way,” Zecora went on, “we are no longer trying to compete with the currently spreading narrative. Instead, we are able to shape it. The residents of Harmony have now seen that the zebra who took the life of a pony was punished harshly for her crime, and that it was carried out swiftly by other zebras. “They will see that the Zebrican Conclave punished a killer. That we did not come to the island seeking violence.” “Except that there wasn’t a crime,” Twilight insisted, though not with nearly the fervor that she had earlier. “That mare was innocent.” “Your ponies would not have cared,” Trafalgar snorted. “You don’t know that.” “I know that I have heard many stories about how it was my marines who started the fight,” Trafalgar said cooly, “and none about how your ponies attacked first, as you just told us is the truth of the matter. “Why is it the lie which is being perpetuated, do you think…Stripe-Bane?” “Kapteni…” Zecora said with a hint of warning in her voice, narrowing her eyes at the older stallion. The cruiser’s captain immediately shut his mouth and bowed his head. He murmured something in their language which Twilight took for an apology and then went silent. The ambassador took a deep breath and returned her attention to the unicorn. “None of us are happy about what happened, Colonel Sparkle. Nor was this a decision that was come to lightly. In the end, Koplo Umoya understood what was being asked of her.” There was a brief pause from the Zebrican representative. She glanced in Trafalgar’s direction. “I am told that she faced her end with great dignity.” The stallion seated across from her gave a curt nod, but said nothing. Twilight swallowed back the bile in her throat as she imagined what those last moments must have been like for that marine: to know that she was going to be punished like that, even though she’d only been defending herself. The unicorn started shaking her head, refusing to accept that any of what Zecora was telling her was okay. “This wasn’t right…” “It was necessary,” Zecora insisted gently, “to keep the rift between pony and zebra from widening.” There was a pause. Then the ambassador cleared her throat and locked her gaze on Twilight. “But…it is not all that will be necessary.” The unicorn mare was frowning now. She could feel the dread mounting within her as she waited to hear what else was going to be required, on top of an innocent mare’s death. “The report on the findings of the investigation that you mentioned; the one which will reveal that it was your soldiers which attacked our marine without provocation…” Twilight felt her stomach tighten as Zecora spoke. She already had an idea of where this was going, and knew that she didn’t much care for it. “It would be…inconvenient if the report said such things. “If it did not reinforce that we zebras took the ‘appropriate actions’ under the circumstances—the initially reported circumstances, that is.” “You want me to lie.” Twilight stated far more bluntly. The unicorn found that she was quickly tiring of how politicians framed things. “To help cover up what actually happened.” “We are asking you to not undermine Kolpo Umoya’s sacrifice,” Trafalgar said soberly, not looking in the purple mare’s direction. “Please, colonel; let her death have what meaning it can,” asked Zecora. Twilight’s first impulse was to refuse on principle. It was bad enough that the narrative of the events that happened that morning were false…but to be asked not to refute it? To, in fact, perpetuate the lie that was being spread? To reinforce the rumors by lending them the legitimacy of an official report that agreed with it? And…for what? So that the zebras could avoid having a poor impression of them spread through Equestria? As though the perception of zebras by the average pony could really be lowered all that much further… She wanted to refuse. But, at the same time… Thanks to what Zecora and Trafalgar had done behind her back, publishing the truth in the investigation’s findings would probably only undermine things for her now. Creatures would ask—and rightly so—why, if it had been the dead stallion who’d started the fight, the zebra marine had been hanged for killing him. Misleading rumors were bad enough. Twilight didn’t even want to think about the headaches the fortress could end up facing if it was mired down by talk of conspiracy. “I’ll think about it.” The unicorn suppressed a wince as she heard herself lying now. She didn’t need to think about it; she’d already made up her mind about what she was going to do. What she had to ‘think about’ was how she was going to explain it to Captain Applejack. “Colonel, before Ah say anythin’ else, Ah need you to know that Ah say this with all due respect: “Have you spit your fuckin’ bit?!” All things considered, the freckle-faced mare was taking this better than Twilight had expected. Mostly because Applejack hadn’t bucked her desk in half. “You want me to falsify the report on a murder investigation?” Twilight stared down at the draft of the report—the currently true and accurate one—which the head of the fortress’ security forces had delivered to her this morning. Just as Applejack had predicted, the Equestrian soldiers involved in the fighting admitted to having started the fight with the zebras once they were informed witnesses had stepped forward with evidence refuting their earlier claims that they’d been the victims. They acknowledged that Private Sage Brush threw the first few kicks, and that the marine he’d been attacking had tried to back away before being boxed in by the crowd. The report sitting on her desk completely exonerated the young marine… …And it didn’t matter anymore. The purple unicorn took a breath and let it out slowly. “I need you to write up a report that chronicles the events which happened yesterday,” she carefully clarified to the earth pony. “That a fight broke out, a pony was killed, and the zebras hanged one of their marines for it. “All of which are factual statements,” Twilight offered, wondering if those words sounded just as hollow to Applejack as they had to her own ears. “I’m not telling you to lie; I’m just telling you not to be as detailed with your conclusions in the final report as you might usually be.” “A lie of omission then,” Applejack spat with no small amount of contempt. Twilight could only nod. “So that the zebras get t’pat themselves on the withers for executin’ an innocent mare.” “I’m not going to defend what they did. But, at this point, publishing findings that conflict with their actions is just going to cause more problems.” This prompted a skeptical brow being raised by the earth pony. Twilight laid her hoof gently on the report in front of her and regarded the senior security officer. “Based on your findings in this report, I assume that actual charges are being recommended for the other ponies involved—and not just simple reprimands? Since they actively participated in escalating a fight that led to a death—to say nothing about lying to you and me about what happened?” “That’s right.” Applejack hedged, correctly sensing that Twilight was going to somehow find an issue with that course of action. The unicorn nodded. “And when their advocate points out to the judge that the zebras already convicted and hanged somezebra for the crime that they’re being charged with?” The earth pony was already scowling as she finally saw where Twilight was going with her reasoning. “That’s more than enough ‘reasonable doubt’ to preclude any possible conviction. To say nothing about the questions that even taking this to trial is going to raise! “Best case—from our perspective—is that we make the zebras look incompetent or irrational for bungling the investigation so badly that they came to the exact wrong conclusion and killed a mare for no reason.” Twilight’s words dripped with resignation. “Worst case: We look like the irrational ones for ‘coercing’ ponies into confessing to a crime that somezebra else was already convicted of committing!” Twilight shook her head, letting out a resigned sigh. “Publishing this…it’s just going to hurt us, one way or the other. I’m sorry, captain.” For her part, Applejack was looking like she’d just bitten into something sour. She wasn’t quite ready to give up her position though. “Beggin’ yer pardon, colonel; but mah job ain’t to cover shit up fer politicians.” “You’re right,” Twilight conceded, “that’s my job.” In light of recent events, the unicorn wasn’t entirely sure how sarcastic that statement actually was. “Your job is to lead your ponies and submit reports for me to review before accepting them.” She took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “...And I’m not accepting this one.” Even as she spoke, the unicorn took the offered draft on her desk and filed it away in one of the drawers. The action earned her a raised brow from the orange mare. “I’ll obviously want to retain this draft for the sake of thorough record-keeping,” Twilight said, offering the other pony a small smile which didn’t endure for very long on her muzzle, “but I’m going to need you to write up a new one which contains the minor corrections that I’ve suggested before I can forward it to Canterlot.” The scowl threatened to invade Applejack’s lips again, but the mare managed to whittle the expression down to a deep frown. “If Ah make those changes, then those ponies’ CO won’t even be able to reprimand them fer what happened. “You know that, right?” That was an aspect of all of this which Twilight suspected she and Applejack were also equally unhappy about: they couldn’t reasonably punish the other ponies involved in the fighting; since the ‘official narrative’ was going to be that the zebras started everything. Sage Brush and the ponies with them were now ‘victims’. You couldn’t reprimand victims. Not officially, anyway. “I’m going to have Major Rarity reach out to their CO and get them to—very insistently—urge the other ponies who were with Sage Brush to put in for transfers back to the mainland.” Twilight’s horn lit up and pulled several sheets of paper out of another drawer of her desk and pushed them towards the earth pony. “If they don’t feel like transferring, these are some of the frequently violated regulations which are supposed to earn reprimands and write-ups. They tend to get overlooked because, well, some of them are pretty silly, to be honest.” Twilight admitted with a bitter look of her own. It caused the mare some minor discomfort to admit that much. After all, rules were meant to be followed and enforced because they existed for a reason. Nopony just arbitrarily made up a list of things ponies weren’t allowed to do simply because it amused them, after all. Which wasn’t to say that some of the rules imposed in the Equestrian Army didn’t come off as being…less-than-thoroughly-thought-out, Twilight conceded. Why couldn’t a soldier use an umbrella while it was raining? Captain Applejack took the offered list of obscure regulations that Twilight had compiled and started to look them over. She snorted and shook her head. “Shoot, Ah might have to write myself up on one’r two o’ these! ‘EAR one hundred dash twelve, chapter seven, paragraph three: Eatin’r drinkin’ of any kind must be performed while seated only’. “Ah can’t enjoy a cup’o cider while standin’ up?!” “Not according to regulations,” Twilight confirmed with a shrug. The earth pony clicked her tongue and continued to look through the list. “I know it’s not what you wanted,” the unicorn continued with a much sadder smile now. “It’s not ‘justice’; not really.” Twilight sighed. “Honestly, getting them off the island feels a little bit like I’m just trying to sweep the last few reminders of all of this under the rug…” “Ah’d be lyin’ if Ah said Ah felt different,” Applejack quipped, tucking the papers into her vest. The purple mare nodded. “I would have preferred this to go differently too, captain. Unfortunately, the zebras tore the stitching out of our feed bag, and now we’re left with…this,” the mare gestured vaguely around the office. “And ‘this’ isn’t much. “I understand why Zecora and Trafalgar did what they did—I understand! I didn’t say that I agreed with it!” Twilight affirmed quickly upon seeing the other mare take a deep breath which doubtlessly was about to lead into a vehement berating. Applejack bit down on her retort, but still didn’t look happy. “I understand,” Twilight tried again, “but it sure made things damned inconvenient. To say the least.” “Understatement of the millennium, that.” “Right. If there’s nothing else, captain, you’re dismissed to go and write that report. If it’s possible, I’d like it by the end of the day so that I can review it.” Applejack couldn’t hold back her biting retort this time. “Should Ah send Ambassador Zecora a copy for her to review too? Since we’re lettin’ the stripes dictate how we conduct business on our island—” “Captain.” The word hadn’t been spoken with any particular harshness. Twilight understood the security mare’s frustration, and even shared it. So she was willing to give Applejack a little leeway when it came to expressing herself in a way which might otherwise have trotted right up to the line of ‘insubordination’. Just a little though. The military police commander’s mouth closed down tight against the rest of her cutting remarks. She cleared her throat and snapped to attention, her emerald eyes locked onto a point of the wall which lay just over Twilight’s shoulder. The unicorn closed her eyes and took a few seconds to ensure that she was also as calm as possible before speaking. She sympathized with the earth pony, and even acknowledged that Applejack had every right to be upset. But, at the end of the day, they were both officers and they needed to conduct themselves accordingly. Even when there weren’t any prying enlisted eyes. “Just a copy for myself will be fine, captain. Dismissed.” Applejack nodded and rendered a crisp salute with her hoof snapping across the breast of her gray vest. Twilight returned the salute. The earth pony turned and started heading for the door. “Applejack?” The orange mare paused, but didn’t look back. “For what it’s worth; I do value your integrity. I’m sorry the truth has to take a backseat this time.” “...And Ah’m sorry y’think it ever has to,” the earth pony said before leaving the office. The silence which persisted in Twilight’s office once she was alone again was deafening. The purple unicorn closed her eyes for several long moments. When she opened her eyes again, they invariably fell upon the medal propped up on the corner of her desk. It was usually the first thing that she noticed whenever she was sitting there—by design. She intended it to serve as a reminder, and it certainly fulfilled that purpose. The problem was that, some days, Twilight had trouble remembering exactly what it was that she was supposed to be reminded of. This had been one of those days, unfortunately. “So am I,” she whispered to nopony in particular. Twilight leaned on the railing of one of The Citadel’s lookouts staring out over the fortress. Despite her best efforts, her eyes kept wandering over to the zebra cruiser. The unicorn supposed that she could have gone to one of the other lookout posts that faced another direction. She could have…but she hadn’t. The Dominance was anchored back at its original position. It had executed five laps of the island yesterday before returning to its mooring and taking the corpse down from its mast. Cutters had resumed ferrying crew and supplies back and forth between the cruiser and the docks at a steady rate. Twilight and Rarity had made a few revisions to the suggested list of areas that the zebras should avoid. They simultaneously informed the Equestrian soldiers on the island that they were likewise restricted to those same areas when off duty for the remainder of the cruiser’s time in proximity to Harmony. The hope was that keeping the two groups of soldiers away from each other would preclude further violence. The mare let out a bitter laugh at the thought of racial segregation being necessary to keep the peace…on an island named ‘Harmony’, where the stated goal had been to foster an atmosphere of unity between the races. “Dear Chancellor Fancy Pants,” Twilight muttered under her breath as her hoof pantomimed a quills’ strokes across an imaginary scroll, “my mission has been a complete and utter failure…” The mare let out a defeated sigh and bowed her head into her hooves. “Curious…you didn’t strike me as the type to give up so soon.” Twilight jerked and whirled around upon hearing the sound of somepony speaking nearby. She was certain that she’d been alone on the lookout platform. Years of conditioning saw the unicorn dropping into a combat stance and setting her horn aglow with a readied spell before she was even aware that she’d done anything, ready to fend off the attack— —Only for Twilight to find herself looking at a brilliantly white alicorn that stood more than twice her height. “Ambassador Celestia!” The smaller mare immediately doused her spell and straightened up, flushing slightly at how readily she’d dropped into old habits. “W-what are you doing here? Is there something I can help you with?” The towering alicorn shook her head and stepped over to the railing beside the unicorn. “No, colonel; I don’t need any help. I’m just here to enjoy the view.” “Oh. Of course, ambassador.” Twilight’s gaze darted away from the taller mare to glance further up the island’s central spire, her amethyst eyes finally landing on the mooring tower at its peak…and the airship that was moored there. Ambassador Celestia’s airship. Where only the alicorn was permitted to go. A place which the unicorn believed would have offered an objectively better view of the island and its surroundings than any of The Citadel’s other lookout platforms. Twilight very diplomatically didn't roll her eyes at the alicorn's obvious lie. The unicorn was in no mood to play whatever political games the diplomat was here for. She turned to leave, but drew up short when Celestia spoke again. “Would you stay a while, colonel? Unless you have somewhere to be?” Several seconds passed as Twilight considered the possible answers that she could give. All of them would have been lies though. In her opinion, she'd done more than enough lying for one day already. “No, ambassador; I can stay for a little bit,” Twilight finally admitted, turning back to the railing, and the view beyond. “Personally,” Celestia began, “I think it’s unfair to rate something—or someone,” she added with a small smile directed at the unicorn, “as a ‘failure’ just because they didn’t immediately achieve success. Especially when the goal that’s been set is such a lofty one. “Surely you didn’t expect to achieve world peace in your first week?” “No, ambassador,” Twilight acknowledged with a mirthless snort, “I didn’t think I’d get everycreature working together in a week. I’m not a ‘failure’ for that. “It’s the backsliding that bothers me.” Upon seeing the raised brow from the alicorn, Twilight elaborated. “The war between ponies and zebras has been over for ten years—our races are at peace! And yet…our soldiers are still killing each other,” the unicorn lamented. “If all it takes is a little cider for our soldiers to start fighting and killing each other again…then how long is that peace really going to last?” Twilight shuddered as she calculated out a few likely estimates. She didn't much care for them; even the ones where she'd allowed for the most favorable of variables. “The griffons and the dragons were at peace for longer than ponies and zebras; but now…” The unicorn’s mind turned back towards the first Council session that she’d attended, and the revelation that the dragons had effectively annexed a Republic island. Of course, Ambassador Ember hadn’t used that sort of definitive language. Thus far, the dragon representative was sticking to the narrative that they were just holding the island ‘in trust’ while its former griffon inhabitants were away. Meanwhile, more dragons were being moved onto the island, and not all of them were soldiers. Civilians were relocating to Ragnar now as well. "Experts and artisans," Ember had announced when pressed on the matter; there to ensure the gem mines remained in perfect operating condition. Plus their families, as there was no telling how long those experts would be needed on the island. A few shopkeepers and merchants too, so that those families could buy what they needed to be comfortable. Tradesdragons were thus also necessary, to make wares for those shopkeepers to sell. And the families for those shopkeepers and tradesdragons, naturally. In spite of Ambassador Ember’s assurances otherwise, Twilight didn’t believe that the dragons would actually leave the island once the griffons finished their ‘military action’ against the kirin and returned to Ragnar. They’d dare the Republic to try and take it from them again. And if the Republic tried… “Hmm.” Celestia gave an acknowledging nod, turning her own eyes towards the anchored cruiser. The alicorn was silent for a while. Then, “What is ‘peace’ to you, colonel?” The little purple pony hadn’t been prepared for the question, and so she initially fumbled for an answer. “I-I, um…it’s when two races aren’t fighting, ambassador?” Twilight winced slightly as she heard the questioning tone of her answer. Judging from the expression on Celestia's face, she suspected that she hadn't given the answer the taller mare had been looking for, but she wasn’t sure how far off the mark she’d ended up. “Is it?” There was nothing mocking about the alicorn’s tone. In fact, the larger mare did a masterful job of sounding genuinely intrigued by the unicorn’s response. “So it’s exactly like an armistice then? Or a truce?” Twilight felt herself flush. “No, of course not; it’s very different. Those two things are temporary agreements. Peace is more permanent.” “Ah. So the griffons and dragons were never at peace then?” The alicorn paused and considered for a moment. “If, a thousand years from now, ponies and zebras end up going to war once more, then will that mean that your two races were never at peace after all either? “Your races each refer to the Treaty of Los Palomino as being a ‘peace agreement’. If war does break out again someday, will historians start referring to the interwar period as a truce?” Twilight was frowning at the alicorn now. “You’re getting hung up on the semantics of the words, I think.” “My apologies then. Would you care to explain what makes 'peace' meaningfully different from a 'truce'?” Once more, nothing in Celestia’s tone suggested that the alicorn was trying to be patronizing. Her request came across as being genuinely earnest. “Well, with a peace agreement, the two parties try to bring themselves closer together so that a war doesn’t break out between them again.” “Oh, I see! That makes sense.” The alicorn paused and considered for a moment. “So ponies and zebras aren’t at peace, then?” Twilight balked, blinking in confusion at the ivory mare. “W-what? Of course we are!” Celestia looked confused now too, cocking her head. “Oh? What have your two races done to try and bring yourselves closer together?” Twilight’s mouth started to move…but no words were immediately forthcoming. The little unicorn had anticipated having a clear example of how ponies and zebras were fostering their relationship since the end of the war. However, the more that she trawled her brain looking for answers, the more disheartened she felt herself becoming as she failed to come up with any. “We’ve…” She desperately ventured, hoping that perhaps something would come to her in the moment…but it didn’t. Instead, the mare was left desperately hanging onto the end of that single word until she was finally forced to concede failure. Her whole body seemed to deflate as she let out a resigned sigh. “...mostly just stayed away from each other,” the unicorn was finally forced to concede. “That doesn’t sound like a very effective way to bring your races together.” “No. Obviously it isn’t,” Twilight admitted with a grimace, her gaze once more wandering back out to the zebra cruiser. “On the other hoof, we also just saw what happens when ponies and zebras don’t stay away from each other,” she pointed out, adding a rueful snort. “Maybe you were right about that treaty being an armistice after all…” “For what it’s worth, I certainly hope not,” the alicorn offered, managing to muster up an encouraging smile for the smaller mare beside her. There was a long pause, then, “What happens when you put cats and dogs together?” The unicorn frowned, looking up at the taller ambassador. Her response was understandably hesitant, given the conversational non sequitur. “...They fight? I mean, that’s the stereotype anyway: that cats and dogs inherently don’t get along.” “But that’s not always the case.” “Well, no, of course not. Plenty of dogs and cats get along with each other. Especially if they grew up together or were introduced to each other in the right way,” Twilight explained, still not quite understanding why the alicorn had an interest in the social interactions of common pets. Celestia nodded. “So bitter rivals can be made to get along, provided they are properly supervised while initially interacting,” the ivory mare concluded. The unicorn sighed, finally seeing where the ambassador was going with the conversation now. “So you’re saying that things might have gone better if I’d assigned trusted ponies to supervise the zebra marines and sailors? I’m not sure Trafalgar would have liked the idea of us keeping an eye on his zebras,” Twilight said, frowning slightly at her recollection of the older stallion’s demeanor at the docks when they’d first met. “He didn’t even like it when I suggested he keep his zebras away from genuinely dangerous construction zones…” “If I’ve learned anything from my many years as an ambassador, it’s that you can get somecreature to agree to a lot they normally wouldn’t, provided you frame it in just the right way.” Celestia smiled knowingly at the smaller mare. “Offering for some of your ponies to provide ‘concierge services’ might have been well-received. Perhaps reaching out to some of the bars directly to organize dedicated receptions to welcome the zebra crews, offering them food and drinks from their homeland? “I’m sure that the Zebrican Embassy’s staff would have been happy to help organize such events if you’d asked them to.” Twilight winced. What the alicorn was suggesting would have been very good ideas, the fortress’ commander realized. She’d thought that she’d been going ‘above and beyond’ by putting together the guide to help orient them to the island—because the unicorn knew that she’d have welcomed such information when enjoying her own leave. However, those times had all involved her and other ponies taking leave in predominantly pony areas. She’d never really spent time off duty in a truly ‘foreign’ location. Thinking on it now, the mare decided that she would have liked to be provided with a local ‘guide’ if she were ever on leave outside of Equestria or its territories. But she hadn’t thought to do so with the zebras while they were here. Because they were zebras and her staff were ponies, and ponies and zebras didn’t do things together; they stayed out of each other's way. That was just how things were. Sort of like how cats and dogs fought. It was just how things were… …But, as Ambassador Celestia had pointed out, that didn’t always have to be the case. Cats and dogs could get along, provided they were properly guided. It wasn’t a stretch to think that the same couldn’t also work for ponies and zebras. The big question was: “Where do I even begin though?” “While I don’t have a military background myself,” said Celestia with another of her coy little smiles, “it is my understanding that there is something which holds true for military and political circles alike: ‘leading by example’. “Show ponies and zebras that the two of you can get along as friends by being friends with them yourself.” Twilight was frowning again. “...I don’t think I’m going to be on ‘friendly’ terms with any zebras any time soon. Not after what Zecora and Trafalgar did.” Her frown sank further into a grimace. “Or how I reacted to it.” Ambassador Celestia nodded sympathetically. “It can be difficult to get along with others when they make choices we don’t agree with.” “It’s not just about me ‘not agreeing’ with what those two did!” The purple unicorn shot back, glaring at the other mare now. “They took a life! Am I really supposed to be okay with that?” “I don’t recall suggesting that you had to be,” the alicorn countered in a calm tone. “You can be upset by the actions of others. “What I am suggesting, however, is that others making decisions that we see as being ‘wrong’ does not have to preclude us from seeking understanding,” Celestia went on. “Through that, it can be possible to still achieve amicable relations. Maybe even a firm friendship. “Eventually, you could even influence them into making better decisions down the road.” “They killed a mare,” Twilight said through gritted teeth. “If they need me to show them a better way to do things that doesn’t involve stringing creatures up by their necks—!” “You killed a town.” Celestia’s tone remained completely neutral as she spoke. The purple mare blanched, noticeably growing several shades paler in response to the ambassador’s words. Her mind reeled. Twilight remembered the sight of the zebra brigade marching up the road. She recalled seeing the column of striped soldiers encircling the town, preparing to lay their siege. She could still see the blue-uniformed ponies in the town, taking up defensive positions to repel the assault. They knew what they had volunteered for. Twilight hadn’t looked away when she’d cast the spell—she’d owed them that much, at least. It was over an hour before she could see clearly again. Longer still for her to run out of tears to shed. “I did my duty.” The hollow-sounding reply was out of her mouth before she was even aware that she’d uttered them. It had been a nearly instinctive reaction, as those were the words she always silently told herself any time her thoughts wandered back to that fateful day in White Tail. Celestia nodded. Her deep purple eyes bore into Twilight’s own. There wasn’t any judgment in the alicorn’s gaze; only pity…and a deep sadness. “I know that your government agrees with that.” Twilight’s mind immediately flashed to the memory of being awarded the medal that now sat on her desk not far from where the two mares were presently standing. “Indeed, many ponies do, I suspect. “But not all of them. There are ponies who don’t agree with what you did.” Twilight felt herself swallowing hard at the alicorn’s words. The alicorn took a deep breath and let it out slowly. She wasn’t looking at Twilight anymore. Instead, the towering mare was staring out across the sea beyond Harmony Fortress, out at the Moonfall Archipelago which lay over the horizon. “No creature is perfect. Thus it follows that, occasionally, we make imperfect decisions. Others will judge us for those decisions. “And rightly so,” the alicorn conceded, bowing her head. When she raised it, she was regarding Twilight once more. “But…if those decisions—even those made in error—were not born of a place of maliciousness…then surely we are worthy of compassion from our peers? Surely we can be offered forgiveness, and counsel for the future, so that we can improve—so that we can avoid repeating such mistakes in the future. “Otherwise—if creatures should be forever shunned for making a single poor decision—what is the point of any of this?” One of the alicorn’s wings flicked out, taking in all of Harmony. “Let us all be forever damned to Tartarus for our errors; without recourse, and without hope.” Twilight idly rubbed one leg with the other as she chewed on her lip, mulling over the alicorn’s words. She didn’t think of Ambassador Zecora or Kapteni Trafalgar as being ‘bad zebras’. They had simply made an extreme choice which had had profound consequences—for one mare in particular. They could have all worked together to find a better solution. Of course, that would have required Ambassador Zecora to first recognize that Twilight was somepony she could reach out to for help with things like that, and the unicorn wasn’t sure if the two of them were quite at the point in their professional relationship where that was a thing. After all, it wasn’t like Twilight had thought to reach out to the ambassador for help integrating the zebras during their shore leave… “I understand what you’re saying, Ambassador Celestia,” the little purple mare said, “and I guess I agree, for the most part. I don’t agree with what they did; but I do think that they were trying to ‘help’. “I’m just…I don’t know how I’m supposed to bridge the divide here,” Twilight admitted. “I believe I already pointed out that you could try to become friends with the zebra ambassador, despite your differences of opinion.” “But that’s just it: I don’t have a lot of experience making ‘friends’—even among ponies,” Twilight said with a sigh. “There…wasn’t a lot of time for that during the war; and what few friends I had before then—” Moondancer’s body dropped to the ground like a puppet shoes strings had been cut— “...I don't have most of them now. “I sort of threw myself into my work after that,” the smaller mare soberly admitted. “I assume that making friends as a grown pony isn’t quite like it is when you’re a filly and all it takes is swapping snacks during lunch period at school?” Celestia managed a small chuckle. “You’d be surprised, I think. But I take your meaning; it can be hard to reach out, especially if you’ve been hurt in the past. “To that end, I’m willing to help you. If you would like?” “After the week I’ve had, I’ll gladly take any help that I can get, ambassador—with anything!” Twilight offered a mirthless chuckle. Between the mounting tensions with the griffons and dragons, and this latest incident with the zebras, Twilight was feeling no small amount of stress. Being offered some counsel from a more experienced creature felt it had already relieved some of that emotional burden. “Very well then; I’ll send you a message in the near future when I’m ready to begin our first lesson.” Celestia informed the unicorn, smiling at the smaller mare warmly. “In the meantime, I have a prior engagement to get to. “We’ll speak again, Colonel Sparkle,” the alicorn issued a slight bow of her head towards the purple pony and made her way back inside The Citadel. Twilight mirrored the respectful bow. “I look forward to it, ambassador.” Then the unicorn was alone on the lookout. Her gaze invariably returned to the zebra cruiser anchored off the shore. She thought over what Ambassador Celestia had said: about how Twilight might have been able to do more to mitigate the chance of something going wrong while the ship’s crew was visiting. In hindsight, that was obviously true. Of course, the unicorn hadn’t been able to see it at the time. In her mind, their two races were at peace; the war was long over. That meant that there shouldn’t have been any issues. That wasn’t how creatures worked though, it turned out—be they pony or zebra. The zebras were still ‘stripes’ to a lot of ponies. She was still ‘Stripe-Bane’ to a lot of zebras. The treaty between their races hadn’t done anything to mend the scars left by their war—not really. And why should it have? How did a few words and signatures on a piece of paper do anything at all to make up for all that had been lost during the war? Had anycreature even apologized for any of it? Not to Twilight’s knowledge. Equestria certainly hadn’t offered any kind of apology or reparations—and why should they have? The zebras had been the aggressors during the war! Of course, the zebras hadn’t said much since ceasing hostilities either. They’d offered a bare-bones peace settlement that asked for basically no concessions from Equestria at all and the ponies had jumped on it without a second thought. Those invading armies had left just about as quickly as they’d arrived, and that had been the end of it. At least, where the war itself had been concerned. Obviously things weren’t ‘over’ in the eyes of the common pony soldier. Absolutely nothing had been done to mend that rift. By anycreature. …What have your two races done to try and bring yourselves closer together? Ambassador Celestia’s words rang loudly in the unicorn’s ears. “Not nearly enough,” Twilight sighed under her breath. “But it’s long past time we started doing something…” Author's Note Peace can't be enforced by a piece of paper. As always, a thumbs up and comment are greatly appreciated If you like the cover art and want to see more stories get them, I've set up a Cover Art Fund if you're interested and have any bits lying around!
Chapter 7: A Day in the Strife“Spike! Have we heard back from the kittens yet?” The smaller purple dragon’s face screwed up into a look of momentary confusion. Then comprehension dawned on him and he started to shuffle through the stack of parchment that he was holding in his claws. “You mean the kirin, ambassador? Um…yes! Here we go…” He fished a recently received missive from the pile and very briefly looked it over to refresh his mind regarding its contents before offering it up to the Dragon Lands representative. “They’re asking for more powder for their artillery. Apparently the griffons managed to burn down a coastal town where a lot of their powder mills were located.” Spike summarized as Ambassador Ember took the offered letter from him. The cobalt dragoness barely even glanced at the contents of the scroll before tossing it away with a disgusted snort. “Why the fuck did they have their powder mills someplace that was so vulnerable to attack?!” She all but snarled. “Did they think the griffons wouldn’t try to blow them up?!” Spike hastily grabbed the returned letter before shuffling through a few more sheets to look for a relevant intelligence report. “Um…I believe the town in question was also one of the kirins’ main naval ports. They wanted the powder mills close to the docks so that they didn’t have to transport it super long distances,” the smaller dragon explained, oblivious to the fact that his superior wasn’t even paying attention to him anymore. “Kirin manufacturing techniques aren’t as sophisticated as some others, and so their powder is prone to separating during transport. “Factor in that they’re…well, kirin, and they keep their powder mills close to where they’re needed to minimize the likelihood of ‘accidents’ that might cause explos—” “Whatever! Fuck, geez, I didn’t ask for a whole damn lecture,” Ember growled, waving Spike away with a dismissive gesture. “Arrange for them to get some powder. I think there’s still some pretty big stockpiles on Ragnar Island, right?” “Yes,” Spike confirmed, shuffling to a different sheet of parchment. “The griffon miners needed it for blasting—” “Well we don’t need it for blasting,” Ember cut in once again, flexing her talons to emphasize her point. “Send it all to the kirin.” The smaller purple dragon took up a quill and started making some notes. “Yes, ambassador.” There was a brief pause. He glanced over the top of the parchment towards the dragoness, worrying at his lip. “Um…what about payment? Kirin coins aren’t worth as much as they were a year ago, what with the griffons and their ‘special operation’—” “War, Spike,” Ember cut her assistant off with a snarl. “Fuck what the griffons are calling it; it’s a war.” She took another breath and once more waved her clawed hand at the dragon. “And give them whatever discount they can afford.” Spike blinked in mild surprise. “Really? That’s awfully generous of you, ambas—” “It’s not like it cost us anything,” Ember said with a chuckle. “It’s all griffon powder! Any amount the kirin can pay is basically free money!” She pointed out. “Oh. Right…” “And besides: the satisfaction of knowing that the griffon fleets are going to get torn up with artillery propelled by their own damn powder is priceless!” Ember wore a toothy grin now. She tapped a claw against her chin, thinking. “I wonder if I should send Gilda a ‘thank you’ note…” “Something tells me she wouldn’t read it even if you did,” Spike quipped. “Eh, you’re probably right.” Ember shrugged dismissively before walking over to the corner of the room and collapsing down onto a small pile of gold and silver coins that served as her bedding in the luxurious ambassadorial apartment. While the representative of the Dragon Lands on Harmony had a proper embassy and staff, she rarely availed herself of them unless it was for an official function. She preferred receiving her briefings from her assistant in her personal quarters, where she could lounge around more comfortably. “So, what else is on the docket?” Spike shuffled the pages in his claws again. “Um…you have a meeting with the diamond dogs. They want to discuss those gem import negotiations that—” “Cancel it.” “Wait, what?” “Cancel the meeting,” Ember reiterated with a mildly annoyed scowl directed at her assistant. “Now that we have Ragnar Island and its mine again, we don’t need those gems from the dogs.” The dragoness picked up a ruby from among the modest pile of precious metal and stones that she was laying on and tossed it into her mouth, crunching down on it loudly. “Tell them to go try the griffons. They’ll probably be experiencing a supply shortage soon,” she sniggered through a mouthful of crushed crimson gemstone. Spike frowned but made the note as he’d been directed to. He was pretty sure that Ambassador Rover wasn’t going to like this news very much. The diamond dogs had been quite excited at the prospect of opening up new trade opportunities. “I’ll let them know.” He flipped to another sheet. “Marshall Garble is hoping to get a meeting with you. He says that he has concerns about our defenses if the griffons get more aggressive but Dragon Lord Torch isn’t taking him seriously. He’s hoping you’ll speak to your father about—” “If Dad’s not worried, then neither am I,” Ember said, once more flicking her talons in Spike’s direction, waving away the concern. “The griffon’s aren’t as tough as the younger generation thinks they are,” the dragoness insisted. “Just look at how easily we took back Ragnar Island!” Spike was frowning now. “Yeah, but it was, like, barely even defended—” “Maybe the griffons used to be these big, bad, scary-powerful cat-birds once upon a time,” the dragoness’ words might have suggested that she was offering a concession, but the derisiveness of her tone hinted at nothing of the sort. She held only contempt for the griffons. “But that was then; this is now. And ‘now’ the griffons are on the decline. “They’re losing holdings all over the globe,” Ember continued. “Their empire’s crumbling around them bit by bit. Now’s not the time to be cowering in our caves,” she spat. “This is our chance to reclaim everything that was ours before those fucking things showed up on our islands!” A toothy grin spread across the dragoness’ muzzle as a new thought occurred to her. “...Maybe we can even add some new territory while we’re at it. “Tell Garble to fuck off back to the Dragon Lands and get his forces ready for more offenses to reclaim the rest of the Scaly Island Chain.” “...Yes, Ambassador Ember,” Spike said, making a reluctant note on the parchment. The smaller purple dragon performed one final review of all of the documents that he was clutching in his claws before finally sighing. “That’s the last of the new business for this morning, ambassador. “Is there anything else you’d like me to take care of while I’m out?” “Hmm…Actually, yes: get some maps with our latest intel on where the griffons have their fleets based. Let’s see where we might be able to snipe some of their holdings without them being able to respond fast enough to do anything about it.” Ember’s snout spread into a wide grin, showing off her glistening fangs. “It’s time us dragons showed the griffons their proper place: groveling at our claws…” “—Groveling at our paws!” Gilda snarled as she paced back and forth behind her desk in her ambassadorial office. “That’s where the dragons should still be! Along with those fucking kirin! “Speaking of which…” The golden-haired griffon whirled around and reared up, bringing her talons down hard on the heavy oak desk. “Why haven’t we crushed them yet?!” She roared at the other griffon in the room. “They can’t fly and they barely have a fleet worth mentioning; those tree-horned horses should have been crushed under our talons weeks ago! “What’s the hold-up?” The smaller gray-toned griffon hen sitting on the other side of the desk winced, shying away slightly from the irate Republic representative. “W-well you see, ambassador, the kirin are getting a lot of support from some of the other nations—” “Who?!” Gilda demanded. “Oh! Um, well, let me see…” Gabby fished out the appropriate sheet of paper from the folder she was holding and started to read off the rather extensive list. “The donkeys, the minotaurs, the horses, hippogriffs—” The other griffon’s eyes flared wide as she heard her assistant list off just about every other minor race in the general vicinity of the kirin’s homeland. “Why are they all getting involved?! Don’t they realize what they’re risking? Getting involved in a war on the side of our enemy?” Gabby cringed, briefly weighing the merits of her next words before deciding that she wouldn’t get into too much trouble by speaking them aloud. “...Technically we’re not at ‘war’ with the kirin,” she felt compelled to point out. “We told everycreature that this was about ‘curbing raiding activity from kirin splinter factions—’” “Yeah? And?!” The smaller gray hen hesitated for a brief moment longer. “Well…they’re all sending that aid to the internationally recognized government of the kirin nation.” Gabby gave a helpless shrug. “We can’t exactly claim that their whole government is a ‘splinter faction’...” “Says who?” Gilda snapped back. The griffon ambassador held up a hand and started ticking off her talons as she recited a plan of action, “Find some kirin whose allegiance we can buy that has any kind of worthwhile political pull in Kirea. Then ‘find’ some documents that show they’re relatives of Ramstein—” “Rain Shine,” Gabby corrected automatically before wincing in anticipation of the rebuke she already knew was coming. “Do I look like I care?” Gilda said with exasperation. “Find me a kirin that we can claim is the relative of whoever, and we’ll set them up as the more legitimate ruler! We’ll label them the ‘government in exile’, or something. “We’ve done it before! We did it with the dragons,” the griffon ambassador pointed out. “We installed what’s-his-name; Grudge.” “Sludge,” came another reflexive correction from the smaller griffon. “Yeah, that one. We managed to justify the invasion using him back then. It worked great!” Gilda hesitated for a moment, before gruffly adding, “Until they, you know, revolted and got their stick or whatever back to Torch…” “The Bloodstone Scepter.” The head of the griffon mission pitched the top of her beak, letting out a beleaguered sigh. “Gabby…I genuinely don’t care what the dragons call their special stick.” She let out a beleaguered sigh. “Look just…get out there and start putting feelers out for a patsy we can prop up to take the Kirean throne, okay? Then figure out what we’d need to do in order to make them look legit so we can push to depose Train Sign.” Gabby raised a claw and opened her beak to once more offer up corrections for the more senior griffon, but then thought better of it. It was clear that Gilda was not in a particularly great mood as things stood and further antagonizing the griffon was only going to land the smaller gray assistant with ever more daunting tasks. That was what typically happened when the ambassador was getting upset: she would give Gabby things to do which were largely impossible so that, when the other griffon inevitably failed, Gilda could yell and scream at her and insist that the reason why nothing was going right was all due to Gabby’s bumbling incompetence. At this point, it was best to just get through the next few hours of fruitless tedium so that they could get to the point where Gilda screamed herself hoarse and told Gabby to come back tomorrow. With any luck, a freshly-rested Gilda would be more open to entertaining genuinely practical solutions to the problems facing the Republic. “Yes, Ambassador Gilda.” “And don’t come back until you’ve found somekirin!” Gabby spared a moment to weigh the costs and benefits of taking the ambassador at her word. On the one talon, there was a certain appeal in never having to deal with the obstinate griffon representative again. Gabby was mostly certain that she wasn’t going to find a kirin on Harmony Fortress that would be suitable for Gilda’s proposal. Most of the kirin on the island were associated with the Kirean government in some way, and so probably wouldn’t be amenable to participating in a coup… On the other talon, it was a fairly small island, and Gabby wasn’t going to be able to stay away from Ambassador Gilda forever. In which case, the sooner she returned and reported her ‘failure’ in finding a patsy, the less time Gilda was going to have to marry herself to the idea of trying to go that route in lieu of any other possible plans. Ultimately, it was probably best for the both of them if Gabby just went out for an hour or two and then came back to report her failure, weather the inevitable screaming fit, and then spend the evening coming up with more practical proposals to offer the ambassador in the morning. “Yes, Ambassador Gilda.” Gabby bowed and left the office with the intent of at least going to Ponyville. The least she could do was talk to a kirin or two for the sake of following her orders before throwing in the towel… Generally speaking, dragons weren’t a very common sight around the equine quarter of the island. Most of them were significantly larger than ponies and the other quadrupeds, and so it was often inconvenient to try and squeeze into the shops and recreational establishments that largely catered to such creatures. Most dragons tended to keep to Cowtown, on the island’s north side, where most buildings were built on a significantly larger scale in order to accommodate larger creatures, like minotaurs. Unlike Ponyville, where most of the residents were indeed specifically ponies, Cowtown was not actually home to a minotaur majority—though it did host a razor-thin plurality of the bovines. However, minotaurs had been the ones to initially move into this area of the island and developed it to suit their needs, with other creatures comparable to their size—like most dragons, diamond dogs, and horses—choosing to congregate in the area later as a matter of convenience. Ironically, because his stature was considerably smaller than that of a typical dragon his age, Spike tended to feel more out of place in Cowtown specifically because it was built up on a larger scale. He was more comfortable in Ponyville, where he could more easily look other beings in the eye without having to risk straining his neck muscles as a result of having to look up the whole time to maintain eye-contact. The small purple dragon particularly liked patronizing kirin-run establishments, as their partially scaled nature and preference for furnishings which were fire-retardant helped to make him feel more ‘at home’, even when he was away from his ‘home away from home’ on the island. The little bar that he was presently sitting in while dealing with one of the tasks assigned to him by Ambassador Ember was one of his favorites: The Tufted Tail. It was a relatively low-key bar which was heavily patronized by kirin. Because it catered to a large kirin audience, and those particular equines were known to have a—literal—fiery temper, especially after downing a flagon or two too many, just about everything in the bar was made out of non-flammable material: The floor was tiled, the walls were brick, the roof was slate, the benches were granite, and the tables were steel. It was one of the few places to eat and drink where Spike didn’t have to worry about incurring a surcharge to cover damages after expelling a particularly hardy burp. It also made for a convenient place to conduct business with kirin. “—want to thank you for your time, Miss Blaze,” the little purple dragon finished up, gathering the recently signed lengths of parchment into his claws and ensuring that they were properly organized. “We’ll get the first deliveries of powder to you as soon as we can,” he assured the auburn-maned mare sitting across from him. “Hopefully by the end of the month.” “No, thank you, Master Spike—and Ambassador Ember!” The scaled equine insisted, a relieved expression washing over her features as she clutched the promissory note to her chest like it was her own precious foal. “You can’t understand what this means for us—” the mare stopped, blinked, and then flashed the dragon a sheepish smile. “Or…maybe you dragons understand exactly what this means?” Spike nodded, a wan smile of his own tugging at his snout. He was personally too young to have experienced what life had been like while under griffon occupation, but he’d certainly heard plenty of anecdotal accounts from other dragons growing up. He’d also done enough reading in his role as the aide to Ambassador Ember to have a pretty firm understanding of the long and sordid history of diplomatic relations that dragons had enjoyed with the other races of the world prior to the Dragons Lands invasion and occupation by the griffons. Which was to say: essentially none at all. At least, nothing positive. For many centuries, dragons had been regarded by the other races as being barely sentient. This view hadn’t been entirely held out of prejudice either. The fact was that a lot of dragons had barely bothered to talk with members of other races. Instead, most of the contact between dragons had amounted to the dragon in question attacking the other creature and taking anything and everything of value in their possession. Ships had tended to give the islands of the Scaley Archipelago a wide berth too, as there had always been a better-than-even chance of some great wyrm flying down and pillaging the vessel’s cargo. This behavior had ultimately ended up lending the Griffonian Republic’s initial confrontations with the Dragon Lands an air of legitimacy, as it had first been framed as the griffons confronting a threat posed by ‘mindless beasts’ that were terrorizing travelers. It hadn’t taken long after that for it to become clear that dragons were more than just another variety of monster, like a hydra or a cragodile. Unfortunately, it also soon became clear that it didn’t really matter all that much. Dragons had earned a rather unflattering reputation over their centuries of raiding. So, when the griffons came to their islands in force, with cannons and guns that weren’t rebuffed by dragonhide in the way that spears and arrows had once been, the dragons had found themselves with few races that expressed any sympathies for their plight. There certainly hadn’t been anycreature who’d been willing to help them. In Spike’s opinion, a lot of his fellow dragons—Ambassador Ember included—had taken exactly the wrong lesson from all of that. In his mind, the lack of sympathy and aid in the dragons’ time of greatest need should have been a wake-up call that the way they’d been conducting themselves with the other races of the world was ultimately self-destructive. No matter how proud and mighty dragons might think of themselves, they couldn’t just keep trying to go their own way alone. They needed friends—allies—who would help them when larger threats appeared. That wasn’t how most dragons saw things though—and that included the ambassador and her father, the Dragon Lord. For them, their internationally unopposed enslavement at the claws of the griffons had demonstrated that the rest of the world didn’t care what happened to dragons, and that they couldn’t count on anycreature to help them. In their minds, they’d just been living their lives the way that dragons were supposed to—accumulating their hordes from any who were too weak to oppose them—when the griffons came around and enslaved them for no good reason! And, while it may have taken some time, eventually the dragons were able to rise up and liberate themselves; without any help or support from the other races. Spike’s views on what had led to his race’s subordination to the griffons—and how to avoid similar disasters in the future—were, to put things mildly: ‘unpopular’. So the little purple dragon mostly kept them to himself. At least, when he was around other dragons—especially Ember. However, in this particular moment, he felt a little more comfortable expressing himself. “It’s hard feeling like you’re alone,” Spike agreed with a sober nod. “I’m glad we can help you. I know it’s not a lot…” A few hundred tons of gunpowder was hardly going to turn the tide in the kirins’ favor, not against a foe as numerous and mighty as the Republic. At best, it would just put off the inevitable for a few more months. “It’s plenty, Master Spike—” “You don’t have to call me ‘master’,” the dragon whelp insisted, squirming uncomfortably in his seat. “I’m just a glorified secretary…” “You have brought my kind hope!” Autumn Blaze insisted, waving the parchment that she was clutching in her cloven hooves to accentuate her point. “As far as the kirin are concerned, that makes you a hero. “Thank you. I’ll never be able to say it enough, Master Spike, Thank you!” The red-maned mare was once more clutching the proof of the dragons’ promise to send aid to her chest. Again the little dragon felt profoundly uncomfortable to receive this level of praise from the mare. She was positively gushing over a little bit of gunpowder…that the ambassador was giving to the kirin because it amounted to little more than trash as far as the dragons were concerned. It made the adoration feel…undeserved. “...You’re welcome, Miss Blaze—” “Autumn, please,” the scaled-equine insisted, finally carefully folding up the parchment and securing it in her asbestos-lined saddlebag. She looked back at Spike and opened her mouth to say more…but then her eyes looked past him and widened— —Before immediately narrowing. Autumn Blaze’s lips pulled back into a sneer as her eyes remained locked on something that lay behind the dragon. A low growl started to build up in the kirin’s throat. A few wisps of smoke started to waft up from the corners of the mare’s eyes. Confused, and even a little alarmed, the purple dragon turned around to see what it was that could have affected the mare’s mood so dramatically. Which was when he spotted a familiar gray-speckled griffon hen who was standing in the doorway of the bar…and looking profoundly uncomfortable while doing so. Autumn Blaze’s visceral reaction to the sight of the griffon was not a unique one. Spike could feel the ambient temperature of the room rising several degrees as multiple kirin noticed the arrival of the griffon. The dragon wasn’t sure if they would have reacted this way to any griffon who happened to walk into their bar, or if this reaction was reserved for the Republic ambassador’s aide specifically. In either case, Spike largely considered his business here done with, and so didn’t see any reason why he should stick around. He packed away his own papers and headed for the door. Gabby stepped aside as he passed, giving the smaller dragon a wide berth. She also wasn’t looking at him. The two of them hadn’t said much to each other since the incident involving Ragnar Island. Not that the pair of aides had done a lot of talking in their off hours prior to it either. However, they at least used to trade courtesies as they’d passed in the streets—or separated their vitriolic charges. That hadn’t been happening these last couple of weeks though. Spike paused in the doorway. He looked up at the griffon. “Hey.” Gabby didn’t say anything at first. It looked like she was genuinely surprised to be acknowledged by the dragon at all. Eventually she managed to get out a quiet “hey” of her own though. She was still having trouble meeting the dragon’s gaze. He glanced over his shoulder towards the glowering kirin, then looked back at the speckled hen. “It’ll probably get rough if you go in there,” he cautioned. “...Yeah.” Both creatures went quiet again. The tension in the bar felt like it had ratcheted up a further notch or two as every eye in the room stared intently at the two creatures. The two of them weren’t just some random dragon and griffon. They were official representatives of their respective governments. Whatever they said could often be justifiably interpreted as being an ‘official position of their government’ when they were alone. When they talked together, it could be construed as a ‘negotiation’. If they were overheard saying things to each other—and their words weren’t chosen very carefully—it could cause problems if those words got back to their superiors. There were things that Spike wanted to say…but not here, and not now. So he left without saying them. Spike was halfway to his meeting with the diamond dogs to break the news to them about the dissolution of their gem trade when he caught sight of a pony stepping out of a nearby alley and waving him down. The little purple dragon slowed down and regarded the stallion for a moment to see if he recognized them. The first thing that Spike noticed about the buttercream unicorn was that he was on the taller side, and quite thin too. He wore his red and white striped tail a little longer than most stallions tended to as well. The pony’s attire—a blue and white striped shirt with a black bowtie—was a little on the dated side, as far as fashion went, but not horrendously so. “Can I help you?” The dragon asked. “On the contrary, my dear fellow, it is I who can help you!” The unicorn countered happily, a smile plastered across his muzzle. “My brother and I would like to offer your ambassador the opportunity of a lifetime!” “Really?” Spike didn’t make an effort to disguise his obvious skepticism. It was frankly quite remarkable how many creatures suddenly wanted to be ‘friends’ with dragons, now that they’d show that they could stand up to the Republic and make the griffons back off. Dragons were being seen as something of a rising political power, sort of like how the ponies were, and a lot of creatures wanted to be on the Dragon Lord’s good side all of a sudden. Creatures, both Ember and Spike were quick to note, who hadn’t cared enough to lift a hoof, claw, feather, or finger, when the griffons had had their paws planted firmly on dragon throats. These creatures didn’t care about helping the dragons; they cared about being helped by the dragons. “If you’d like to meet with Ambassador Ember, then I can make an appointment for you,” Spike said without even a hint of interest. “Just a heads up though: it’ll probably be in about a month or so, at the soonest.” The smile on the pony’s face briefly faltered slightly before reaffirming itself. “Your ambassador will really want to hear what my brother and I have to offer sooner than that—” “Are you here on behalf of the Equestrian government?” Spike interrupted. His tone made it clear that he already knew the answer to that question. It wasn’t that he was giving the stallion an opportunity to lie, but rather that the dragon was trying to hint that certain categories of potential appointments got priority. “Or any government?” “...Nooo…” The stallion responded very carefully, looking like he’d had to actually consider how he was going to respond to the question. “Not as such… “But—!” “Then you’re going to have to wait,” Spike cut the unicorn off again with a shrug. “Ambassador Ember has a lot of demands for her time, and most of them are from other ambassadors or government representatives. I can't bump them for some random pony and his absent brother,” the dragon waved a claw around them, noting that he and the lone stallion were the only creatures in the immediate area. “He’s soliciting other potential clients—” The pony began, only to be interrupted again. “Then you’re probably both better off selling whatever it is you’ve got to them,” Spike said with a dismissive wave of his claws before turning and continuing on to meet with the diamond dogs. The little purple dragon didn’t see the unicorn frown, but he did hear the scoffing words that followed him out of the alleyway. “You’re going to regret letting this opportunity pass you by!” Spike merely snorted and shook his head. Gabby watched the little purple dragon walk away from the bar without another word. There was a moment where she wanted to call after him. It was a fleeting one though. Especially when she once more glanced in the direction of the kirin in the dimly-lit bar who very clearly didn’t appreciate the presence of a griffon in ‘their’ bar—certainly not a griffon that was under the employ of the Republic government. The gray griffon hen debated walking further in anyway. This would hardly be the first—metaphorically—cold reception that she’d gotten from a group of kirin today. Frankly, the fact that none of them had gone full nirik yet actually boded quite well—! Oh, wait…no…that kirin in the corner just burst into flames. Deciding that she’d already plucked out enough burnt feathers for one day, Gabby beat a hasty retreat back out into the street. She cast one final cautious glance over her shoulder to ensure that none of the bar’s patrons were interested in chasing her down before allowing herself to let out a resigned sigh and commit to ending her futile mission to find a cooperative kirin on Harmony. It wasn’t going to happen, and Gilda was just going to have to make peace with that. Instead, she decided that her time would be better spent trying to get a meeting with some gem suppliers. Now that the Republic no longer had access to the rich deposits of precious stones on Ragnar Island, there was a hole in the griffon domestic market which needed to be filled. Unlike a few of the races in the world, griffons weren’t particularly magically inclined. So they didn’t have a need for gems in the same way that, say, ponies did. Nor did they use them as a food source like dragons or diamond dogs. However, griffons did still have a mundane use for them like many other races: as jewelry. Perhaps more so than some other races, griffons had a special love of shiny trinkets. Decorative accents studded with glittering gemstones were in high demand among griffon nobility and those of wealth and means. The Republic’s dominion over the Dragon Lands, which were rich in gemstone deposits, had provided the griffons with a plentiful source of gems for over a century, which had glutted the Griffonian markets with precious stones and gaudy jewelry. This had allowed for even the commoner classes of the Republic to start adorning themselves with the sort of jewelry that had, at one point, only been reserved for the nobility. As a consequence, the nobles had seen a need to “outdo” the commoners and set new standards of dress for themselves. Obscene quantities of gemstones had become an essential component of just about every article of clothing worn by a well-to-do griffon. Gabby had seen suits and dresses worn by the rich and powerful which resembled stained-glass windows more than they did actual clothing. However, after the dragons had revolted and kicked the griffons out of most of the islands of their native archipelago, it had fallen to the few remaining mines which the Republic still controlled to keep up with demand and ensure that the nobility’s hunger for gems remained sated. Otherwise, they might start expressing their displeasure for how the government was conducting itself. When the richest and most powerful griffons in the Republic started to get unhappy with how the Griffonian leadership was performing, a change in that leadership wasn’t likely to be far behind. And such changes were rarely bloodless… With the mines on Ragnar Island now back in the claws of the dragons, a shortage of gems in the Republic was inevitable. New sources needed to be found, and soon. Gabby decided that she would first try her luck with some pony merchants first. There were still a lot of ponies who were grateful to the griffons for their willingness to continue to trade all throughout their war with the zebras. A lot of the other races had embargoed Equestria during the invasion, so as not to risk incurring the wrath of striped equines. The Republic, meanwhile, had decided that the risk was worth the reward, and sought the opportunity to extract every bit of wealth that they could out of the doomed race while they still could. The prices that the griffons had charged the ponies had frankly been extortionate, but the Equestrians had seen themselves as being on the brink of extinction, and so they’d paid those high prices without a second thought, and even thanked the griffons for their help. The speckled griffon hen just hoped that the ponies wouldn’t sense the imminent desperation of the Republic’s own need for gems and charge the same sort of exorbitant rates— “Oh, sorry!” Gabby squawked as she inadvertently bumped into a stallion standing in her way. The griffon reasoned that she must have been too distracted to notice him there. She hastily brushed off his striped shirt and bowtie before offering up an apologetic smile to the mustached unicorn. She picked the straw skimmer hat that she’d inadvertently knocked off and held it out to the pony. “I didn’t see you there; and I’m kind of in a hurry—” “Now now, think nothing of it, miss!” The lanky buttercream stallion declared, waving off the hen’s attempt at an apology. His telekinetic field reached out and took the hat from Gabby’s outstretched claws, setting it over his red and white streaked mane. “No harm done! In fact, I’m grateful to have ‘bumped’ into you, as you’re just the griffon I’ve been looking for!” Gabby balked. Then she cocked her head and raised her brow. “...I am?” She reached a clawed hand into her satchel and took out a piece of paper with a list of the day’s meetings written on it. “I’m sorry, I don’t think I have you on my schedule for today—” “My dear, when you hear what my brother and I have to offer your ambassador, you’ll make the time!” The unicorn declared, his lips spreading into a grin that was almost too wide to be a truly friendly one. “Oh, you want a meeting with Ambassador Gilda?” That made sense, Gabby supposed. Most creatures knew who she was, and that the only way to really get a meeting with the head of the Griffonian Mission on Harmony was to speak with her. “Well, she’s very busy today—” Busy being too angry to take meetings, anyway, “so I can’t get you a meeting right now—” “It doesn’t have to be right this moment,” the unicorn assured her, his broad smile still firmly in place. “But, you should know: the offer that my brother and I have for her has a fairly limited shelf-life. The sooner we can meet, the better!” “Your brother?” The hen quirked her brow a little higher up on her face as she glanced around the street, but couldn’t spot any nearby ponies who resembled the stallion talking with her right this moment. Granted, she supposed she wasn’t an expert on pony appearance… “He’s not here right now; he’s meeting with other potential clients.” The smile on the unicorn’s face took on a surprisingly predatory glint for a pony. “Which is all the more reason it’s in the best interests of your ambassador to meet with us as soon as possible: the services my brother and I have to offer can only be offered to a single—exclusive—client! “And there’s bound to be some fierce competition for what we’re providing.” Gabby was unable to keep the frown off of her face. Her role as Ambassador Gilda’s aide meant that she was frequently propositioned with requests—or even outright demands—to speak with the Republic delegation’s Head of Mission. Naturally, just about every request was prefaced as being some flavor of ‘urgent’ that couldn’t possibly wait for any significant length of time to be addressed. Over the years, the smaller gray hen had become immune to the typical pushy tactics used by petitioners. “...Right. I’ll see what I can do, but like I said before: you’re not on my schedule and Ambassador Gilda is busy right now. So if you want to try later, I’ll see if I can do anything for you.” The hen offered a slight bow of her head and moved to step around the buttercream stallion. “In the meantime: have a good day.” “Later it is, then,” the stallion called out after her. “And a good day to you, Miss Gabby!” The griffon hesitated for a brief moment at the sound of her name being used. She was sure that she hadn’t introduced herself… Of course, the stallion had obviously known that she was Gilda’s aide, so it stood to reason that he would have known her name too. Still, it had been a little disconcerting to be called by name by a pony whose name she didn’t know. Gabby shook off the unease and headed on her way. It was getting late in the day. At least, that was what Gabby thought to herself as she shuffled the glass in front of her on the table between her talons. She’d only taken the one sip of its contents since sitting down, electing instead to watch the amber liquid slosh around its interior as she toyed with it. She didn’t feel much like drinking, in all honesty. She heard the approach of claws clicking on wood. Then there was the soft grunt of effort as a significantly smaller creature hauled itself into the bench across from her and slid down. A bowl containing a glittering blue concoction sat in front of the new arrival. “Sapphire soup?” The griffon hen guessed. It was an extremely safe guess, as the dragon sitting across from her always ordered the same thing whenever they came here. Theirs had started as a notedly unlikely friendship, Gabby would admit. On the face of it, it never should have even happened, given all of the historical bad blood that existed between the griffons and the dragons. Indeed, Gabby had been ready to treat the little purple dragon with the same stoic silence that she had learned to give to any dragon that she encountered—if only to forestall the potential outbreak of violence that was likely to erupt any time griffons and dragons exchanged more than two words with one another. It wasn’t because of any personal animosity on her part. Gabby hadn’t known a time when the griffons reigned over the dragons. To her, they weren’t ‘former subjects’ or ‘exploitable resources’ the way that some of the older griffons regarded them. They were just…creatures. Just one of the many other races that existed in the world and wanted to live in it on their own terms, no different from the griffons. However, she understood that for dragons—well, most dragons—it wasn’t exactly easy to let ‘bygones be bygones’ where the Republic was concerned. Not when the griffons still controlled so much land that had once belonged to the dragons, and not when Griffonian rhetoric constantly made it clear that the official position of the Republic was that dragons were still little more than barely-sentient monsters in their eyes. In a weird way, it had been that rhetoric which had led to Gabby and Spike getting to know each other better, ironically enough. Because the ‘official’ opinion of the Republic’s government was that dragons were of middling intelligence, it had also been their opinion that an actual ambassador’s time was too valuable to be spent ‘negotiating with animals’, and so Gilda hadn’t ever participated in any direct talks with the dragons on Harmony. She’d sent Gabby in her stead. Similarly, because the ambassador of the Griffonian Republic refused to meet with the dragon Mission, Ambassador Ember refused to sit down and talk with a ‘lowly aide’, and had sent Spike in her stead. Which had left the two young aides to sit alone and hash out whatever recent issues had cropped between their races. Those meetings had evolved into lunches in town, if only so that they wouldn’t have to be cramped up inside some conference room in The Citadel all day. When they’d finished their business, but not quite their meals, they’d broached unofficial topics of conversation with each other, if only to pass the time. Gabby would never be able to put a talon on the exact moment the two of them had become friends—chances were that neither could Spike—but there was little doubt between the two that they were friends. A fact that they kept from both of their respective bosses. Spike took a noisy sip of the steaming gemstone suspension before letting out a contented sigh and relaxing into his seat. “Yup!” He then craned his head to peer at the drink that was drifting between Gabby’s talons. “That doesn’t smell like cider,” he noted. “It’s not,” the griffon confirmed. “It was a long day; I wanted to try something a little harder. It’s rum. “I don’t like it.” “...Do you want to order something else?” Gabby lifted the glass and took a drink of her bitter beverage before setting it down again. “No,” she said with a shudder and silent gag. Spike’s eyes darted between the griffon and her drink, a look of concern etched in his face. “...That bad, huh?” “Gilda’s always been a bit…um…” the hen grasped for the word that she wanted to use. “...Of a bitch?” “Prickly,” Gabby finally finished with an amused snort in the little dragon’s direction. The smile which tugged at the corners of her beak was far too fleeting though, in Spike’s opinion. A second later, the griffon was looking despondently back down at the contents of her glass. “But lately…she’s been getting a lot worse. Especially since the…you know…” “The whole Ragnar thing,” Spike correctly concluded, earning a solemn nod from the griffon. “Yeah, I can see that.” “Don’t get me wrong, I’m glad you dragons are getting your lands back,” Gabby assured him. “I’m especially glad that nogriff—and nodragon—was really hurt during the whole thing.” And all of that was true, and she hoped her friend knew that. “But it obviously didn’t go over well back in the Republic…” Spike allowed himself a mirthless snort at what was undoubtedly quite the understatement on Gabby’s part. “I can imagine it didn’t, no.” The dragon was clicking his claws on the bowl in front of him now as he battled briefly with himself about how much more he wanted to say. He considered Gabby to be his friend, and he knew that she felt the same way about him. However, their bond came with certain limits—and explicit caveats. Whatever else the two of them might be, they would always be agents of their respective races. They owed a duty to those races as a result. Which meant that, while Gabby would always make a good-faith effort to keep anything Spike told her in confidence…that desire to honor their friendship would always end up warring with her duty to her office, and the Republic. He didn’t want to put the hen in a position where she’d have to betray him in order to stay faithful to her fellow griffons. “Ember’s been getting…um…” “Bitchy?” Gabby flashed a smile at the dragon, who in turn chuckled. “Pushy,” he lightly corrected. “I think she’s letting the success go to her head. The dragons evict a bunch of griffon civilians off of one barely-defended island, and suddenly she’s acting like we’re one of the most powerful forces on the planet!” Spike let out an exasperated sigh. “It’s like she doesn’t even care that we’re risking alienating the few races that gave us any kind of support after we liberated ourselves…” “Tell me about it,” the griffon hen huffed. “I can count on one hand how many races the Republic’s not antagonizing. But I’d need both hands and my paws to count off the races we’re actively bullying! “In fact, it might only be the ponies and the zebras that we’re not screwing with.” A moment of brief thought, followed by an eyeroll. “And the alicorns, obviously.” “Obviously.” “But, try to tell either of them it’s a bad idea to piss off the other races…” Gabby lamented before taking another deep gulp of the beverage that she quite obviously despised the taste of. “Us dragons have a long tradition of going our own way,” said Spike, stirring his sapphire soup with an idle claw, “so it’s not really a huge surprise to me that Ember and Dragon Lord Torch think we can stand on our own. But I thought you griffons would appreciate teamwork. Don’t you always fly in flocks or something?” “You’re thinking of pegasi,” Gabby waved off the dragon before grimacing. “Before we met you dragons, the only thing that we griffons hated more than literally all other creatures on the planet: were other griffons.” The hen flashed Spike a grin as she relayed the old Republic joke. It was a wholly mirthless expression. “Oof.” “Yeah, I think the only reason we keep picking fights with everycreature else is because, if we didn’t, we’d end up picking fights with each other.” “That’s depressing,” Spike noted. Gabby nodded in agreement. “It’s also pretty relatable…which is just more depressing.” Another nod of agreement from the gray hen. “I should try and arrange a meeting with the zebras or the ponies,” Gabby began, elaborating when she saw the quizzical eyeridge raise from Spike. “A decade ago, they were at war—one side had even nearly wiped out the other—and now they seem on somewhat friendly terms.” “Didn’t a zebra kill a pony when that ship was here last week?” Spike pointed out. “I didn’t say things were perfect,” Gabby sighed, “but Colonel Sparkle and Ambassador Zecora can at least manage to sit through a whole Council meeting without lobbing a single death threat at each other. That’s leaps and bounds better than what us griffons and dragons are doing!” “That’s fair.” Spike finally picked up his bowl and poured the solution of finely-ground sapphire dust down his gullet. “If they ever tell you their secret, be sure to clue me in on it too. “I’ve got to go, Gabs; we’ll talk later?” “Of course. See you later, Spike.” The speckled hen watched the dragon leave the cafe with a much less forlorn look this time…only for her mood to immediately be soured less than a minute later when a familiar mustached unicorn with a buttercream coat strode in. A nearly identical stallion—save for the lack of facial hair—entered the cafe at his side. Both ponies made their way towards Gabby’s booth and sat themselves down on the bench that Spike had recently vacated. “You again,” the griffon sighed at the mustached unicorn, before her gaze swapped over to the clean-shaven member of the duo sitting across from her. “And this is the brother you mentioned, I take it?” “He’s Flim—” “—He’s Flam.” The pair stated in perfect coordination, obviously having introduced themselves in this fashion quite a few times before. “You told us to come by later—” “—And ‘later’ is ‘now’.” The pair were grinning at the griffon. “And lucky for you—” “—Our once-in-lifetime-offer is still up for grabs—!” “—But not for long—!” “—No, not for long!” “You and your illustrious ambassador should strike now, while the iron is still hot—!” “—No time to strike like a hot time to strike! Right, brother-of-mine?” “Right you are, brother-of-mine!” Gabby’s eyes darted between the two unicorns as they spoke in their disconcertingly synchronized manner. She knew that ponies were good at working together, but this stuck her as a little outside the norm, even for Equestrians. It also sounded very ‘sales-pitchy’. The griffon frowned…but she wasn’t ready to give them the boot just yet. The least she could do was hear a little more about their offer, and whether or not Gilda would consider it worth her time. “And what is this ‘offer’? What would the Republic be getting?” “Power—” “—Riches—” “—A seat at the head of the table on the world stage—!” “—It could even be a ‘table for one’, if you’d like!” Gabby was immediately dubious regarding the former offers on the list…and more than a little wary of the implications surrounding the latter. “...And all of this power and riches would cost the Republic…what, exactly?” “Nothing!” The pair responded in unison, grinning broadly back at the griffon. “Pull my tail again,” the hen scoffed. “And why exactly would you help out the Republic for free?” Assuming that they even can help, Gabby thought to herself. This whole affair stunk of a con. “Isn’t that what friends do for one another?” The mustached stallion prompted. “We’re friends?” “We could be—” “—We should be!” “Your ambassador will want to be our friend—” “—More specifically—” “—More correctly—” “—More directly—” “—She’ll want to be our associate’s friend—” “—Our soon-to-be mutual associate—” “—If you accept—” “—If Ambassador Gilda accepts—” “—Which she should.” Gabby felt confident that she was going to strain her neck looking between these two stallions if this conversation went on for too much longer. “Okay…and what are the two of you—” “—And our associate!” “—And your associate,” the griffon amended absently, “offering the Republic, specifically? What are you willing to do for us?” Both brothers leaned forward and grinned at the aide. “Well that depends…” Began the stallion with the mustache. The next part was said in unison: “...What do you want?” Author's Note "We're not friends; we're coworkers." 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Chapter 8: Signs and Portents“This is outrageous!” Ambassador Gilda roared as she stalked in front of the table hosting the other representatives of the major powers, glaring at each of the seated creatures in turn. Of course, the griffon understandably reserved the manticore’s share of her ire for Ember. She continued to wave a rolled scroll around in the air above her head to dramatically emphasize her latest reason for screaming at the room full of gathered delegates. “The dragons attacked one of our settlements—another one of our settlements! “And don’t you dare try to claim any of that ‘they asked us for help’ shit!” The Republic ambassador snarled in Ember’s direction. For her part, the dragoness seemed content to remain in her seat and smirk back at the hen, her arms nonchalantly crossed over her chest as she watched the griffon bluster, appearing completely unperturbed by Gilda’s accusations. “This was a naked unprovoked invasion of Republic territory! Plain and simple!” Gilda rounded on the representatives of the other three major powers. “This Council has to take action over this! You’re all about ‘maintaining the peace’, right?! So maintain it!” She jabbed a talon in Ember’s direction. “The Republic demands that the dragons be sanctioned—to the most extreme degree possible! If this Council is supposed to have any legitimacy or purpose at all, then it can’t sit idly by and do nothing while innocent civilians are terrorized by foreign soldiers!” As the griffon’s latest tirade drew to a close, Twilight forced her features to retain a neutral appearance. It wouldn’t have done for her to roll her eyes at Gilda’s apparent complete lack of self-awareness. The purple unicorn spent a few silent moments combing her brain for the appropriate arrangement of words that she might be able to utter which would point out the hypocrisy of the Republic ambassador’s words, given the actions of her own government in recent years. Or even recent weeks, come to think of it… Fortunately, Twilight ended up not having to bring those facts to light. Ambassador Ember was apparently already prepared to do so: “We’re curtailing raiding activity,” the sapphire-scaled dragoness said matter-of-factly, sounding quite nonplussed by Gilda’s earlier vitriolic speech. “One of our merchant ships sailing in proximity to Rock Haven Island was fired upon by the inhabitants there,” the dragoness elaborated further, turning her head slightly to speak more to the other delegates in the chamber than to Gilda directly. After all, it was those delegates that she’d have to convince, not the griffon. “As this Council knows, under internationally-recognized maritime law: unprovoked attacks on merchant vessels by groups that aren’t at war with each other are de facto acts of ‘piracy’. The Dragon Lands are well within their rights to use any and all force necessary to seize a ‘pirate haven’ and arrest the criminals that based themselves there.” Ember paused now and favored her griffon counterpart with a mirthless smile which showed quite a few fangs. “Unless the Republic wants to insist that this attack on our merchant shipping wasn’t an act of piracy by a rogue group of griffons, and that this was instead a condoned unprovoked attack by Republic-aligned forces? Because that would make all of this an act of war…” “‘Merchant vessel’ my ass; that ship was a frigate!” “It was carrying cargo intended for sale at another port,” Ember countered easily. “That’s the only required criteria for what constitutes a ‘merchant vessel’ under the letter of accepted maritime law. Hull type and armaments are immaterial.” “Your ship fired first!” Again, Ambassador Ember was ready with an explanation. “The crew of the DLS Fang were conducting simple firing drills. It’s something ship crews often do—as you should know, ambassador. At no point did they target Republic ships or fortifications; their shots sailed harmlessly into the water, as was the crew’s intention.” She then flashed the other ambassador a reproachful look. “The island’s batteries, however, were targeting the Fang. “The ship and crew simply acted to defend themselves against what they perceived as an act of piracy; as was their legal right.” Ember leaned forward in her seat now, steepling her claw-tipped fingers as she stared at the fuming griffon. “Your government is free to stand behind the actions of the griffons on the island, but rest assured that if the Republic officially condones an attack on our merchant shipping, we will consider it to be a de facto declaration of war by the Republic against the Dragon Lands. “Given that the Republic’s fleets are currently otherwise occupied elsewhere with ‘anti-piracy’ operations of their own…” Ember’s eyes darted briefly towards the kirin delegation, who had thus far not demonstrated any indication that they might sympathize with Gilda’s condemnation, given their own ongoing issues with griffon aggression. “...I would caution you about opening up a second theater of operations so far from the first.” The dragoness paused, tapping a claw against her chin as she feigned thinking. “Or would this actually constitute a third?” Ember’s head tilted in the direction of the room’s hippogriff delegation, who also seemed to be regarding Gilda with some degree of animosity. The griffon ambassador was ready with her government’s official deflection once she recognized what the dragoness was hinting at. “That’s not an operational theater,” the hen reflexively insisted. “Our navy is simply curbing illegal fishing in our territorial waters.” The growl from the hippogriff representatives was audible to all five representatives of the major powers at the larger table at the head of the room. “Of course they are,” the dragoness said with a roll of her eyes and a dismissive wave of her hand. “But my point still stands: you don’t have the ships to do anything to us right now if you’re going to insist that the griffons on Rock Haven aren’t pirates. We, however, have a lot of ships and dragons with nothing better to do than to take back every other island in the Scaly Archipelago that has griffons on it if your Republic goes ahead with a war. “What was the civilian population that you have living on those islands at last count?” Ember asked in a tone of feigned-ignorance before she supplied her own answer. “Because your own census records put it at just shy of a hundred thousand a few years ago. That’s a hundred thousand Republic citizens with nothing between them and our guns and dragon fire if you give the wrong answer here, Gilda.” A smile which contained far too much glee at the prospect of slaughter on such scale for Twilight’s liking spread across the dragoness’ face as she issued her challenge to the hen. “So consider how you want to proceed from here very carefully, ambassador.” Gilda spent several long seconds visibly seething as she held the dragon representative’s stare. It was plain to every other creature in the room that there was a lot the griffon wanted to say…but she didn’t. Which, for the Republic ambassador, represented something of an uncharacteristic degree of diplomatic acumen. Instead, she glanced around the room, noting the number of other delegations that were regarding her with less-than-favorable expressions. The Griffonian Republic had not exactly endeared themselves to many groups over the last couple of centuries. Except for perhaps the ponies, to whom they sold weapons during their confrontation with the zebras. That had earned the Republic considerably favorable trade agreements with Equestria as a result. But she doubted that the griffons had earned anywhere near enough good will with the ponies for them to follow the Republic into an open war with the dragons. Especially a war which the Republic would have ‘officially’ been the instigator of. “Obviously,” Gilda eventually ground out through a tightly clenched beak, “the Griffonian Republic would never authorize unwarranted acts of aggression against another race.” The griffon somehow managed to say without a hint of sarcasm audible in her tone. She pointedly ignored the scattered outbursts from several of the delegations in the room, waiting for Colonel Twilight Sparkle to command silence in the chamber once more before she continued. “Nor,” she managed to force herself to continue, “would my government try and thwart…” The griffon was forced to swallow down—some—of the derisiveness that sought to color her next words, lest they come off as sounding a little too patronizing for such proceedings. “...anti-piracy activities.” Twilight took this opportunity to speak up again, sensing that the atmosphere had shifted considerably from what it had been when Ambassador Gilda began her tirade. “Is this Council to understand then that the Republic is withdrawing its demand for sanctions against the Dragon Lands?” The griffon ambassador took a deep breath to ensure that her response was properly controlled. “...Yes. We withdraw the motion.” Then Gilda immediately held up a talon and leveled it at Ember. “However, we demand that all of the griffon ‘pirates’,” the stress which the hen’s placed upon the label this time left no doubt now as to her own dubiousness of Ember’s claims, “be extradited to Griffonstone for trial! They’re still Republic citizens!” The dragon representative wasn’t swayed by this argument either. “They committed acts of piracy against the Dragon Lands. Foreigners or not, we hold primary jurisdiction over them.” Gilda’s talons balled into a fist as the hen let out another frustrated snarl before finally turning away from the dragoness and stalking back to her own seat at the curved table. It wouldn’t have been quite right to call what the griffon hen did ‘sulking’, but that description wouldn’t have been far off the mark either. ‘Fuming’ might have been an apt description too. She didn’t say much for the remainder of the meeting that day in either case. Which was probably for the best, given that some of the other business that had yet to be addressed involved the kirin asking for food and medical supplies to mitigate the harm being inflicted on their citizens as a result of the Republic’s continued efforts to ‘curb raiding activity’. Then there were the hippogriffs asking for an impartial committee to be formed which would confirm the boundaries of Griffonian Republic and Hippogriffia Queendom’s territorial waters. For that too, Gilda simply seethed in silence while abstaining from voting. When Twilight finally concluded the day’s session, she watched the griffon all but storm out of the room, shoving past a few of the other delegates who weren’t even quite in her path. Her gaze wandered to Ambassador Ember now, who had watched her rival’s departure with a wide smile on her snout. It was pretty evident that the meeting’s events had played out to the dragoness’ satisfaction. The purple unicorn approached the dragon. “Ambassador Ember, if I might make a request?” “Request away, colonel.” “It’s hard to believe that every griffon on Rock Haven Island engaged in acts of piracy,” the mare began. “There were nearly three thousand griffons on that island, after all, including families—chicks. If your government could at least see fit to return the civilians to the Republic—” “What civilians?” Ember’s words possessed a coldness that Twilight didn’t like. “I said that it was a ‘pirate haven’. There were no civilians there. Only pirates and griffons that were helping pirates. “They were all dealt with in accordance with established dragon law.” The little unicorn felt a chill grip her heart. While the mare was not intimately familiar with every law that the Dragon Lands had on their books—she didn’t even know all of Equestria’s laws—she knew how the dragons—and many nations, including Equestria—dealt with piracy: they employed the death penalty. Twilight’s mouth felt dry as she spoke her next words, because she was terrified that she already knew what the response would be. “...What about the chicks? Ambassador, surely you don’t mean that you—” “Did you know that Rock Haven was once home to one of our ancestral hatching grounds?” Ember interrupted. “It was one of our largest, in fact,” she went on, talking in the calm tone of one who was imparting a piece of trivia. “Rock Haven Island has extensive subterranean lava flows that make it an ideal site for keeping our eggs nice and warm while they mature. “There was a freshly-laid clutch on that island the day the Republic invaded it.” The dragoness’ ruby eyes now flared with barely repressed rage as she locked them onto Twilight. “Four thousand, two hundred, and seventy-nine,” she growled out in words that dripped with loathing. “That was how many eggs were on the island that day. “You should ask Gilda what the griffons did to them.” Twilight swallowed and said nothing. She was an expert on many subjects—and had the academic credentials to back most of that expertise up—but the unicorn acknowledged her ignorance with regards to each and every atrocity that the Griffonian Republic had inflicted on the dragons during their centuries-long occupation of the Dragon Lands. She knew that life for the dragons under griffon rule had been brutal. She knew that a lot of dragons lost their lives during that time for objectively trivial reasons. To put things exceptionally mildly, the griffons were, as Doctor Fluttershy might say: ‘not nice’. The unicorn wasn’t going to act as an apologist for the griffons. What the Republic had done to the dragons—what they were continuing to do to many other creatures—couldn’t be excused. Not in her mind. But, maybe, she could at least try to appeal to the ambassador to be less ruthless in the future; in the hopes that not answering atrocities in kind could avert an outright war… “Ambassador, how exactly do you expect the griffons to react when they hear that the dragons are executing their chicks—” “I ‘expect’ them to fly back to their fucking homeland and leave the Scaly Archipelago forever!” Ember snapped in reply. “To leave our islands and never come back! It’s what they should do, if they’re smart.” Ember’s lip curled as she continued to stare down at the smaller unicorn mare. “And if the only way for them to get the message is for some of their hatchlings to get snuffed for a change…then that’s on them. “They came to us, Equestrian,” the dragoness all but spat in Twilight’s face. “If you want to save the lives of griffon chicks, then convince Gilda to take her griffons out of our home!” With that, Ember sought to take her own leave, shouldering Twilight out of her way as the dragoness stomped out the same door that Gilda had. The unicorn winced and stumbled a little at the shove, but otherwise did nothing to reprimand the representative or retaliate. The ambassador was obviously at least as upset as Gilda had been. Nothing would be gained from trying to escalate matters over a rude push. Instead, Twilight simply looked helplessly in the direction of Ambassadors Zecora and Celestia, seeking any aid or wisdom that either of the more experienced delegates might be willing to offer. Her gaze lingered longer on the towering ivory alicorn. “I don’t even know where to begin on getting them to be friends…” It was the zebra mare who answered first. “Their pain runs deep,” she said. Beside her, Celestia offered a sage nod. “For nearly a hundred years, the dragons have not been mending their wounds; instead, they have been stoking their fires of hatred.” “The griffons and dragons are not at a place where there can be peace,” Celestia agreed. “Not right now. That process can’t begin until one side is willing to acknowledge the wrongs. “It doesn’t matter who goes first,” the alicorn went on, “but one side must. When that happens, then the other can be appealed to with a possibility—however remote—of success and peace can have a chance to take root.” Her muzzle broke into a smile now; unfortunately it was a wan one. “Unfortunately, it is nearly impossible to maneuver a party into taking that first step when tensions are as high as they are now.” Twilight’s shoulders slumped. “You’re saying that peace is impossible?” “I’m saying that it’s up to the griffons and the dragons. Nothing any of us can do will affect anything at this point.” The unicorn’s sigh was an exasperated one. “Irreconcilable differences. Great.” She brought a hoof up to massage her temple. As far as isolating the variables necessary to solve a problem went, this was one of the more complicated that she’d come across in recent memory. “Even if their nations have a lot of history though, that can’t be the case for the ambassadors themselves! Did Ember and Gilda even know each other before coming to Harmony?” She glanced between the other two mares, seeking any knowledge that they might have on the histories of the other members of their little quintet. “It is unlikely that the two of them would have had much direct contact prior to coming here,” Zecora concluded. “The griffons and dragons do not maintain embassies in each others’ nations.” “So then they don’t have any personal animosity—not really,” Twilight said, more to herself than to the other ambassadors she was speaking with. “If I can just get them to talk to each other—as individuals first and ambassadors second—then maybe they can figure out how to actually try and negotiate with each other in good faith. “Like actual proper diplomats,” she added with a rueful look cast towards the alicorn and the zebra. “It’s not always easy to get others to set aside preconceived notions that they have of others, even if they’ve never personally met,” Ambassador Celestia cautioned. “Creatures can often be emotional,” Twilight agreed, nodding. “But part of being a professional—like a diplomat—is being able to set aside your personal feelings to get the job done.” “Because if Gilda and Ember have shown you anything in these last few weeks, it is their ability to set aside their emotions,” Zecora quipped, doing a poor job of hiding a smile. If she was actually even trying to hide it in the first place. The little purple pony permitted herself an eye roll. “Fair point. Still, I should at least give it a try. I doubt those two meeting would make anything worse. “I’ll look over some books on mediation—maybe even a few psychology texts for some therapeutic techniques—and arrange a meeting with both of them,” Twilight said, floating out a quill and a piece of parchment to make some notes for herself. “I should be able to at least get them talking after a few meetings…” Zecora exchanged a dubious look with the alicorn standing beside her. Celestia politely cleared her throat. “If I may? You might want to consider that it will take more than reading a few books to help you resolve this issue…” “I don’t think I’ll get everything solved all at once,” the unicorn conceded, “but if I go into this with a firm didactic foundation, it should allow me to get those two headed in a more productive direction.” “Have you ever tried something like this before?” The taller mare inquired. “Well, no…” Twilight admitted with a small frown. “But the theories should be sound, and I’ll have those to lean on.” She finished making her notes and returned the material to her saddlebag. “Thank you both for the advice. I’ll let you know how it goes.” The little purple mare issued the other two ambassadors a brief bow of her head before turning and making her departure. Celestia and Zecora watched her leave. The former heaved a heavy sigh and shook her head. “On the bright side: she probably can’t make things any worse between them.” “Probably,” the alicorn conceded; though not without a hint of worry. Twilight considered whether or not it was too late for her to request new quarters. It wasn’t that the lookout post was particularly far from her present suite, but with as often as the unicorn was finding herself heading for the balcony, she suspected that the trip between her rooms and the outside were going to end up consuming a significant amount of her time over the next few years. She made a note to start tracking that time to see how much it added to over the next month. Her present hypothesis was that moving her quarters could end up saving her a couple weeks over the course of a year. Longer if the lookout post continued to be occupied when she arrived, the little purple unicorn very carefully did not think aloud when she arrived this latest time to find Ambassador Celestia standing on the balcony overlooking the island. However, it didn’t look like the alicorn had perched herself there in order to take in the view. The towering alicorn was facing west, her head raised to its full height with her horn awash in shimmering golden light. The sky beyond the island grew steadily dimmer. Twilight was forced to bite down on the excited gasp that fought to escape her throat, not wanting to risk disturbing the alicorn during such an important moment. It took a considerable quantity of self-control for the unicorn to not ignite her own horn and start probing Celestia’s spell to determine how it worked. Never mind how inexcusably rude such an unsolicited invasion of privacy would be considered, doing so without any sort of warning could potentially disrupt the spell being cast; and Twilight didn’t want to be responsible for explaining why sunset or moonrise had been postponed. She’d known that alicorns were responsible for moving the sun and the moon in the heavens of course. Every creature on the planet knew that about them. That fact—in addition to their reputation as wielders of singularly powerful magicks—was a significant part of why no other nation had ever initiated hostilities with the alicorns. However, until this moment, Twilight had never before seen the feat accomplished first-hoof. The unicorn focused her unblinking gaze on Celestia and committed every little detail to her memory. She fully intended to write down every detail later. The list of Equestria’s magical scholars who’d been in the proximity of an alicorn raising the sun or the moon was so short as to arguably not be worthy of being called a ‘list’; so Twilight knew that her own observations here could very well be worthy of being published in academic papers outright. It was something of a shame that she’d already completed her doctorate in Theoretical Magicks, as tonight’s observations could easily have sat in for her dissertation… The unicorn managed to—mostly—sit quietly and wait for the sky to finish dimming as the sun was sequestered beyond the horizon. A moment later, Celestia’s face was bathed in silvery light as the moon was raised in its stead. Only then did the alicorn extinguish the magic enveloping her horn. A small smile touched the tall mare’s face. “Good evening, Colonel Sparkle. How did your efforts to mediate between Gilda and Ember go?” The alicorn hadn’t appeared to even glance in the purple mare’s direction. Twilight flushed, not having realized that she’d done anything to be noticed. She cleared her throat and stepped out onto the balcony with the other mare, her own gaze focusing on the freshly-razed moon. “Ember laughed so hard that she accidentally set my quill on fire,” the smaller pony began in a flat tone. “And Gilda screamed so loud that she set off my tinnitus.” Twilight idly rubbed at her right ear with her hoof. “So they wouldn’t even meet.” “No,” the unicorn admitted with a sigh, “no they would not.” “I suspect that you did not come out here for an ‘I told you so’, so I’ll refrain from issuing you one.” “That’s very kind of you, ambassador.” “I also assume that their interest in meeting ended the moment they learned the other would be there?” Celestia asked. “Pretty much, yeah,” Twilight said in response. “That was, perhaps, your first mistake,” the alicorn offered. “Given that their animosity is a known quantity, you might have at least gotten them into the same room by forgoing mention of the others’ attendance.” The smaller pony frowned. “I fail to see how getting them to meet under false pretenses would help things.” “No ‘false pretenses’ are necessary,” the other mare insisted. “You could have invited each ambassador to meet with you by making a sincere offer to hear them out and get their perspective; and just happened to host both parties at the same time. “You would have at least gotten them into the same room together,” Celestia pointed out. “Obviously, whether they both stayed in that same room can’t be known,” she went on to concede, “but it would have represented making marginally more progress than you actually managed this evening.” “...I guess.” Twilight was far from convinced that it would have been much of an improvement on what ended up happening anyway. As far as she was concerned, she would have just ended up with ringing ears and smoldering quills at the same time. “I still don’t think tricking creatures into talking would be any more effective.” “Perhaps not,” the alicorn nodded. Then, in a more conversational tone, she began, “How are you getting along with your command staff?” Twilight hadn’t been anticipating the abrupt shift in topic from business to ‘small talk’ from the other mare, and so it took her a brief moment to compose herself and answer the question. “We’re getting on well enough, given the short time we’ve worked together. I think Major Rarity and I have the best working relationship so far. She’s very organized and runs an orderly staff.” Which was something that Twilight very much approved of. To say nothing about her always being able to count on the unicorn XO always arriving on duty with a positively immaculate uniform. Being exposed to that level of professionalism first thing in the morning always helped put her in high spirits at the start of a day. “And the others?” Now Twilight was forced to frown a little. “Captain Applejack and I are still recovering. She took the incident with the Dominance pretty hard. Not that I was particularly happy with how Ambassador Zecora manipulated things either,” the unicorn added with a lightly derisive snort. “She’s a good mare though; and I admire her integrity. “Captain Rainbow Dash…” Twilight massaged her brow. “...It’s not that she’s bad at her job,” she acknowledged, then the mare considered her wording and amended her statement. “Or rather: it’s not that she’s a bad flier. Her ‘job’ is to lead her squadrons—which she does…by about two leagues ahead of them during each patrol. “Her skill justifies her rank; but it hasn’t helped her to truly understand her position, I don’t think.” Twilight was silent for a short while. “I might end up replacing her. We’ll see. Part of my job as commander of the fortress is to mentor my other officers. If I don’t at least try to make Captain Dash into a better leader, then I’ll have failed as her commanding officer.” Celestia nodded. She then waited a moment to see if Twilight would continue. When the purple mare didn’t she ventured, “...And Doctor Fluttershy?” “By all accounts she’s a great physician.” Which was as far as the unicorn appeared to initially be willing to go on that front. She then caught sight of the alicorn’s raised eyebrow and sighed. “We haven’t really spoken much—at all—beyond me getting her morning report. She won’t talk to me outside of those meetings. “Frankly, after looking into her file a little more, I’m not sure that’s a bad thing.” “Oh?” “It turns out she spent time in the disciplinary barracks after the war—military prison, basically—for desertion,” Twilight explained. “She abandoned Equestria during the war.” The unicorn didn’t quite spit out the words, but it was a near thing. The mare didn’t begrudge ponies who had fled the invasion, if they were civilians. Ponies generally wanted to be safe, and Equestria hadn’t been during that time. It was different for those who had worn the uniform though. Ponies like Twilight—like Fluttershy—who had chosen to serve in the military and defend their lands, they had sworn oaths not to run. They—supposedly—had accepted the risks and promised to fight until the zebras were turned back into the sea…or until nopony was left alive to fight against them any longer. Fluttershy, it turned out, had fled during the war. When the zebras surrendered and offered peace terms, only then had the pegasus physician returned. She’d been subsequently arrested, tried, and imprisoned for several years. However, as doctors were a scarce resource after the war, the mare had eventually seen her confinement transitioned into probation and her license to practice medicine reinstated. Twilight wasn’t exactly sure how the pegasus mare’s assignment to Harmony factored into her reduction in prison time, but suspected that it had played a role in her early release. The doctor had hardly been the only deserter that Equestria had seen towards the end of the war, when the outlook had been at its most desperate. In those final months, it had mostly felt like a forgone conclusion that everypony left in Equestria was going to die. Some had managed to cling onto faint hopes, but…it had been fleeting at best. None of which did much to change Twilight’s personal opinion of those who’d chosen to run after promising they’d stay. “I see,” the alicorn finally said in reply. “You think less of her for running.” “I think it’s possible there are ponies who might have been alive today if there’d been another doctor around,” Twilight primly offered. “I won’t go so far as to say that it’s her ‘fault’ that any specific ponies died, but actions have consequences; and the ‘consequence’ of a doctor not being available to treat patients is usually that those patients die. “I’d never be able to put any kind of number to that,” the unicorn admitted, her mind already rushing through a few rough estimates based upon the casualty numbers she recalled from battles near the end of the war and comparing them to survival rates that she’d seen in reports compiled years later when the military was reviewing its procedures for evacuating and treating the wounded. There were quite a few variables that the little mare couldn’t hope to pin down with any real degree of accuracy, but she privately estimated the number of ponies an additional competent doctor on hoof could have saved to be in the low hundreds. “But it’s certainly above ‘zero’.” “The choices that we make have consequences,” Ambassador Celestia agreed with a solemn nod of her head. She turned her head out towards the sea, making it impossible for Twilight to see her expression. “For some, those consequences are a matter of life and death.” The unicorn’s ear twitched at the faint sound of a ragged breath being taken in and let out. “We just hope that the choice we make is one we can live with. In time.” Twilight’s lips pursed as the mare prepared to inquire if the alicorn was feeling alright. But, before she could, the towering ivory mare had turned to regard the smaller mare again, her expression was a warm one; though the gentle smile on her lips appeared just a little bit forced to the unicorn’s eyes. “It’s been a stressful day. If I might suggest: I know Major Rarity avails herself of frequent visits to a spa in Ponyville. “Our time there tends to overlap,” the alicorn explained, shaking out her billowing mane for emphasis. “So I know that she’s not averse to company and conversation. “You might benefit from spending a few hours in her company, colonel.” The little purple unicorn sighed, frowning slightly at the ambassador. “I’m not usually the kind of mare who gets a lot out of a visit to a spa,” Twilight said, gesturing broadly at herself with a hoof, as though her general appearance should have made that fact evident. Her mane style was certainly the sort that loudly announced to the world that no professional hooves were involved in sculpting her appearance. Unlike Major Rarity’s own impressive curls in her mane and tail. “But you might stand to gain something from talking with the major,” Celestia offered, to which the other mare was forced to make a conceding nod. “That might help,” Twilight acknowledged. “I’ll think about it. If I have the oportunity,” she qualified. “Running Harmony takes a lot of my time,” the mare pointed out. “Of course.” The alicorn turned once more and headed for the railing of the lookout. Her massive ivory wings flared in preparation for flight. “Good night, colonel; I’ll see you again at the next Council meeting.” She craned her head to look back over her shoulder, offering the other mare a smile. “Or, perhaps, the spa? If you decide to drop by…” Celestia leaped over the railing and beat her wings, ascending quickly towards the gilded airship moored at the top of The Citadel. The fortress’ commander watched her go, until a golden flash of light enveloped the alicorn and she vanished from view entirely. Twilight didn’t spend much longer on the balcony after that, electing to return to her quarters instead. After all, she did have some notes that she wanted to write down regarding what she’d seen that evening. A hot bath might not have gone amiss either. Now that the thought was in her head, a long soak in some warm water to help her relax sounded quite appealing. …Perhaps a visit to that spa wouldn’t be a bad idea after all. When she had the time, of course. Ambassador Gilda forced her talons to unclench. It took considerable effort to do so. The reluctant movement was followed shortly by the griffon hen shaking the shredded remnants of parchments from her hand, adding to the pile of ripped and torn reports that was steadily growing around her desk. Gabby, standing at the ready, wiped the last few pieces of scroll away from the desk’s surface with a deft flick of her wing and provided the ambassador with a fresh copy of the report that had just been destroyed. The aid held several stacks of multiple copies in her talons. Those stacks had been considerably thicker an hour ago. Gilda didn’t look at the unmarred—for now—copy of the latest observations that had been made of the movements of the dragons’ fleets. Instead, she took in a deep breath to try and calm herself so that she could think more clearly. It didn’t help much. Neither had the reports that she’d seen from Griffonstone which confirmed that the Republic wouldn’t be able to reinforce their holdings in the Scaly Archipelago any time soon. Certainly not soon enough to do anything about the next incursion that was coming, given what the latest movements among the dragon forces portended to. “Useless,” Gilda growled to no particular set of ears in the room. “They’re all fucking useless! “We can get back to dealing with the kirin and the hippogriffs any time we want,” the hen went on, “they’re not going anywhere. But the dragons are coming for us now!” This was a fact that the Republic’s leadership was both aware of, and apparently apathetic towards. They were prioritizing acquiring new coaling stations in Kirea and securing additional sources of fish near Hippogriffonia. In exchange, they appeared to be perfectly content to lose hold of the gem mines near the Dragon Lands—it would be a ‘temporary’ loss, she’d been assured. The ‘plan’—and Gilda had her doubts that the proposed course of action actually counted as a ‘plan’—was for the Republic’s forces to consolidate and move against the dragons once the other operations had concluded. However, based upon what Gilda was seeing in these latest intelligence reports regarding the dragons, the ambassador was convinced that was going to be a lot easier said than done. If it would even be doable at all. The dragons were undertaking an absolutely massive buildup of their military at the moment. Meanwhile, the most optimistic estimates from the Republic suggested that the griffons wouldn’t be able mount operations to retake their holdings in the Scaly Archipelago for at least another eighteen months. Strictly speaking, the dragons wouldn’t be able to assemble a navy that could match the size of the Republic’s even if they were granted eighteen years to do so. However, there was more to military considerations than raw numbers. The fact was that dragons were objectively larger and tougher than griffons. If a griffon wanted to win in a fight with a dragon, they needed both a numerical advantage and a technological one. The Republic still had the former. Even after a century of independence, the dragons had not quite managed to bring their numbers back up to where they’d been prior to their occupation by the griffons. Dragons were relatively slow to grow and mature when compared to most other races. They’d also had few viable hatching grounds available to them. However, what the Republic was steadily losing right now was their technological advantage. When the griffons had first arrived in the Dragon Lands, the residents of those islands had been mistaken for unintelligent animals because they had possessed exactly no technology whatsoever. They hadn’t used tools of any sort, hadn’t built anything, didn’t wear jewelry…there hadn’t been any outward sign at all of anything that other creatures would have taken as proof of a ‘civilization’ existing on those islands. It turned out that this had been a consequence of ‘necessity being the mother of innovation’...and the dragons hadn’t found themselves needing to innovate anything. Their claws could rend rock as easily as Gilda’s talons were tearing through the paper reports on her desk. Developing tools to do the job hadn’t been required. In fact, it could be argued that there were few tools which existed even today which could match a dragon’s claws for toughness and digging efficiency. Diamond dogs could give them a run for their money, perhaps. As tough as a dragon’s scales might have been though, they hadn’t held up to cannon fire; and dragon fire hadn’t been able to match the range of griffon artillery. Intelligent though dragons might have been, living like animals had allowed them to be slaughtered and corralled just as easily as any sheep, despite their objective natural toughness. But—despite griffon jokes to the contrary—dragons weren’t just dumb animals. They could think. They could learn. And the dragons had learned that fire, claws, and scales would only carry them so far in this modern world. So they’d adopted the tools and weapons of their oppressors. They’d learned how to use them…and later how to employ them effectively against their Republic masters. One of the larger dragon specimens was fierce enough on its own and represented a challenge to defeat without artillery available. Facing down a house-sized dragon encased in steel armor and wielding a ‘musket’ larger than most naval guns was an utterly terrifying prospect. Any griffon who said otherwise was a liar. No, fighting the dragons would not be anywhere near as simple this time around as it had been in the past. The longer the Republic waited to do anything about the threat that the dragons posed, the harder it was going to be too. Worse, they were getting bolder. More aggressive. More brazen. To the point that Gilda wasn’t convinced the dragons would cease their advancement once they reclaimed all of their ‘ancestral lands’. After all: what incentive would they have to stop taking Republic territory after seeing the international community do absolutely nothing to stop them up to this point? After seeing the Republic do nothing to stop them? The dragons had to be stopped. Soon. However, as Gilda had just borne witness to earlier that day: the Council would not act to curb the dragons’ advances. She’s just read the admissions from her own government that they weren’t going to do anything about it any time soon either. Which left exactly no options. It wasn’t like she had any resources that she could bring to bear personally— Her eyes darted to her aid. “Gabby, do you still know how to get in contact with those ponies you told me about the other day? The brothers?” “You mean Flim and Flam? Yes, ambassador,” the smaller speckled hen nodded. “Tell them I’m ready to meet with them.” It might have all been bluster, Gilda supposed. From what Gabby had explained, the siblings had not claimed any connection to the Equestrian government. They had alluded to having a ‘powerful’ patron unaffiliated with their homeland. ‘Power’, of course, came in many forms; and not all of them directly translated into military power. But, she supposed that there wasn’t much for her to lose when it came to asking if those unicorns and their benefactor could help in some way. If there was a chance that they could do something about the dragons—even if it was just to slow them down a little bit… “I know what I want.” Author's Note "You're trapped in a room with a dragon and a manticore. You have two pistols. What do you do? You shoot the dragon twice!" -- Old griffon joke. As always, a thumbs up and comment are greatly appreciated If you like the cover art and want to see more stories get them, I've set up a Cover Art Fund if you're interested and have any bits lying around!
Chapter 10: Voices of Authority (Part 2)After the reception finally ended, Twilight decided that she’d rather take the ‘long way’ back to The Citadel. The whole day had been nothing but a near-endless source of stress for the mare and she knew that there wasn’t any way that she was going to be productive if she went back to either her office or her apartment’s study right this moment. Major Rarity was tending to—though ‘fawning over’ was the term Twilight privately used in her head—the chancellor and getting him and his staff properly settled in for the night. Tomorrow morning they would be getting hosted by the griffon embassy, with the dragons hosting that same afternoon—there’d been a coin flip. Twilight expected it to be an altogether mentally exhausting experience. All the more reason to try and recenter herself this evening before being subjected to even more stress. To that end, she was undertaking a stroll through the fort’s commercial hub. Ponyville was the ‘heart’ of Harmony Six and, like a heart, it had a beat, with rising and falling periods of activity and quiet. In the predawn hours, a traveler would be hard-pressed to catch anycreature walking down the streets. Just after sunrise, however, the markets would be host to a rising din of traffic as the residents left their homes to go to work. Creatures shopped and talked and ate and worked all through the morning hours. Then lunch would come, along with a slight lull in the mayhem as creatures took a pause in their day to eat. The afternoon would see a return to form though, reaching even greater highs of activity and noise towards evening as creatures took care of what few errands they had time—and money—for after leaving their jobs. Then came dinner and another lull. This lull would deepen though, and last for a good while longer than the lunch one. It wouldn’t last through the night though. Eventually the bars would close and foist their drunken patrons onto the streets, which is when the activity level would rise for the final time that day. Presently, Ponyville was in the middle of its early evening winding-down period. Shops were encouraging their last customers of the day to complete their browsing and make their purchases. Cafes and restaurants were filling up with patrons either stopping by for a soothing drink after a long day of work or those who were looking to enjoy the day’s final meal before retiring back to their homes for the night. Store owners locking away their wares and drawing shutters of curtains closed over their windows gave the purple unicorn the very real sense of the island ‘putting itself to bed’, and it helped to relax her. Twilight wasn’t quite as anxious now as she had been since getting word that the chancellor would be coming to visit. It was obvious that Fancy Pants was quite happy with both the Harmony Project and how she’d been managing the fortress thus far. Her career was safe and Harmony Six would continue to get the support that it needed in order to fulfill its mandated purpose. That all represented a considerable weight off of her withers. Which wasn’t to say that some small amount of anxiety didn’t continue to occupy her gut. After all, the heart of Equestria’s leadership was still present on the island. If anything happened to either Fancy Pants or Neighsay while they were in Twilight’s care, the Cavalry would have to invent a new rank below private so that there was something suitably low enough to bust her down to as a fitting punishment. Twilight suspected that she wasn’t going to get a sound night’s sleep until the chancellor and vice chancellor were back aboard the Fleur De Lis and gone from sight over the horizon. Until then, the little unicorn would have to seek out ways to reduce her stress level in the hopes of at least getting relaxed enough to doze off for a few hours at a time between the inevitable panic attacks. Right now, a walk around Ponyville surrounded by other relaxed creatures seemed to be doing the trick— The mare’s ear twitched. She turned her head in the direction of the frustrated tones that she was picking up from nearby. “—just been standing there for hours, not saying a word!” A mare was saying, sounding equal parts frustrated and nervous. “He won’t tell me what he wants, won’t speak to anypony, won’t leave. He just…stares!” Her curiosity about the source of this latest disturbance piqued, Twilight headed in the direction of the commotion. She easily spotted the sable pegasus mare whose furtive expression marked her as the one with the issue. A unicorn stallion wearing a gray vest which identified them as one of Applejack’s MPs was patiently listening to the pegasus, a pad and pencil floating between them as he took notes on the mare’s complaint. “He hasn’t really bothered anypony, so I didn’t flag any of you down earlier,” the sable mare continued with her explanation to the security pony. “I didn’t want to make a scene and it’s not like it’s against any laws for somepony to just stand around. But I want to close up for the day and he’s still here and he won’t even acknowledge me when I try to tell him to go! “I don’t want him arrested or anything; I just want him out of the building so that I can go home,” the pegasus finished with something approaching an exasperated whine. She was clearly a pony who’d had a long day of her own. Twilight’s gaze drifted upwards to the sign hanging above the door. It was then that the purple unicorn realized that this wasn’t a store, per se, but rather one of the local offices for an Equestrian shipping company. It was where creatures could go in order to arrange for space on ships that were owned or leased by the company for transporting cargo, passengers, or even just mail. Twilight’s eyes then dropped to one of the windows which allowed her to see into the dimly-lit interior. The unicorn blinked in mild surprise. She recognized the stallion standing inside. They weren’t anypony that Twilight knew, specifically, but she did recall having seen them before. After all, it had only been a few hours ago. He even still had the boxes balanced on his back. It was the earth pony who’d collided with Agent Nightshade while they’d been showing Chancellor Fancy Pants through Ponyville. He was standing inside in the middle of the office, staring. It was hard to tell from outside, but it didn’t look to Twilight like the pony was staring at anything in particular. He was just…looking straight ahead of him. A considerable amount of time passed before Twilight even noticed him blink. The little purple unicorn detoured closer to the pair of ponies interacting outside the office. “What’s going on?” “Please just move along—” The unicorn stallion’s statement started with a hint of annoyance before he’d fully turned his head enough to see who it was that was approaching. The MP’s eyes locked first on Twilight’s deep blue uniform, then darted to the sleeves of her forelegs in search of her rank. When no chevrons were found there, the stallion’s gaze instantly moved up to Twilight’s shoulders, where they finally locked on to the silver owls framing the mare’s neck. Only then did the other unicorn finally seem to look at Twilight’s face. The MP’s features blanched noticeably, even in the dim evening light of the street lamps, and he quickly snapped to the position of attention. “Oh! Colonel Sparkle, ma’am; I didn’t realize it was you.” His hoof crossed over his chest in salute. Twilight patiently returned the gesture. “It’s no problem, corporal.” She nodded her head in the direction of the earth pony visible through the window. “What does he want?” The pegasus mare was the one who answered, looking somewhat more relieved upon seeing Twilight arrive. Likely because the office worker believed that if anypony could resolve an issue on the island, it was the pony in charge of the island. “Colonel, please, I just want that pony out of the building. He came in hours ago and hasn’t said one word the whole time. He just stands there, staring at the shipping schedule!” “Have you tried talking to him?” “Of course! I greeted him and everything when he first came in, but he basically ignored me,” the feathered mare insisted. “Some ponies are like that—you can’t work a customer-facing job and not deal with the occasional rude jerk—so I didn’t think much of it at the time. “But then he just kept on not moving or talking. I’d try to ask him if he wanted help every so often, but he never answered me even once! I had other customers to help and work to do, so I just started ignoring him too. Like I was telling the officer here,” the mare gestured towards the MP, “he hasn’t done anything wrong—I don’t think—and I don’t want him arrested or anything. “I just want him outside the office so I can lock up for the night,” the pegasus jabbed a wing at the ground, fixing Twilight with a pleading look. “Alright; we’ll go talk to him,” Twilight assured the other mare, giving the MP a quick glance. “You just wait out here. Corporal?” The unicorn nodded and fell into step behind the purple mare as she headed inside. The cyan earth pony didn’t so much as twitch or flick an ear as the pair entered the office. He just kept staring straight ahead. A quick glance by Twilight confirmed that the stallion was indeed looking rather intently at the posted list of vessels which the shipping company owned or chartered, along with the dates that they’d be leaving Harmony Fortress and what ports they were heading to. If the pony had given a name during their earlier brief encounter that day, Twilight didn’t remember it. Given how the mare outside had described her—non—interactions with the earth pony since his arrival, she suspected that no name had been provided to her or the MP either. But it was worth at least asking the question to make sure. She glanced at the uniformed stallion at her flank. “Do we know his name?” “No, ma’am.” Twilight shrugged and turned her attention back towards the earth pony. “Sir?” Perhaps unsurprisingly, she didn’t garner a response either. She supposed that she really shouldn’t have been surprised, given what she’d been told thus far. On the other hoof, Twilight had been on the island long enough to learn that creatures would often have a lot more to say to her than they would to just about anycreature else. After all: Twilight was the mare in charge. Many creatures took this to mean that, if they complained long—and especially loudly—enough to her, then the mare might do something about their issue. The purple unicorn stepped around the earth pony and positioned herself directly in his line of sight and repeated her query. “Sir? I’m Colonel Twilight Sparkle. Can we talk outside for a moment…?” Her words trailed off as she finally noticed the glassy quality of the cyan pony’s gaze. It looked distant and unfocused. Like he was lost in thought or caught up in a daydream. He certainly hadn’t heard anything that Twilight had just said. The unicorn MP stepped up beside her and peered at the other pony. “Pupils aren’t dilated or pinprick,” he noted aloud. “He’s not drunk or high,” Twilight provisionally agreed, before adding a qualifying: “At least, not on anything with visible effects like that.” The unicorn was running through a list of potions she knew of that might leave the imbiber in a similar disassociated state. There were a few that came to mind, but she dismissed them all as possible candidates for the stallion’s current state. None of the potions she could think of which could produce this level of apparent obliviousness to the world would permit the pony to stand under their own power at the same time. “He’s clearly under the effects of something,” the corporal said. “Maybe some new kind of drug?” “It’s possible,” Twilight conceded, though she didn’t like the idea of some unknown substance being available on her island, especially if it could affect ponies like this. There were less concerning possibilities though. After all, there were a lot of creatures that came through Harmony Fortress, and not all of their physiologies reacted the same way to the same substances. “He may also have just used some seasonings that he shouldn’t have,” she hoped. “Either way, we should get him to the clinic to be evaluated,” Twilight decided. “Sir, if you can hear us: we’re taking you to see a doctor to get checked out.” She reached out with a hoof and tried to guide the earth pony towards the door. The stallion started to turn with Twilight’s gentle push, but then abruptly stumbled and spun back around until they were once more staring wordlessly at the board. She frowned and tried one more time to pry the earth pony away, only to be met with the same lack of success. The unicorn MP with her soon lost patience with the other stallion. “Alright, buddy; we’re not playing this game anymore.” He lit his horn and wrapped the earth pony in his telekinetic field. “Time for you to leave.” He started to forcibly drag the presumably catatonic pony towards the door. In response, the earth pony started to try and drag themselves back to the posting board once more, though with only marginal success against the soldier’s stronger magical hold. It was still taking considerable effort to haul away the stubborn stallion though, if the MP’s grimace was any indication. If he kept fighting, somepony was going to get hurt. “Get ready to catch him,” Twilight warned the gray-vested unicorn. The moment she received a nod from him, she fired off a modestly-powered stun bolt at the earth pony, striking him directly between the eyes. Instantly, the cyan stallion went limp, sagging slightly in the magical field enveloping him. Twilight hesitated for a brief moment as she checked to ensure the stallion was indeed unconscious before using her own telekinesis to shift him across the back of the MP. “Let’s get him to the clinic so he can be checked out.” It wasn’t the ideal conclusion that Twilight might have hoped for, but the purple mare reasoned that it wasn’t the worst outcome either. The pegasus mare could close up her office and nopony had truly gotten hurt. There was still the matter of finding out what had caused the earth pony to act as he had though. Twilight was conflicted on whether or not she wanted to learn this was all the result of some new kind of drug. On the one hoof, that would provide for a ready explanation of the earth pony’s actions this evening. On the other hoof, Twilight did not want to have to deal with drug smuggling going through her island—especially not while the chancellor was present. Twilight wasn’t surprised to find that the clinic was still open. It was always open, as there was no telling when a creature might get hurt or fall seriously ill. What did surprise the fort’s commander was that Doctor Fluttershy was still the physician on duty, even at this late hour. “I work rotating shifts,” the pale yellow pegasus explained as Twilight and the security pony jointly levitated the unconscious earth pony onto the bed in one of the clinic’s examination rooms. “It helps me to get to know all of my staff, as well as all of our regular patients that work different shifts.” Doctor Fluttershy started to look over the cyan stallion, performing a basic cursory physical examination. She glanced at the pair of unicorns who’d brought her this latest patient. “What happened to him?” “We’re not completely sure,” Twilight responded for the both of them. “He wandered into a shipping office a few hours ago and started staring at the departure board.” She glanced at the MP to see if there was anything more that the other unicorn wanted to add, but he just nodded in agreement. “The mare working in the office tried telling him to leave so that she could close up for the night, but he ignored her. He wouldn’t react to either of us either. He didn’t answer us when we talked to him, or come with us when we tried to escort him out.” Fluttershy nodded, continuing with her examination. “Then he collapsed?” “No, I stunned him.” The pegasus mare paused for a moment, before glancing at Twilight out of the corner of her eye. “He wouldn’t talk to you, so you stunned him?” She let out a little huff before turning away from the purple mare and picking up a stethoscope with her wing. Twilight frowned. “I didn’t stun him just because he wouldn’t talk to—!” Her protests were interrupted by the doctor slipping the stethoscope over her ears and signalling for silence as she began her auscultations. The unicorn stifled her rebuttal, opting to silently fume instead. She took a breath before turning to speak to the unicorn stallion in low tones. “I think we’re good here, corporal. Go ahead and write up a report and then return to your duties. Limit the citation to a Section 3.01(c), ‘failure to comply’.” It was a minor offense under most circumstances, and could be settled by paying a modest fine. The pegasus office worker had said that she didn’t want to press any charges for the trespassing, and so Twilight wouldn’t. However, that didn’t change the fact that several other regulations had been violated on top of the trespassing. The corporal nodded and left. Twilight waited in silence for the physician to finish her evaluation. “His vitals all appear normal,” Fluttershy finally announced, slipping the stethoscope from her ears. “Take a blood sample to test for any drugs in his system,” Twilight told her. “When he wakes up, collect some urine too. I want to know if he was under the influence of anything.” Fluttershy made no move to comply with the unicorn’s orders. “...Is he one of your soldiers?” “No; he’s a civilian as far as I know.” “‘Failure to comply’ under a three-oh-one-see is a minor infraction when applied to civilians. It’s not sufficient to procure a warrant for blood,” the pegasus said. The doctor was technically correct, Twilight acknowledged. While Harmony Six was, first and foremost, a military installation and thus subject to military penal codes, it had been deemed to be unreasonable for the soldiers assigned to the island, and the civilians who happened to be living on it or passing through—especially the non-Equestrians—to be held to the same rigorous degree of harshness that was expected for soldiers. So provisions had been written into the codes that created lesser tiers of offenses for those civilians. Offenses that would have seen an enlisted pony getting serious punishments only incurred modest fines for civilians. This also meant that Twilight couldn’t treat civilians like they were one of her soldiers. Regulations allowed for a commander to order any soldier under their command to undergo a drug test to determine their fitness for duty at any time. However, that same latitude did not extend to the common pony—or creature—without her first being able to establish a sound reasoning as to why the test was needed. That being said, Twilight wasn’t really interested in using the results to further punish the stallion. She just wanted to know if there was something present on Harmony she needed to be aware of. Something to tell Applejack to be looking out for, or a reason to have Rarity’s customs ponies be more thorough in their searches of cargo. “I won’t have him charged if you find anything, doctor. I just want an explanation for his behavior.” “And I don’t want to violate my patient’s trust,” Fluttershy lightly rebuked. “You can ask him to submit to a voluntary screening when he wakes up. Or you can charge him with something more serious that would allow you to compel me to collect a sample.” There was the slightest hint of challenge in the otherwise soft-spoken voice. Twilight’s muzzle twisted into a slight frown but she elected not to push the issue. She wasn’t going to get into an argument with the physician over this, especially when she was forced to acknowledge that the doctor was correct where the letter of the regulation was concerned. Following the regulations was important, even if they happened to be inconvenient in the moment. “Very well, doctor. I’ll ask him when he wakes up.” The purple unicorn lit her horn and extended her magic towards the unconscious earth pony on the examination bed, dispelling the residual magic from her earlier stunning spell. Almost immediately, the stallion began to groan and stir on the bed as consciousness began to return to him. Fluttershy glanced at her out of the corner of her eye that wasn’t hidden away by her unbound mane but didn’t say anything. For her part, Twilight allowed herself a satisfied smirk. When the doctor saw the earth pony’s catatonic state, she’d be obliged to draw blood to perform tests on it in the hopes of determining a potential pharmacological cause, the unicorn reasoned. Doctor Fluttershy surely wouldn’t decline to provide treatment for a patient who was obviously suffering from the ill-effects of something. Those results would reveal the presence of any illicit substances in his system and Twilight would have her answer. The cyan stallion’s eyes fluttered open and he started to glance around the room. “W-wha…? Where am I? What happened?” His gaze locked onto Twilight first. “Colonel Sparkle?” Both ponies exchanged mutually-confused looks with one another, and largely for the same reason: neither had expected for the earth pony to ‘wake up’ in the clinic. Twilight’s own shock was very briefly replaced by a moment of frustration that her intended plan hadn’t worked out, but that feeling was quickly overshadowed as she realized that having access to a pony who was finally willing to talk with her would help get her the answers that she was after. “You’ve recovered. Good. I’d like to ask you some questions about what happened at the shipping office.” Twilight floated a quill and roll of parchment out of her saddlebag. “...Recovered? I was hurt?” The stallion glanced over at the nearby physician before giving the parts of his body that were visible a look. Finding no signs of wounds or bandaging, he amended his question. “Or sick?” “‘Catatonic’ is likely the most medically correct term to describe the condition you were found in,” Twilight supplied, giving the nearby pegasus mare a look as she sought confirmation. Fluttershy didn’t react, likely because she was unwilling to agree to a diagnosis based on symptoms that she hadn’t witnessed first-hoof. Instead, the physician began another brief examination of her patient, now that he was awake and—apparently, now—responsive. “What’s the last thing you remember?” “Remember?” The stallion’s features scrunched up in concentration as he sifted through his memories. “I was going home after some shopping…” he began, hesitantly. His words only became less sure sounding as he went on. “I…needed to leave?” He seemed to be searching Twilight’s face for confirmation of his own recounting of events, which only served to further frustrate the purple mare’s quest for answers. “Is that why you were at the shipping office? You were leaving the island?” “...But I live here,” the earth pony insisted. “Why would I leave? Where would I even go?” Twilight let out a mildly exasperated sigh. “I was hoping you could tell us. You were the one standing in the office for hours looking at the departure board.” “I don’t remember that.” “Clearly. Did you eat anything unusual today?” The unicorn asked, changing tacks. “Maybe stop somewhere for a few drinks?” “Nothing that I don’t usually have,” the stallion replied. “There’s a minotaur-run bistro near my apartment that I eat breakfast at, and then I grabbed lunch later at the Ponyville market. I don’t drink. At least, not anything that’s not water or juice,” he insisted. “Would you mind submitting to a drug test?” Twilight inquired, nodding her head in Fluttershy’s direction. “It’s possible that your food was tainted with something.” The fortress’ commander was willing to entertain the notion that the stallion hadn’t—knowingly—been operating under the influence of any mind-altering substances. It wasn’t impossible for him to have been exposed—either accidentally or intentionally—without his knowledge. Though Twilight didn’t yet have any worthwhile theories which would have explained the why of it. That could come later if anything was found. “I suppose that’s alright,” the stallion agreed. Then, a little more hesitantly, he asked, “Am I in trouble, colonel?” Twilight opened her mouth and was about to respond in the affirmative…but then stopped herself. She’d told the MP to write up a citation against the stallion, but that had been before she’d had a chance to speak with him. When she’d been working under the theory that he’d intentionally intoxicated himself somehow. However, now that she’d seen how the earth pony reacted upon being told of his earlier actions, she wasn’t so sure anymore. He could be lying, she supposed. Ponies involved in illegal activity often lied, after all. But if that was the case, then this stallion had missed out on receiving his cutie mark in theater, because his acting was extremely believable. “If your food or drink was tainted somehow, then no; you’re not in trouble,” Twilight assured him, making a mental note to tell the corporal outside to hold off on publishing the report and the citation until Fluttershy had concluded her tests. She looked at the pegasus in question. “Please let me know if you find anything concerning, doctor. If tainted food is indeed on the island, we need to know as soon as possible. Especially if it can cause creatures to behave erratically like that.” Harmony Fortress did have a few acres of arable land that allowed for the cultivation of some fruits and vegetables, but it wasn’t nearly enough to support the island’s entire population. Food needed to be shipped across the ocean constantly, and in large quantities. If some of those provisions had gone bad for some reason, they needed to know so that it could be confiscated and replaced. Quickly. Fluttershy nodded and started to collect the needles and tubes that she would need in order to perform the tests. “...I’ll let you know if anything is found that you need to know about, Colonel Sparkle.” She then turned a cool blue eye towards the unicorn. “If you’re done with your questions now, I’d like you to leave. He’s still my patient.” Twilight kept from saying anything in rebuttal in front of the earth pony civilian. The island’s population didn’t need to know about the friction between herself and the fortress’ senior medical official. Instead, she merely nodded and left. After having a brief conversation with the MP corporal about the report she wanted him to write, Twilight left the clinic entirely and started her journey back to The Citadel. Harmony Fortress had slid into its final period of increased activity for the day as the bars all started to close and disgorge their clientele into the street. The air was filled with the drunken caterwalling of poorly-pitched songs sung in unsynchronized choruses and slurred conversations between friends and lovers whose blood-alcohol content had robbed them of the ability to exchange words at anything quieter than a boisterous shout. Captain Applejack’s security ponies were doing their best to herd the ambling mass of revelers off of the streets and into their homes. After the exceptionally long day that she’d had—though one that had been perhaps more emotionally exhausting than strictly physical—Twilight was very much looking forward to getting back to her own bed. She’d want to be well-rested for the next day of chaperoning Chancellor Fancy Pants and his delegation. The visits with the dragons and the griffons were sure to be particularly draining, she was sure. Just the thought of listening to Ember and Gilda blaming each other for the state of the hostilities between their two nations was enough to make the unicorn groan aloud. “Now you look like a pony who’s in dire need of a cupcake. With extra sprinkles!” The purple mare jerked at the sound of the proclamation coming from nearby. Then she blinked in rapid succession as she stared at the pink-frosted cupcake that was being held right in front of her, taking up nearly all of her field of vision. Her gaze then darted to the equally pink hoof that was holding the pastry aloft, following it along the rest of the foreleg until she finally found its owner. “You!” “I!” Responded a familiar-looking grin. There was a pause, then: “Okay, your turn!” Twilight blinked again, the next words that she’d intended to say derailed by the rather unexpected follow-up from the pink-on-pink earth pony. What should have words focused on trying to get an identity out of the mare instead manifested themselves into a singular perplexed “...What?” “Oh, that’s wrong; but you were very close!” The mare, who was still holding up the cupcake, said. “You should have gone with: ‘why’.” “Why?” Twilight was unable to keep herself from echoing as her brain struggled to resolve where this conversation was heading. “Because it is sometimes,” came the nonplussed reply from the earth pony, as if the conversation were still flowing along an easily navigable path. The unicorn felt like she was still struggling though. “It’s what sometimes?” She desperately reached for clarification, hoping to find some way back towards comprehending what the other pony was talking about. “Oh, no; I don’t think it can be that any time.” “...What can’t be?” “Right!” “What’s right?” “No, ‘what’s wrong; I just told you that!” The pink mare replied, now looking at Twilight with a mildly concerned expression. “Are you feeling okay, Twilight?” Twilight closed her eyes and took a deep breath. She spent a few moments sifting through the preceding exchange of words that she categorically refused to qualify as being a ‘conversation’, lest word of her doing so got back to one of her professors at the university and they retroactively rescinded her literary degree for such an affront. Instead, the unicorn opted to promptly discard the whole affair as being utterly unintelligible. Her hoof came up and started to massage her temple as she finally released a long-suffering sigh. “I think I’m starting to get a headache…” she muttered under her breath. “Oh. Well then you should go back into the clinic and get looked at,” the earth pony unhelpfully suggested with what sounded like complete sincerity, bereft of even a hint of sarcasm. “You probably should have mentioned it while you were in there having that stallion checked out.” “How did you—?” Twilight cut her own question off mid-sentence. If the unknown mare had been close enough to see her come out and—apparently—had been specifically waiting for her in order to deliver the cupcake, then it stood to reason that the earth pony had watched all three of them enter the clinic in the first place. “Who are you?” The pink mare waved her hoof at Twilight. “Woah; hey! You can’t go tossing that question around just yet; we’re not at that point in the story.” “...What?” “Besides, there’s way more important questions you should be asking creatures before we get to that one!” The earth pony insisted, flashing Twilight a broad grin. “I remember you from my first day on the island,” the purple unicorn desperately tried to restart the conversation that she’d intended from the moment she’d realized who the pony holding the cupcake was. “I’ve been trying to find you, so that I could compensate you for all of those pastries. I can’t accept gifts,” Twilight explained, her magic already flipping up the lid of one of her saddlebags. She didn’t carry around a lot of bits as a general rule, since there wasn’t a lot that she needed to actually buy in the way of daily necessities, but she’d be able to write out a voucher that could be redeemed at the quartermaster’s office for fair compensation in hard currency. The earth pony’s expression shifted into one of abject horror. It was as though the mare had been sent physically reeling by the fortress commander’s words. “You can’t accept gifts?! That’s horrible!” It was difficult to tell if the pink pony was more outraged at the revelation, or if she was simply expressing indignation on Twilight’s behalf. In either case, the exclamations were loud enough to draw quite a few annoyed stares from those inebriated enough to take exception to unnecessarily boisterous noises. “That means you haven’t had any birthday presents! Or Hearth’s Warming presents! Or Mare’s Day presents! Or Unification Day presents—I know that one doesn’t involve gift-giving usually, but the hypothetical opportunity still exists!” The mare hastily amended before diving back into her verbal list. “What about Yule Day? Or your Cuteceañera? Or Nightmare Night? “You’ve never gotten gifts for any of them in your whole life?!” The earth pony produced parchment and a wax crayon and began to scribble. “I’m going to need to work a lot of overtime if I’m going to make up the deficit before I leave…” Twilight forgot about the voucher amid the onslaught of questions, “I meant professionally!” She protested. Then her mind caught up to the—nearly—all-encompassing list that had been rattled out and she blinked once more before narrowing her eyes at the pink mare. “...Why didn’t you mention Hearts and Hooves Day?” The pink mare poked her head up from behind the parchment, her previously pained features flowing seamlessly into a knowing look. Nothing was said aloud. She simply regarded the unicorn with a slight quirk of her lips and a held stare whose meaningfulness felt as though it gained considerable weight by virtue of being offered over the top of the parchment still hiding most of her features. Twilight felt her cheeks flush, her mouth opening and closing wordlessly for several excruciatingly long seconds. “Give me your name,” she didn’t quite growl once she found her voice again, her telekinesis resuming its search for a quill and roll of parchment within her saddlebag. “Do I have to? I’m kind of using it right now,” the other mare quipped, her lips pulled into a broad, teasing, smile. “Plus, I got it from my mother so it holds a lot of sentimental value for me.” The purple unicorn glared now, her patience wearing thin. “I need it.” “Why? What’s wrong with the one you already have?” The innocent-sounding mare asked with an impressively earnest expression. “Personally, I think ‘Twilight Sparkle’ sounds really nice! Certainly way better than ‘Black Snooty’…” “...Your name is: Black Snooty?” Twilight asked hesitantly, her eyes wandering over the body of the pink-on-slightly-darker-pink coat and mane of the earth pony standing in front of her. The unicorn realized that she hadn’t seen the cupcake from earlier in a while, but that tidbit of information didn’t quite register on a significantly conscious level as she kept trying to navigate the winding exchange she was having with this stranger. Heavy emphasis on the leading syllable. “Of course not; that’d be a ridiculous name for a pony like me to have!” The earth pony deflected with a snort. “I’m much more of a Periwinkle Booty,” she snickered, giving her hind end a little wiggle. Before Twilight could comment one way or the other, the mare was suddenly standing right beside her, a foreleg draped over the colonel’s withers as the unicorn was drawn in close for a conspiratorial-style stage whisper. “Between you and me: I ‘taste-test’ way too many of my own cupcakes; if you know what I mean?” The earth pony’s nearest baby blue eye gave an exaggerated wink. Twilight jerked and took several steps to the side in order to free herself of the invasion of her personal space. “...Periwinkle is actually more blue than pink,” was all she managed to idly say, her thoughts otherwise too preoccupied with trying to fathom how the earth pony had moved so fast as to be right up on the unicorn in less than a heartbeat. “Really? Huh. Weird. Because that name just sounds pink; you know what I mean? Like, I can’t hear it and not think about something pink. Like chartreuse!” “That’s more of a yellow—” Twilight snapped her muzzle shut with an audible smack before shaking her thoughts vigorously back into order. She glared at the earth pony, her magic lancing back into her saddlebag once more, in search of writing materials. “Tell me your name!” Twilight was all but seething now, at her wit’s end with this mare’s shenanigans. The unicorn had half a mind to call out for assistance from an MP in order to have the pony taken into custody; except that Twilight couldn’t think of any charges that could have been levied—if only provisionally—to justify the detainment. ‘Being flighty’ wasn’t something covered in the fort’s judicial code. Twilight made a note to send a request back to Canterlot to have the statutes amended in order to correct the oversight… “Chartreuse is yellow? Well that’s disappointing. Why can’t the words that sound pink actually be pink? I’d have loved to be associated with a word like ‘puce’...” The earth pony muttered in a dejected tone. “Puce is a shade of pink—” Twilight corrected automatically before she finally lost her patience with her fruitless efforts to find her quill. She knew that she’d packed it earlier! She wrenched the saddlebag from her back and held it open in front of herself so that she could physically look inside. “—Where is my quill?!” “Here, you can use this one,” the earth pony said, holding out a scarlet quill resting upon her hoof. Twilight glanced up and saw the offered writing implement. “...Thank you,” she said reluctantly, taking up the feather in her magic. Then her eyes narrowed as she started to scrutinize the all-too-familiar-looking quill. “...Hey! This is mine!” The purple unicorn looked up and glared…at a vacant section of road where she could have sworn there had been a pink earth pony standing only a moment ago. Her head whipped around from one direction to the other, but Twilight wasn’t able to spot any sign of what should have been a profoundly visible pony, even considering the late hour. There didn’t seem to be any sign of her, or an indication of which direction the mare had gone. Twilight spent a few moments fuming at the fact that the pink earth pony had managed to effectively vanish as if by magic a second time before floating the quill into her open saddlebag. That was when the unicorn hesitated, her eyes narrowing slightly as she beheld something within that she didn’t recognize. Something that she was certain hadn’t been in the bag earlier in the day: a piece of parchment that had been folded into a cube. Cautiously, Twilight extracted the paper box, holding it aloft with her telekinesis. She vaguely recognized the technique which had been used to create the paper craft as being a form of traditional art practiced by the kirin. The purple unicorn noted that the little box had some weight to it—not a lot, but there was clearly something inside of the little container. So she used her magic to carefully unfold the parchment… …And revealed the same cupcake with pink frosting and liberally covered in sprinkles which had been offered to her by the earth pony earlier. Twilight’s lip quirked up into a resigned smile. It seemed that disappearing into thin air wasn’t the only feat of magic which the earth pony was capable of performing. Filching the unicorn’s quill and planting a confection into her saddlebag without the little purple mare being any the wiser was an impressive enough accomplishment to—narrowly—outweigh her annoyance. Now that she’d been granted a moment to process their interaction, Twilight had to wonder if the pink pony’s intent hadn’t been to intentionally frustrate her in order to keep Twilight distracted by her own annoyance. Distracting the mark was ‘Slight-of-Hoof 101’. And Twilight had fallen for it without hesitation, because it hadn’t occurred to her to suspect any sort of ulterior motive from the baker. She’d know better for next time—something inside Twilight simply knew that there would indeed be a ‘next time’. Deciding that there wasn’t likely to be any lasting harm in it—and the cupcake smelled very good—Twilight took a bite. Just as with all of the pastries from that first encounter, it was one of the best cupcakes that the unicorn had ever had. The unicorn was mid-chew when she noticed that there was something written on the unfolded parchment still clutched in her magic. Curious, the mare’s telekinetic field smoothed out the paper and she read over the words: You’re not asking the right creatures the right questions. Why are you here? Twilight couldn’t help but feel that the nominally cryptic message lost something of its intended weight due to the fact that it was written in pink crayon. Still, there was something to be said for not discounting offered information simply due to its appearance. While the earth pony was clearly excentric—which felt like a considerable understatement after this most recent interaction—there was something more to her than meets the eye. She had managed to avoid all of Captain Applejack’s attempts to locate her for several weeks after all. “Why am I here?” Twilight murmured under her breath as she folded away the parchment into her saddlebag and resumed making her way back to The Citadel. It was a simple-sounding question with an obvious answer: Twilight was at Harmony Six because she’d been assigned here as its commander. As for why she’d been granted the assignment: it had been presented to her as something of a reward. Her actions at White Tail had seen her branded as a ‘war hero’ during Equestria’s war with the zebras. Surviving the Battle of Canterhorn Mountain had also served to further inflame her ‘legend’ within the Cavalry. Promotions had come quickly as a result. Most of her peers were the better part of a decade her senior in age, as well as rank. There were paltry few commands available for a pony of her rank as a result. Not without stepping on the hooves of more senior colonels with powerful friends in the Cavalry and the government. Twilight had been staring at the strong possibility of winding up on the staff of some general—hardly a terrible fate for an officer, but certainly nothing befitting ‘The Hero of White Tail’. So, when Harmony Fortress had completed construction…she’d been given the—dubious—honor of being made the distant island fort’s commanding officer. She was a new colonel with a garrison command. It was practically fast-tracking her for brigadier! What other reason for the assignment could there be if not as a way to help propel a star officer up through the ranks? Though, as fate would have it, there was hardly better timing available to the unicorn than right now to seek confirmation of her theory: she had the chancellor within hoof-reach, after all. While Fancy Pants hardly made the assignment decisions for all of Equestria’s military installations, Harmony was his project. He was bound to have had a say in who was placed in command here. Or at least final approval of anypony suggested by the Cavalry’s leadership. He’d know why Twilight was here if anypony did— …asking the right creatures… Twilight paused midstep as she ran the message’s words through her mind once more. She even spared a moment to reread the parchment to be sure she wasn’t misremembering them. Not ponies; creatures… After that conversation—which was a descriptor that Twilight was still only provisionally using to refer to that exchange—the unicorn wasn’t so sure that the pink mare was the sort to pick her words without special care. She wasn’t being inclusive for the sake of political correctness, Twilight didn’t think. She’d been suggesting that the one who held the actual answer wasn’t a pony. The first place that Twilight’s eyes darted to after that thought entered her head was to the airship moored at the top of The Citadel. The alicorns would certainly have had the diplomatic pull to influence the selection process, she supposed. Of course, Twilight couldn’t come up with any reason why the alicorns might want her here specifically. That didn’t mean that the alicorns hadn’t had a reason. Deciding that she wasn’t going to come up with any meaningful answers standing around Ponyville in the middle of the night, Twilight finished her cupcake and headed for her quarters. She’d find the time to ask the chancellor about some of the details behind her appointment. Then she might have some inkling as to why the reason for her being sent to Harmony Six would even matter. Twilight recognized that Harmony Fortress was an important posting, and that its commanding officer would be in a position to wield a lot of influence; but what exactly was she going to accomplish here that no other reasonably competent officer could? What made Twilight so special? Author's Note Can you even cast a foreshadow at night? As always, a thumbs up and comment are greatly appreciated If you like the cover art and want to see more stories get them, I've set up a Cover Art Fund if you're interested and have any bits lying around!
Chapter 11: Spider in the WebIf Twilight didn’t know for a fact that magic which manipulated time didn’t exist, she would have seriously considered checking to see if an enchantment had been placed upon the island which was affecting its flow. Because the last week had passed the unicorn by in the blink of an eye, while also lasting for seventeen consecutive eternities. The first eternity of monotonous unending torment had been inflicted upon her psyche during the second morning of Chancellor Fancy Pants’ visit, within the walls of the Griffonian Republic’s embassy. The second had been endured after lunch in the Dragon Lands embassy. Twilight knew in her soul that both of those gatherings had lasted for several painful eons; and yet she could not presently recall even a single detail about either of them. She only reasoned that she’d attended them because her day planner had those gatherings checked off and she was positive that, had she been anywhere else, she would have memories of that elsewhere. Even if she had slept through that entire day, the mare was confident that she would have recalled at least one of her dreams. Meetings, conferences, speeches, tours, and parties. A whirlwind cavalcade of official events that had been packed in as tightly as possible in order to take advantage of the chancellor’s physical presence on Harmony Fortress to the fullest; and Twilight had been at the stallion’s side throughout very nearly all of it, except for where her own duties occasionally required her to be elsewhere. Yet, in defiance of all expectations, despite being in Fancy Pants’ presence for the next best thing to the entirety of a whole week, Twilight hadn’t been able to share a meaningful conversation with the other unicorn and inquire about the details of how it was that she’d ultimately been chosen to command the first functional Harmony Fortress. She’d only managed to successfully broach the topic just once during his visit, and the stallion’s response had been a less-than-fulfilling: “You came highly recommended!” before he’d been pulled back into another discussion with a foreign delegation. Twilight hadn’t been able to extract any details regarding precisely who it was that had recommended her to the chancellor, and so she knew nothing which might help her to construct a list of likely suspects. If there was one thing in the little purple mare’s life that she hadn’t lacked for, it was letters of recommendation. Professors, senior officers, librarians…plenty of ponies were willing to vouch for Twilight's competency and character. But that was just the thing: “plenty of ponies…” "Iasking the right creatures" The pink earth pony’s cryptic message suggested that there had been an individual who wasn’t a pony who might have the answers she was after, but that didn't make any sense. Twilight hadn't even formally met any non-ponies of any real note prior to arriving on the island. So unless that one kirin exchange student Twilight had helped to source some asbestos blankets in her sophomore year had turned out to be a highly-placed political figure with a keen interest in Twilight’s not-then-existent military career… As Colonel Twilight Sparkle watched the Fleur De Lis’ topgallants finally vanish beyond the curve of the horizon, the little purple unicorn let out a final defeated sigh. It looked like she was going to have to content herself with drafting a letter to the chancellor and hope that Fancy Pants was willing to divulge more details in a response. Or she could try to get a word in edgewise the next time that pink baker made an appearance. She was less convinced that she’d be able to get answers that way. If the earth pony had had those answers, then surely she’d have just provided them in her note. Right? Or was it that the mare simply derived more entertainment from seeing Twilight’s visible frustration? …It could very likely be the latter. With ‘Equestria One’ no longer in sight, Twilight allowed her attention to drift to the only other visible ship that suggested it was worthy of note at the moment. At least where her own duties on Harmony were concerned. A paddle-steamer flying the flag of the Griffonian Republic just above a pennant which marked it as an official diplomatic courier, was on its final approach to the Mission Docks. No doubt she would be hearing about the news that it was bringing during tomorrow’s Council meeting. The wider world had not seen fit to sit idly by and maintain the status quo while Fancy Pants had been visiting Harmony. Twilight’s morning briefings with her staff had contained periodic updates regarding the mounting hostilities between the griffons and the dragons. The latter had been rapidly building up and fortifying Rock Haven Island. What had once been a hatching ground for the dragons in ages past was now being repurposed into a clear launching point for future seizures of nearby islands that were still held by the Republic. The only real question that Twilight had at this point was whether or not Ember was going to bother throwing together any more pretexts for those invasions beyond: “we want them, and we finally have the means to seize them”. Honestly, it had reached the point where the unicorn would have respected the blunt candor of the dragons simply coming out and announcing that they intended to annex every island in the Scaly Archipelago because they regarded the region as their rightful ancestral territory. It would have perhaps been more realpolitik than most seasoned diplomats wanted to pretend they were, but there would have been a refreshing directness to it that Twilight was finding she missed. In the military, written orders were always very plain and direct. They articulated exactly what the objectives were, how they were to be achieved, where the operation was to take place, and who was supposed to perform each specific part of it. Those versions of the orders that were disseminated at the higher echelons even outlined the reasoning and specific intent behind the drafting of the order. Everything was spelled out in exacting detail, and there was never any underlying motive that was going unspoken. Diplomacy was…nothing like that, in Twilight’s experience thus far. The more she read of the theory behind it in her books, the more clear that became. But, as much as the unicorn might not particularly like how the posturing during negotiations was conducted, she was slowly becoming adept at understanding it. Ember didn’t want to come right out and blatantly acknowledge that the goal of the Dragon Lands was to ultimately annex all of their ancestral islands because that would have been tantamount to a declaration of war against the Griffonian Republic, who presently exercised de facto—and they’d argue de jure—control over many of those islands. For the moment, the griffons were mostly preoccupied with using their military to molest their other neighbors. That would change if the dragons laid their intentions out in the open. The Republic would almost certainly immediately abandon all of their machinations elsewhere in order to concentrate their forces on countering the dragons’ aggression. If for no other reason than because it would offer them an opportunity to reoccupy the entirety of the Scaly Archipelago if they emerged victorious. Ember might be inclined to disagree, but Twilight couldn’t help but feel that the dragons were only making as much headway as they were in their operations simply because they were putting the entirety of military up against far-flung nominal anti-marauding garrisons that weren’t being supported by the Republic's naval fleets. So far, there hadn’t been any direct confrontations between the navies of the griffons and the dragons. The unicorn was less certain than the ambassador seemed to be about how well an actual battle would go for the dragons. Although it certainly didn’t look like there was going to be one any time soon. If Equestria’s information sources were to be believed, then the Republic didn’t appear to be doing much to counter the military build-up on Rock Haven Island. A small flotilla of griffon ships had been cobbled together in the region and dispatched towards the archipelago, but most of them were reportedly troop transports. There were a few smaller warships that would serve well as escorts for those transports, but certainly nothing that would be able to meaningfully assist in any sort of assault against a fortified and dug-in defender. Twilight assumed that they were intended as additional garrisons for some of the Republic’s other island holdings in the region. She just hoped that those ships left those islands carrying as many civilians as possible away from the potential fighting. In her estimation, unless and until the Republic chose to cut their losses with the kirin and the hippogriffs and redistribute their warships, they were going to continue to lose territory to the dragons. Frankly, given some of Ember’s comments during the function that she’d hosted for Fancy Pants, it had sounded to Twilight like Dragon Lord Torch was interested in setting up some additional ‘depth’ around their islands after they’d finished reclaiming the entirety of their ancestral lands. Depth which included at least one island that the Republic had held for the better part of five hundred years; and that no dragon had ever set claw on in the recorded history of any race. Twilight wasn’t sure how the dragons intended to frame any sort of justification for such an operation. Though maybe that was the point when the dragons would stop bothering to obfuscate their intentions and simply submit their formal declaration of war against the Republic, intended to do to the griffons what was done to them. The small purple mare heaved a despondent sigh and turned away from the observation deck’s railing, returning to The Citadel’s interior. Now was as good a time as any to work on that letter to the chancellor. Colonel Twilight Sparkle didn’t know everything. The little purple unicorn knew a lot, thanks to her many years spent pursuing higher education; but there was a lot that she didn’t know. If anything, her rough decade spent in academia had taught her far more about how much she didn’t know. If only because it had allowed her to glimpse the true vastness that was the sum total knowledge accumulated by all of the creatures of the world across their respective recorded histories. Twilight was only one mare and she only had one life to live. That math wasn’t hard to work out: she simply didn’t have enough time to learn everything. Even so, she didn’t let that objective impossibility disillusion her desire to learn all that she could with the time that she did have. Even if much of that learning took place in ‘less formal’ settings. Having a diploma from an accredited institution which certified her expertise on a subject was nice; but there wasn’t much point in acquiring those diplomas for subjects that she didn’t seek to pursue professions in. Twilight wasn’t going to make a career out of being a diplomat. So she had no intentions of pursuing degrees in political science, communications, equinities, psychology, behavioral science, or law, in order to make her a more effective negotiator. Which wasn’t to say that she intended to learn nothing about how to be good at her job. She was reading treatises on those subjects written by every renowned academic expert that she could get her hooves on—regardless of the author’s species—as well as several memoirs and a few core textbooks associated with those aforementioned degree paths. The mare doubted that she’d learn everything there was to know about being a good diplomat before her tenure as Harmony Six’s commanding officer came to an end in a couple years, but she believed that she could learn enough. There was quite a bit to be said for the efficacy of ‘on the job training’. Her military career had prepared her for that much. The cold reality of military service was that it took a lot of time to train somepony to be an expert at their assigned task. Service contracts were often for only a few years. Every additional month spent keeping a soldier in a training environment was a month that the soldier wasn’t actually doing that job, and it was one less month that they would have to do that job before finishing their contract and leaving the service. It was more cost-effective—and time-efficient—to teach a soldier just enough about what their specific job was to keep them from being a liability and then toss them into their duty, hoping that they might achieve something approaching ‘expertise’ as they floundered along. That was more or less how things had gone with Twilight’s assignment to Harmony: her career up to that point had taught her the management skills necessary to run a command on the island’s scale, and she possessed sufficient decorum to—hypothetically—not utterly embarrass herself during a Council meeting. The rest she would learn as she went. As it turned out, picking up the procedural aspects of diplomacy had been rather easy. After all, there were all sorts of protocols and policies related to official negotiations which had been written down. All Twilight had had to do was read them and apply them the way she’d been applying Cavalry Regulations her whole career. Dealing with the other representatives had been the trickier part. Equestria possessed dossiers on nearly all of the diplomats and ambassadors that the other nations had sent to Harmony Six which detailed what was known about their careers and personal histories. It had provided Twilight with at least some insight into who she would be negotiating with. But those dossiers had hardly been anything like manuals. Twilight couldn’t have known how any given representative would vote on a proposal or react to the wording of any given resolution put before the Council. She could guess, based on specific information that she was provided with prior to resolutions being put on the docket, but that wasn’t the same as knowing. It left far more variables at play than the unicorn generally liked dealing with. However, Twilight had managed to gain some additional knowledge about the creatures that she was working with in Council meetings during her few months on Harmony Fortress as a result of her ‘on the job training’ which hadn’t been presented to her in an intelligence brief. For example: she had learned that the Mulan ambassador brought coffee to meetings when his government had sent instructions for him to vote against his personal preferences. He liked his drink to match his mood. If the Kirean ambassadors weren’t actively smoking just a little bit, then they weren’t actually as upset by a proposal as their loud blustering might otherwise suggest. With diamond dogs, Twilight looked at their tails. For Saddle Arabians, she listened for whether the delegates used the high-formal or low-formal honorifics when commenting on proposals put forward by another nation to judge whether they actually supported the measure or were simply paying lip-service for the sake of appearances. In a lot of ways, it was like looking for ‘tells’ at a poker game. Though the fact that the ‘chips’ in this particular ‘pot’ were the livelihoods and wellbeing of millions of creatures across the world rendered the ‘game’ analogy far less amusing for the unicorn… Colonel Twilight Sparkle didn’t know everything; but she knew enough to be able to identify what most of the representatives’ various moods would herald during a meeting. Case in point: when Ambassador Gilda of the Griffonian Republic walked into the Council chamber with a broad smile on her beak and a lively bounce in her step, Twilight knew that her day was about to take a thoroughly unpleasant turn. The known list of things which brought the griffon ambassador the currently displayed level of joy was a short one, and the unicorn didn’t particularly care for any of the items on it. The little purple mare’s gaze darted reflexively towards Ambassador Ember. While not everything in the griffon representative’s world actually revolved around the dragons, it was often the safest bet to at least make that initial assumption. According to Major Rarity, there was a thin line between love and hate; and her XO occasionally attempted to lighten the mood during discussions about the two ambassadors by suggesting that, under different circumstances, the two belligerents’ actions might actually have been covering up for a shared intense carnal desire for one another. The look that Ember was shooting at her griffon counterpart at the moment was indeed ‘intense’. And while Twilight didn't note any of the usual indications of amorous intent in the dragoness' gaze, the unicorn was aware of several species of animal which existed where that sort of look might indeed herald a desire for a certain kind of sexual relation. She had once witnessed a snake performing an act of sexual cannibalism during the war. “Colonel Sparkle!” Ambassador Gilda greeted as she plopped herself down comfortably at the chamber’s main table. “How how you been since the party? Trendy Pants make it back to Equestria yet?” She reclined languidly in her seat. The hen’s satisfied smile put Twilight in mind of the expression: ‘like the cat who’d caught the canary’, and briefly wondered if the griffons possessed a similar metaphor. The unicorn couldn’t imagine that they used the version ponies did, given their dual feline-avian nature, but she was hesitant to ask lest she come off as sounding…impolotique. “Fancy Pants,” Twilight lightly corrected the griffon on reflex. “And it’s only been three days since he left; it’ll still be some time before his ship reaches Equestria.” The unicorn noted that other representatives were still filing into the room, so there would still be a little more time before their day’s deliberations began. Time enough for her to try and get a reason for the Republic ambassador’s uncharacteristically good mood…and an idea of how bad of a taste it was going to leave in her mouth later. “You seem to be in high spirits, ambassador. Good news from home?” Twilight recalled the courier ship which had docked the other day. “Great news, actually!” Gilda confirmed, all but purring as she spoke. Her golden eyes sparkled as they darted in Ember’s direction. “And I just can’t wait to share it with all of you… “—In fact!” The griffon sat up and reached into her satchel, withdrawing a small roll of parchment and extending it towards Twilight in her talons. “I’d like to amend today’s proceedings with some new business. “I know it’s late notice,” Gilda acknowledged with what was an objectively appropriate amount of deference in her tone—but was a previously unheard of quantity for the griffon, “but I wanted to confirm a few details with my government and make certain that everything was in order before it was made official.” Twilight hesitated for a moment before finally lighting her horn and accepting the scroll. This display of decorum from the usually much more abrasive ambassador was…disconcerting, if she was being honest. She unfurled the parchment and scanned its contents. It was a formal request to reserve the first fifteen minutes of the day’s deliberations in order to: ‘deliver a formal announcement’. Exactly what it was that Gilda wanted to announce wasn’t specified, but that wasn’t unusual in and of itself with these sorts of requests. Frankly, the only ‘unusual’ aspect of any of this was that Ambassador Gilda was giving official notice at all. Her typical modus operandi for delivering her ‘announcements’—formal or otherwise—during a Council meeting was to simply yell them out whenever the mood struck her. As hesitant as Twilight was to cede Gilda the floor at the very opening of deliberations, the unicorn understood enough psychology to recognize that the spontaneous demonstration of correct behavior in a usually disruptive individual shouldn't be discouraged. Rewarding correct behavior typically led to further correct behavior. If the Republic’s ambassador was actually going to go through the effort of drafting formal requests and abide by the proper protocols for offering her statements to the Council, then Twilight wasn’t going to risk curtailing this positive change in demeanor by rebuking the griffon just because the request was being made a little later than was strictly preferred. Besides, what harm could Gilda realistically accomplish with fifteen minutes of talking? “Very well, ambassador,” the unicorn said as her magic rolled the scroll back up and floated it over to her other notes on the table, “the first fifteen minutes will be yours.” “Sweet! This is going to be good.” Once more, the griffon’s eyes lingered on the silently fuming Ambassador Ember. Twilight instantly regretted everything that she had thought and said over the last two minutes. But…she had made her assurances already, and so she was committed to the mistake. Mentally, the unicorn resolved that, should she ever give the griffon the benefit of the doubt again, she should probably be committed. After all, repeating a mistake in the desperate hope of seeing it result differently was a sign of insanity… The little purple unicorn took her seat beside Ambassadors Zecora and Celestia and took a deep, cleansing, breath. Whatever Ambassador Gilda had to say would simply have to be weathered. Fortunately, there wasn’t much that the mare could think of that the Republic could do that would be too disruptive to the world at large—certainly when compared to what they were already doing. More than likely, the griffon just intended to make some threats or deliver some sort of ultimatum that was intended to leverage more of their neighbors for concessions. Twilight resigned herself to spending the better part of the next hour slamming her hoof on the table to restore order to the chamber, but that wouldn’t be too far removed from how she spent most of these sessions, to be honest. After the last of the expected representatives finally shuffled in and took their seats Twilight Sparkle cleared her throat. “Good morning, everycreature; I’ll now call this session to order.” She tapped her hoof smartly on the stained marble block in front of her that was present for that purpose. “I will start by announcing a slight change to the day’s docket. “Ambassador Gilda has formally requested the first fifteen minutes of today’s meeting in order to deliver a formal announcement on behalf of the Griffonian Republic.” The reaction from the other delegates was a mixture of surprise which mirrored Twilight’s own—that Gilda would have bothered with making a formal request at all—and general unease. The Republic rarely announced anything that other creatures liked. “Ambassador, the floor is yours,” the unicorn stated, managing to keep most of the dread out of her tone. “Thank you, Colonel!” The gold and ivory griffon stood up from her seat, her beak spread in a wide grin as her eyes slid across the room. “I would actually like to start off by asking a question.” Her gaze settled on the azure dragoness sitting—and glaring—across from her. “Ambassador Ember…” Her talons reached back into her satchel and withdrew another scroll. She held it up for all to see. “...This is a letter from my government, thanking the dragons for ‘looking after’ Ragnar Island for the Republic…” The griffon hen’s sickly sweet smile dropped away in an instant, falling into a scowl before she tossed the scroll at the dragoness. Ember made no effort to catch the roll of parchment as it sailed past her and fell to the floor. “...Your dragons there have three days to leave. Our citizens are returning to their homes there.” Ambassador Ember pursed her lips now, narrowing her eyes at the griffon as she studied the hen’s features. There was a brief moment of uncertainty—brief enough that Twilight wasn’t convinced that she’d actually seen it at first—but then the dragoness’ features firmed up and she resumed glaring at the griffon. “...No.” Gilda’s scowl was gone. She wasn’t smiling again—not quite—but the corner of her beak had turned up into a smirk that concerned Twilight. “‘No’? I thought you dragons agreed that you’d leave Ragnar Island if and when the Republic asked you to?” “It’s been months and the Republic hasn’t shown any interest in returning to the island,” Ember replied evenly. “The Dragon Lands actually have some pretty liberal adverse possession laws. Under the provisions of our legal code, Ragnar Island was officially recognized as ‘abandoned’ several weeks ago. “So we annexed it,” Ember stated with a shrug of her folded arms. “I can draft a formal proclamation to that effect if you really want one.” Twilight Sparkle braced herself for an outraged tirade on the part of the griffon. Instead, something far more unsettling happened: Gilda smiled again. The Republic ambassador reached back into her satchel again and took out a third bound scroll. This one she tossed at Twilight, who deftly caught it in her magic. The unicorn was in the process of unfurling it when Gilda revealed its contents to the whole Council, all the while wearing a satisfied smile on her face. “Well, under our laws, the Republic still sees both Ragnar Island and Rock Haven Island as our sovereign territory. We made a formal—diplomatic—request for it to be peacefully returned to us,” she gestured in the direction of the scroll laying on the floor that Ember had refused to accept, “and that request was refused. “This illegitimate annexation of Republic territory will not be tolerated by my government,” Gilda continued, “and we regard it as a hostile act, as well as a de facto ‘act of war’ on the part of the dragons.” The griffon’s words had grown progressively sharper and colder as she spoke. Yet there was an unmistakable quality of satisfaction to them. Gilda had been hoping that things would go this way. Twilight Sparkle finished reading the contents of the scroll floating in front of her, and felt a cold lump form in the pit of her stomach. Beside her, Ambassadors Zecora and Celestia each craned their heads in order to glance at what the parchment said. The unicorn adjusted it so that the two of them could share in her horror. The rest of the room’s delegates were clued into the scroll’s contents by the griffon’s next words: “The Griffonian Republic is left with no other recourse but to formally declare war on the Dragon Lands.” Unsurprisingly, every delegate in the chamber had something to say about that, and they all strived to say it at the same time, and at a preemptively higher volume than whatever their neighbors might attempt to achieve. The large room was very quickly filled with an unintelligible din that persisted for several ear-splitting seconds before Twilight was even aware of it. The unicorn was still mentally reeling from hearing the scroll’s words uttered aloud. “Or—order…Order!” The little purple unicorn finally managed to stammer out, eventually even achieving a volume with both shouted word and stomping hoof that overcame the cacophony and reached enough ears to begin settling down the other delegates. “You’re not serious?” Ambassador Ember said, once the room had quieted enough for her to be heard clearly. The dragoness was staring incredulously at her Republic counterpart. Her lip pulled back into a slightly bemused smile. “Your navy isn’t anywhere near our islands.” Twilight doubted that anycreature missed the stressing of the possessive. “Meanwhile, our forces—” “—Aren’t at Rock Haven Island anymore.” Gilda cut off the dragon with a light chuckle which belied no actual mirth. “At least, there were no dragons there to oppose our forces when they landed on the island five days ago.” Ember’s jaw slammed shut with an audible sound. Her eyes briefly widened in shock, before then narrowing at the griffon, her lip pulling back into a sneer. “You launched a surprise attack on our—?!” “We didn’t attack anything,” Gilda cut the other ambassador off again, flicking her talons dismissively at Ember’s assumption. “Until just now, there wasn’t a formal declaration of war,” Gilda waved at the scroll that Twilight still held aloft in her magic, “any sort of actual attack by our forces would have violated several international agreements. “The Republic is a civilized nation that honors the treaties it signs.” If Gilda heard the indignant mutterings from the delegates representing the nations that the Republic was currently harassing, she gave no visible sign. “One of our scouts flying by the area noticed that none of your ships or garrisons were on Rock Haven anymore. We assumed you pulled them back home, and moved our soldiers back onto our island.” She leaned forward and grinned at the dragoness. “We didn’t have to fire a shot.” “You’re lying.” There was the faintest hint of a tremble in the dragoness’ words. The assertion being made by the griffon ambassador was so outrageous on the face of it, that it seemed as though the hen had to be lying. But…if she wasn’t… Twilight could see on Ember’s face that the ambassador for the Dragon Lands was weighing all of the same information that the unicorn herself was. Both of them likely possessed very similar intelligence reports with regards to the disposition of the Republic’s forces. If anything, the dragons possessed far more information, given their closer proximity and likely active efforts to monitor griffon fleet movements in the area. In any case, both of them knew that the griffons couldn’t have taken Rock Haven Island by force. The dragons on the island were too numerous and too well fortified, and the griffons’ larger fleets were occupied elsewhere. Twilight recalled the report she’d seen about the Republic troop transport ships heading for the archipelago. The timing lined up well enough that they could have landed at Rock Haven Island when Gilda said they had. The unicorn also knew that the fleet she’d seen the report about couldn’t have dislodged the dragon garrison being built up there. Any fleet big enough would have been hard-pressed to travel unseen over such a vast distance too. The griffons couldn’t have forcibly occupied the island. So, either Gilda was lying—and Twilight couldn’t even begin to conceive of what the ambassador would gain by doing so—or the dragon garrison really hadn’t been there when the Republic’s transports arrived. Which Twilight also couldn’t think of a good explanation for why that would have been the case. Rock Haven Island was too strategically important for the dragons to have abandoned it without a really good reason. “Heh, think what you want.” Gilda shrugged and finally sat back down in her seat. “You lizards living in denial is only going to help us in the short run. It’ll keep you from realizing that you should already be surrendering to us right now. “The longer you morons fight, the more of you will die in this war.” Gilda’s smile was predatory now. “Which means more dragonhide for our tanners to make handbags out of—” “Ambassador,” Twilight numbly warned. A declaration of war may have just been made, but that was no reason to let Gilda devolve into antagonistic threats with what remained of her time. The unicorn put away the scroll containing the declaration of war, and was idly working out how to word her report on its contents to her superiors back in Canterlot. “Yeah, yeah; fine,” the Republic ambassador waved away the unicorn’s admonition, her eyes never leaving Ember’s. “I guess all I’ve got left to say is this: Are you lizards willing to surrender now, or are you really going to make the Republic spend valuable time and ammunition slaughtering all of you until you finally wise up and give in?” The daughter of the reigning dragon lord shot up in her seat. There was a moment where Twilight feared that she’d have to grab the dragoness with her magic to keep the azure ambassador from leaping across the table to attack Gilda. But, fortunately, Ember managed—somehow—to restrict herself to merely snarling and pointing. “We beat you turkeys once; we’ll do it again!” The Ambassador to the Dragon Lands snarled at her Republic counterpart. “You go ahead and keep thinking that,” Gilda chided, snickering at the dragoness. “By this time next year, I’ll be picking out a spot on your islands for my new summer roost.” “Over my dead body!” Ember snapped. The griffon hen’s smile turned Twilight’s stomach. As did the ambassador’s reaction to the dragoness’ defiance. It started as a snicker, at first. A quivering in the griffon’s shoulders that soon spread to her chest. Soon the spasms spread throughout the griffon hen’s whole body. Her beak split, emitting a screeching, mirthful, laugh that sent a shiver down the unicorn’s spine, and prompted the dragoness leering at her to pull her lips back in a furious sneer at the overtly mocking crackle coming from the griffon. “Oh, don’t worry, Ember,” Gilda wheezed, running a talon under her eye to wipe away a tear. “I wouldn’t want it any other way!” The griffon hen allowed herself to be consumed by the unapologetic belly laugh that was quickly rendering her speechless. Meanwhile, multiple other delegates in the chamber were on their feet, paws, or hooves, as they expressed their views on either the declaration of hostilities, the implicit threat made by one ambassador towards another, or both. Twilight’s pounding hoof on the marble slab was having minimal effect on muting the rising din of voices. The world was going mad, and in that moment, nocreature particularly cared about what one little purple unicorn was trying to accomplish. Two—unproductive—hours later saw Colonel Twilight Sparkle sitting in her office writing up the dispatch that would need to be sent back to Equestria informing them of the state of war that now existed between the Griffonian Republic and the Dragon Lands. This report was important enough that it was going to be sent out via pegasus courier, and so the Equestrian government should have plenty of time to put measures in place to modulate the unrest the news would generate among the populace. While this wasn’t a war that directly involved Equestria—yet—that didn’t mean that the hostilities wouldn’t affect ponies. Families would be concerned for relatives living or working overseas. Businesses and customers alike would want to know how the war would affect the prices of ware coming from or through those two nations, to say nothing of the goods being shipped through the regions where the fighting would be taking place. Privateering was a quite common practice after all. Freight shipping was a complicated business. While—in theory—only griffon and dragon ships should be at risk, the reality was that what counted as a ‘griffon’ or ‘dragon’ ship could get murky. Ships were expensive. Not every shipping company actually owned any vessels themselves. They’d lease them. So: did a ship owned by a Republic company, but being leased by an Equestrian one, constitute fair game for dragon naval ships or privateers? What about a pony-owned and crewed ship under contract with the dragons? Would the griffons attack them? A Republic-built ship, carrying a Saddle Arabian cargo, crewed by ponies; were they a legitimate target? The first casualty in a war was the truth. Such as the ‘truth’ about who truly were bona fide legitimate targets for raiding and seizure by both belligerents. Equestria could try to put as many escorting cruisers as possible alongside any shipping that they considered to be ‘theirs’ in an effort to dissuade commerce raiding. Theoretically, just the presence of an Equestrian-flagged warship should be enough to put off griffon or dragon ships, as neither side would be keen on making an enemy out of a neutral nation. Twilight intended to talk with Ambassador Zecora and see if the zebras could make any of their much faster cruisers available as as-needed escorts for the commercial shipping of races that lacked any robust navies of their own, in order to help safeguard their own shipping that might be skirting those blurred lines of ‘legitimate target’. Twilight had already had a talk with Captain Applejack about the need for additional patrols and an increased presence on the island, especially near griffon and dragon-owned shops and neighborhoods. Tensions between the two had been high even at the best of times. The unicorn fully expected things to get—as the orange mare had so eloquently understated things: ‘downraight uncivil’ in the next couple of days as word of the war fully spread among the residents of the involved nations. A few months ago, Twilight would never have imagined that she’d be thankful that the griffons and dragons living on Harmony had segregated themselves as a consequence of their shared animosity. But that self-imposed isolation from one another was doubtlessly going to greatly reduce the potential for spontaneous fights breaking out between residents. It wouldn’t negate it completely, but the fact that griffons and dragons wouldn’t be around each other in large numbers for prolonged periods of time would mitigate the violence that Applejack was sure they’d see in the coming weeks and months. Twilight didn’t doubt her head of security. Harmony Six’s commander was giving serious thought to the merits and detractions of imposing Martial Law on the island. At least for a few weeks; if only to preemptively ensure order in the fortress as the war got underway. She would discuss it with her staff during their evening meeting. A hoof rapped on her office door. “Enter,” Twilight called out, loud enough to be heard through the thick oak. A mare’s gray head cautiously poked in through the doorway. A few stray wisps of blonde mane had escaped the flight cap covering most of her head. Amber eyes which didn’t fully align with one another briefly glanced about the office before they—or, at least one of them—finally fell on Twilight at her desk. At that point, the mare smiled and entered the rest of the way, revealing herself to be an official courier. “You’re early,” the little purple unicorn noted with audible approval. A few minutes to one side or the other would hardly make a difference when one considered that the flight from the island to Equestria was the better part of a day and a half, but punctuality was something the fortress’ commander would always appreciate. The quill clutched in her telekinesis resumed darting across the parchment. “I’ll have the report ready to go out in a few more minutes.” The pegasus cocked her head in mild confusion as she approached. “Um…I’m actually here to make a delivery, ma’am,” the courier said. It was only then that the unicorn noticed the paper-wrapped box balanced on the mare’s back. “Oh. Well, thank you.” Twilight split her magic and snatched the package off the courier’s back, floating it over to her desk. “I wasn’t expecting anything. Who’s it from? There’s no note,” she observed as her telekinesis deftly undid the bow knot and started to shed the wrapping. “That? Oh, I don’t know,” the pegasus answered, even as she turned her head and ducked her head into her saddlebag. “Some mare hurr ber mur ur…” Whatever else the courier had tried to say was too muffled by her bag to make out. Twilight frowned. An official courier should have known exactly who it was that sent the package, as enlisting one required filling out a detailed form which listed the sender, the recipient, and the contents. She supposed it was possible that this pegasus simply hadn’t paid all that close attention to the form, but she should still have had it on her. Presumably the gray mare was fetching it now so that Twilight could sign for the delivery. She finally finished revealing the contents of the package. One of her eyebrows rose up in mild interest. Honestly, the sight of the cupcakes wasn’t as surprising as it probably should have been—Twilight was getting used to being gifted baked goods. She even had some idea regarding the sender, and was very curious to get a look at the delivery receipt to see what it contained under ‘Name’. However, the decorations of these cupcakes were considerably more subdued than what she was used to seeing from her usual benefactor. Black and white were traditional mourning colors, and the pink earth pony baker was typically far more festive when coloring her pastries. Had she recently suffered a loss? “Here, ma’am; this is for you.” Twilight looked up from the open container of cupcakes and saw that the pegasus was offering her a delivery receipt…and a letter bearing the seal of the Office of the Chancellor of Equestria. She spent several moments blinking at the letter in mild shock. Were the cupcakes from Fancy Pants somehow? Why would he be sending her condolence pastries? A few possible—though soundly absurd—possibilities offered themselves to the purple unicorn, but she swiftly discounted them out of hoof. The answer was literally being hoofed over to her; there was no need for idle speculation. “Thank you.” Twilight swiftly signed the receipt, noting that the ‘Sender’ was listed as Neighsay, but once more didn’t think on that too much. She herself often delegated simple tasks to Rarity. She took the letter, broke the seal, and started reading it. The unicorn made it two sentences before she had to stop. A part of her mind absently noted that it was a good thing that she’d already been sitting down. Twilight looked over those first sentences again to ensure that she hadn’t somehow grossly misread them. Then, with a hollow feeling in her chest, she continued reading further. There weren’t many details. That was understandable. This was hardly a formal detailed report on the matter; more of an ‘For Your Information’ memorandum. And Twilight had likely only gotten it this way, instead of through official channels, simply because the Fleur De Lis was still so close to the island. It was possibly even in response to the letter that she’d sent to the chancellor, so that Twilight understood why she wasn’t going to get a response to her questions. Ever. Former chancellor, a part of Twilight’s mind further amended. Fancy Pants was dead. If there was any consolation to be had, it was that the letter indicated that the stallion had passed away in his sleep. His personal physician had listed the cause of death as heart failure. An unexpected revelation, given the chancellor’s age, physical appearance, and his general demeanor while he’d been on the island. But he would hardly have been the first outwardly-fit pony to suffer a sudden and lethal cardiac event out of seemingly nowhere. Anecdotes abounded of healthy ponies who went on daily morning trots collapsing one day during their regular runs through town. Heart attacks happened. And now one had happened to the—former—Chancellor of Equestria. He could have picked a better time to drop dead, Twilight thought darkly to herself. The ponies of Equestria were going to be stressed enough as it was, thanks to the war, without also having to deal with a sudden transition at the highest level of government. A more selfish part of Twilight’s mind lamented that she was probably not going to get an answer to her appointment question now. “Well, it was nice of them to send cupcakes along with the bad news,” Twilight remarked, offering a sardonic smile to the courier mare. The gray pegasus blinked in confusion. “Oh, no, ma’am; the cupcakes aren’t related to the letter,” she explained. “Somepony gave them to me when I landed. She said something about sensing that you’d need them right now.” …Or maybe Twilight’s initial guess as to who’d provided the baked goods had been correct after all. “An earth pony? Pink mare? Really pink mare?” “Yes, ma’am; that’s the one.” “I don’t suppose you got her name?” “Sorry, ma’am; I didn’t think to ask. The way she spoke, it sounded like you two knew each other,” the pegasus said with an apologetic note in her voice. Twilight closed her eyes and let out a deep sigh. Then some realized something else that the courier had said which had almost slipped by unnoticed. “...You said that this mare was there when you landed?” “Yes, ma’am.” “I assume you landed on one of the lookouts? High up on the Citadel main tower?” That was where most couriers tended to land, as it saved those pegasi the trouble of having to walk back up several flights of stairs. “Yes, ma’am.” Which meant that the pink mare had gotten inside the Citadel. The—theoretically—most secure structure on the whole island. Aside from perhaps the armory— Twilight’s magic seized her quill and jotted down a quick note as she had the horrifying thought. She wasn’t sure exactly how many more guards she was going to make Applejack assign to the fort’s magazines, but in light of this recent revelation the little purple unicorn was going to try to make a case for ‘all of them’. She then put down the quill, touched her hoof to her chest, and slowly let out the breath that she’d only just realized she’d been holding since realizing the security of the tower had apparently been so casually compromised. To say nothing of the apparent reason for the compromise! A couple of weeks ago, Twilight would have been climbing the walls of her office trying to figure out how that mare could possibly have known to send sympathy cupcakes along with news of Fancy Pants’ death, when the news of said death could only have arrived after the mare had baked the cupcakes! …Unless the baker simply kept a wide array of freshly-baked cupcakes on hoof in order to account for any and all possible events that might occur on any given day? That sounded like it was likely to get expensive quickly. The mare might be privately wealthy, Twilight supposed—she certainly acted eccentric enough to be wealthy. Maybe she consulted some sort of personally compiled almanac? Twilight was aware that races which couldn’t employ weather-control pegasi to regulate their rainfall were actually able to make fairly reliable predictions for upcoming temperatures and storms by collecting data from previous decades and creating predictive models based on trends. Could something similar be done for major world events? There would be a lot of variables that needed to be accounted for, certainly, but if a model could be formulated— Twilight shook her head to dislodged the distraction, though she did jot down another note for later. There was too much going on right now for her to get lost in collating data and deriving equations to help her spot trends in major events. Two of the world’s major powers had gone to war—and nocreature yet knew how many more nations would end up getting dragged into it—and now Equestria’s chancellor was dead. Twilight let out a resigned sigh. “...Do you want a cupcake?” She nudged the box towards the gray pegasus. “Oh, no thank you, ma’am. Too sweet for my tastes. I prefer muffins.” The unicorn checked the contents of the box once more, half expecting to find that she’d somehow missed spotting a muffin in the mix intended for the delivery pony. When she failed to find one, Twilight actually felt a measure of grim satisfaction that the mysterious pink baker pony wasn’t, in fact, completely omniscient. She’d managed to anticipate the death of the chancellor—somehow—but hadn’t accounted for the food preferences of the specific courier who would be tasked with delivering the news of his death to Harmony. As far as ‘victories’ went, it wasn’t the most hollow that Twilight felt she’d ever experienced— —Zebras hadn’t been the only creatures in White Tail when Twilight— —but it was higher on her list than she cared to admit. The courier dipped a wing into her saddlebag and withdrew a muffin, showing it to Twilight. “But don’t worry, that same mare already gave me some!” She announced. “They’re banana-nut too; my favorite!” Colonel Twilight Sparkle’s frustrated scream was only mostly internal. Author's Note She probably keeps boxes of them stashed all over the island; for cupcake emergencies. As always, a thumbs up and comment are greatly appreciated If you like the cover art and want to see more stories get them, I've set up a Cover Art Fund if you're interested and have any bits lying around!
Chapter 12: Interludes and ExaminationsAs a general rule, Colonel Twilight Sparkle didn’t ‘do’ spas. It wasn’t that she had any particular principled aversion to them or the services that they provided. She simply preferred other means of relaxation when she felt the need to relieve mounting stress. Typically, this relaxation came in the form of reading or study. The unicorn attempted to distract herself by occupying her mind with something novel. This method of stress-reduction possessed the added benefit of allowing her to acquire new knowledge or skills. Which meant that, not only were the little purple unicorn’s thoughts no longer mired with whatever it was that had been preoccupying her before, but she’d also bettered herself as an individual. For many years now, that approach to relaxation had worked more or less flawlessly. There was only the slightest hitch in the mare’s gait as she briefly pondered—and not for the first time—how many of her degrees were essentially physical manifestations of her stress that she wore like badges of honor. The last time Twilight had thought for too long about how healthy that ultimately was, she’d wound up with a minor in chemistry. While relaxing with a good book was generally how the little purple unicorn recentered herself, she’d met with considerably less success than usual since yesterday. Try as she might, Twilight hadn’t been able to keep her attention focused on the contents of the book she was trying to read. Her thoughts refused to abandon the nascent war that had broken out, as well as the probable ramifications of Fancy Pants’ death. The little purple unicorn had eventually concluded that the principal issue had come down to one of environment: her surroundings kept reminding her of the very stressors that she was attempting to dispel. Her quarters, her office, the ships moving around the island, the mere sight of The Citadel looming over everything… Twilight couldn’t look at any of them and not think about how Harmony Six was going to be affected. …How it represented the ultimate failure of the fortress’—and her own—primary mission. A change of scenery was in order, and that wasn’t nearly as easy to achieve as it sounded when one considered that Harmony was actually a rather small island when one got right down to it. At only two miles in length and at just over a mile across at its widest point, Harmony possessed less land area than even most of Equestria’s smaller towns. It was possible to see nearly every other part of the island from just about anywhere with even a moderately high perch. So coming up with a list of places that she could go on the island that would provide for truly novel scenery had been an initially daunting task. But, as Twilight didn’t ‘do’ spas, she reasoned that visiting one might provide her senses with just enough unfamiliar sights and sensations to help distract her thoughts from her present troubles. There were quite a few spas on the island actually. More than one might have guessed after being told how small the fortress was, certainly. It helped that the island was rather densely populated for its size, but the inflated number of spas was almost influenced by the wide variety of creatures which resided on the island, many of whom had differing needs or expectations when it came to what helped them to relax or feel rejuvenated. Some of these preferences were also mutually exclusive, which made it nigh-impossible for any single establishments to cater to all needs simultaneously. Dragons, for example, felt most at ease while lounging in a pool of actual lava while breathing in air that was saturated with sulfur dioxide. That particular gas was exceptionally lethal to most other species, even in small quantities, which would have made it beyond reckless for a spa to place a room containing such gases anywhere near any place where non-dragon patrons might be. Kirin preferred places that were hot and humid. Abyssinians couldn’t stand humidity. Yaks couldn’t tolerate heat particularly well and desired places with rooms that were kept well below freezing. With such a wide range of tastes present on the island, an equally wide range of spas and parlors had opened up to service those disparate clientele. For those species which made up a larger percentage of the population—especially ponies—there were even multiple competing establishments; with one or two ultimately emerging as the ‘premiere’ choice for members of the serviced race. Among ponies, the general consensus was that the ‘La Ti Da Spa’ was where one simply had to go if they wanted to receive the most luxurious services available on the island. At least, that was the opinion which Major Rarity had expressed on multiple occasions. Twilight had yet to encounter a pony who vehemently disagreed with the assessment of her executive officer, and so had decided that if she was going to try and clear her mind with a visit to a spa, then she might as well try one which came highly recommended. Of course, being held in high regard by a majority of the island’s inhabitants also meant that a particular business’ services tended to be in equally high demand—few were those who would deliberately seek out the products or services of the second best business without a good reason. This usually meant having to schedule one’s appointment well in advance, or so Twilight had learned when she stepped in through the doors to the La Ti Da. Not having patronized a spa before, the unicorn hadn’t been aware that they functioned like high-end restaurants, with ‘walk-ins’ generally not being accommodated as a rule, if for no other reason than because many of the services offered by a spa—massages, hoof-polishing, mane styling, and so forth—required the active engagement of one of the spa’s staff members. Fortunately for the little purple mare, rank—and position—had its privileges. Twilight Sparkle was not the sort of mare who would deliberately leverage her rank in order to receive preferential treatment or personal gain—certainly not when it came to a civilian business. However, that didn’t mean that the spa’s proprietors—for the owners appeared to be twin sisters—were themselves above leveraging the unicorn’s rank for their personal gain. Appointment or no, the two earth ponies were quite keen to accommodate Twilight’s patronage; reveling in the prospective further boost that their already highly-regarded establishment would receive when they spread the word that the La Ti Da was the preferred spa of the fortress’ commander! The little purple unicorn’s protesting that a singular visit didn’t make her a ‘regular’ fell on deaf ears as the pair of pastel spa ponies eagerly—and loudly—pushed their ‘favorite client’ in the direction of one of the bathing rooms while they finished final preparations for Twilight’s ‘usual’ Executive Deluxe Package, which was apparently presently being offered at a discount to any customers who wanted to sign up for a Passion Flower Tier spa membership. A few of those in the waiting room did at least look at the brochures promoting the spa’s membership tiers from what Twilight saw before she was finally shoved deeper into the building’s interior. The proprietors spoke rather quickly in thickly accented words which Twilight didn’t catch all of before she suddenly found herself in one of the hot baths. There had been quite a bit of thanking the unicorn for choosing their spa, assurances that her experience at the La Ti Da would be the most memorable that she’d ever had, and a clipped apology that her bath wouldn’t be exclusive, and assurances that the colonel wouldn’t find the unintended company objectionable. Twilight found out what that meant when the door closed behind her, drawing the attention of the other two mares who were already lounging in the small pool of warm water. Both mares were immediately familiar to the little purple unicorn. “Colonel,” the ivory unicorn said, her sapphire eyes widening in mild surprise, “I didn’t realize you were planning on coming here today, or I would have invited you to come along with us.” She waved her hoof in the direction of her companion, and equally familiar yellow pegasus. “Apologies, but I didn’t know I was going to be here either, major,” Twilight dryly replied as her gaze darted between the two mares, lingering on the cool stare being leveled against her by the clinic’s physician. “I didn’t mean to intrude. I should just go—” “It’s not an imposition at all, colonel,” Rarity insisted. “Is it, Fluttershy?” “...It’s…fine,” came the eventual response from the pegasus, in a tone that didn’t at all convey the feeling that the doctor did, in fact, feel that the situation was ‘fine’. Twilight was briefly tempted to leave despite the assurance from her executive officer, as it was fairly evident that staying would just create an awkward tension between the three of them. On the other hoof, the unicorn supposed that—while hardly relaxing—interpersonal tension just might get her thinking about anything other than the war and instability looming on the horizon. Which was her ultimate purpose anyway. “Alright; thank you.” Twilight finally relented. She stepped over and slowly eased herself into the hot bath, keeping a respectful distance from the other two mares. A great deal of the tension melted away almost immediately upon contact with the heated water, much to Twight’s delighted surprise. The contented sigh that escaped her lips as she sank down to her withers was actually a good bit louder than she had intended, causing the purple unicorn to flush with embarrassment. Major Rarity smiled broadly at her commanding officer. “It is nice, isn’t it, colonel? I make it a point to come here once a week to help myself unwind.” “Do the two of you often come here together?” Twilight asked, looking between the two mares. “Actually, it’s usually three of us: Captain Applejack usually joins us too, but she couldn’t make it today,” the ivory mare explained. “She’s working out those revised patrol patterns in response to…recent unpleasantness.” So much for getting my mind off the war, Twilight thought bitterly to herself. She wasn’t ready to give up on that endeavor though. “If that’s the case, then maybe we can convince Captain Rainbow Dash to join in and the five of us can just conduct our daily briefings here,” the purple unicorn suggested, doing her utmost to inject as much levity as she could muster into her tone. “Oh, I wholeheartedly second that motion!” Rarity said with a chuckle, before shooting a smirk in her commander’s direction. “Though in order to get Captain Dash to join us, I think we’ll need to find a way to make the spa sound sufficiently ‘cool’,” the unicorn held up her hooves and waved them so as to appropriately bracket the last word in quotes. Twilight permitted herself a small chuckle of agreement. “It actually wouldn’t take all that much work to get her to internalize thinking that coming here was ‘cool’,” Twilight said casually. “I’ve read some books on behavioral psychology. All it would basically take is a form of exposure therapy. “If we arrange for enough other ponies around her to talk about how much they enjoy going to the spa, combined with leaving fliers for the La Ti Da laying around the flight barracks, and maybe assign her some flight patrol routes that take her over the building a couple times a day? It would take a couple of months, but after sufficiently saturating her senses with the concept of coming to the spa, she’d eventually come here of her own volition.” Fluttershy frowned. “Psychologically manipulating somepony into going someplace doesn’t sound very…nice.” “It was just a joke, doctor,” Twilight said with a sigh. “I’m actually not in the habit of casually behaviorally modifying my subordinates.” Offhoofedly, the unicorn added under her breath, “Even if there are some things about that pegasus that I’d like to change…” Rarity cleared her throat, clearly uncomfortable with the visible animosity between the other two mares. “Captain Dash does have some…abrasive qualities; but she’s a fine flier. Her squadrons are top performers when compared to other flights in Equestria. “In fact, just about all of our senior staff here on Harmony Six have exceptional records,” the ivory mare continued. “Command really did set us up for success!” “Considering our mission was to try and foster peaceful relations between the other races, it looks like we weren’t actually as set up for success as we could have been…” Doctor Fluttershy dryly pointed out. “Since it failed.” “You’ll pardon me, doctor, if I don’t give a convict’s opinion of my abilities all that much weight!” Twilight snapped at the pegasus, fixing the flier with a vitriolic glare. The bath fell immediately silent, save for the trickle of fresh hot water flowing in from the tap. Rarity’s eyes were wide, her jaw agape with visible shock as she stared at her commanding officer. Fluttershy’s expression wasn’t as easy to read, looking as close to neutral as one could get under the circumstances. The yellow pegasus mare returned Twilight’s piercing amethyst stare with her own unblinking gaze. “...I wasn’t commenting on your abilities, colonel; or your efforts,” the physician finally said in a quiet tone. “I was simply pointing out a fact. “I’m well aware that it’s possible to fail…even when you do everything you can to succeed. Every doctor is,” Fluttershy added in a more subdued tone, her eyes closing briefly. Twilight’s jaw slammed shut. It took her less than a second to review what the pegasus had said, and realize that it indeed probably hadn’t been intended as a slight towards her competence. It wasn’t like she hadn’t had essentially the same thoughts since the Council meeting. She’d just…not been in her right mind when she’d heard the physician’s. Her stress level had already been high, she’d spent most of the day analyzing everything that had happened in Council meetings between the griffons and the dragons since she’d taken command of Harmony Six, looking for anything that she could have done differently to affect the outcome. She’d been thinking that she wasn’t good enough to do the job that she’d been assigned competently. This was Twilight’s first command of an installation. On top of that, it was arguably both one of the most strategically and politically important forts that Equestria maintained. By all rights, this command should have gone to a general. Or somepony with experience running what was basically a city. A pony who’d been around diplomats and politicians for years. Somepony who was an experienced negotiator. Twilight hadn’t learned any of those things. She wasn’t ready for a command like Harmony Six. A posting this important shouldn’t have gone to somepony like her. In hindsight, it hadn’t been reasonable to believe that she’d be able to succeed. Who’d chosen her for this? What had they been thinking? …Had the plan been for her to fail all along— Now Twilight had taken out her frustrations on a pony who hadn’t earned it. Fluttershy let out a breath before turning around and raising herself out of the water. “Doctor,” Twilight began. The pegasus paused, but she didn’t turn around. “I’m sorry. That was uncalled for. I’m just—” The little purple unicorn paused, let out a quiet snort, and shook her head. She started again. “I could give you all kinds of excuses for what I’d said, but that’s all they’d be: excuses. For the inexcusable. “I shouldn’t have said what I did. It wasn’t—” Twilight hesitated when she realized what the next words out of her mouth were going to be, and who she was about to say them to. She briefly debated rephrasing, but ultimately decided to push on, albeit with an added sardonic chuckle. “...It wasn’t very nice to say. “I should be the one to leave.” Twilight rose back up onto her hooves and turned for the bath’s edge. She stopped when she heard Fluttershy speak. “But is that how you really feel, colonel? That you value me and my opinions less because I spent time in Fetlock?” The impulse that immediately jumped to the forefront of the purple unicorn’s mind was to deny it. It was how Twilight was supposed to answer that question: that the Cavalry had commuted the remainder of the physician’s sentence at the disciplinary paddock and restored her license, so Twilight should treat her debt to the Cavalry and Equestria as being ‘paid’ and give her the same regard as she would any other pony. That was the ‘correct’ answer to the question. It wouldn’t have been the truth though. She’d told enough lies since coming to Harmony Fortress though. The thought of telling another reminded her of how Captain Applejack had regarded her during the incident with the zebra marine. The security mare’s emerald eyes felt as though they had a way of drilling deeper into a pony’s very being than a batpony’s Enthrall ever could. “...It’s not that you spent time in Fetlock,” Twilight said evenly—honestly. “It’s why you were there. What you did.” “Because I ran away.” It hadn’t been a question, but Twilight supplied her confirmation anyway. The two of them still weren’t looking at each other. “Yes.” “You think that I’m a coward.” It was another statement. “A lot of ponies left Equestria to get away from the war,” the unicorn deflected. It wasn’t a ‘lie’, as such. She simply felt as though she’d insulted the doctor enough already. “...That wasn’t a denial,” Fluttershy calmly observed. Twilight didn’t have a response for that. She wasn’t looking in the pegasus’ direction, so she couldn’t see what the mare was doing; but the sound coming from behind her suggested that the other mare was lowering herself back into the bath. There was a soft sigh, one of resignation rather than contentment. “...Lay back down, colonel.” Twilight was very tempted to decline the invitation. Things were awkward enough between her and the doctor as it was. Today’s events were far from likely to help matters. It probably wouldn’t matter in the long run. Once the senior military commanders in Canterlot got word of the imminent war and its wider implications, they were bound to replace Twilight with an officer more familiar with defending island fortifications. Just in case the war escalated to the point that Equestria was dragged into it. Harmony was a long way from the mainland. It would need to be able to defend itself without support for a week or more if the worse happened. In the end, Twilight lowered herself back into the water. Just because it was unlikely that hers and the doctor’s relationship would improve was no reason to further antagonize things by blatantly rebuking the pegasus. “Again, I’m sorry I—” the unicorn tried once more, stopping when Fluttershy held up her hoof. “...Did you know that I was the first pony to ever meet a zebra? At least, as far as I know. If there was a meeting before mine, a public record was never made of it.” Twilight blinked in mild surprise at the declaration, but then her expression quickly morphed into a frown. “I thought everypony else aboard the Maddox died in the Fisher Atoll Incident?” She said, referencing the well-publicized initial encounter between zebras and ponies, during which an Equestrian frigate that was charting the atoll was ambushed and destroyed in a surprise attack by a zebra cruiser. There was only a single pony survivor reported: one of the frigate’s pegasi, Silver Jewel, who’d been scouting the reefs ahead of the Maddox when the frigate was sunk. “I actually met some zebras long before then,” Fluttershy said. Both Twilight’s and Rarity’s eyes widened in response to the revelation, as this appeared to be news to the fortress’ executive officer as well. “Though it wasn’t on purpose. “I went abroad shortly after finishing medical school,” the pegasus explained. “I traveled to the usual places that ponies went to if they worked up the courage to leave Equestria back then: Griffonstone, Mount Aris, Mulan. You’d hear about the zebras of course, but you’d never meet them in the flesh. They didn’t interact with many races back then.” Twilight nodded. One of the more surprising outcomes of the war between Equestria and the Zebracan Conclave was that it finally brought the zebras to the negotiating table—any negotiating table. Like the alicorns, they’d apparently declined to receive diplomats from any of the other races on the planet since…well, any given race’s recorded history. Nor had they ever sent any delegates of their own. The extent of the typical ‘exchange’ between a zebra vessel and that of a ship from another race was that of gunfire. Specifically: a warning shot across the bow. It hadn’t taken long for word to get around to stay away from zebra ships. It had at least seemed like zebras weren’t interested in seeking out aggression. Which was fortunate, as no other ship afloat could outrun a zebra cruiser. What had prompted the zebras to forsake their typical standoffish nature when their ship had come across the Maddox was unknown. The zebras had insisted that the Equestrian ship attacked their vessel first. Silver Jewel had attested that, while he hadn’t seen how the fight started with his own eyes, by the time he got back he did see the zebra cruiser sink the Maddox from well outside any range an Equestrian cannon could have accurately managed from a ship at sea. The divergent accounts still remained unresolved. But, in the wake of the war and the zebras’ offer to surrender, little further interest had been paid to finding the truth. The ink on the treaty was still wet enough that nopony wanted to risk ruffling any manes by figuring out who exactly deserved to have the hoof pointed at them over the war. The doctor’s story continued: “Then, one day, I was on my way to meet with a Kirean ship that was reported to have a sick crewmare onboard. She’d broken a leg and it had gotten infected. They were worried about moving her and were still days away from making port. “But I got caught in a bad squall on my way there.” A grimace creased the yellow mare’s features. “I’m…pretty much the opposite of Captain Rainbow Dash when it comes to flying: I’m not very good at all. It was all I could do just to make it to a cloud to hold onto to keep from getting blown into the sea. “It was hours before the storm died down enough for me to risk flying again, and by that time I had no idea where I even was anymore or how far I was from shore. Just flying out and hoping that I got lucky enough to find land only risked making me more lost than I already was; or so I reasoned at the time. I decided to stick with the cloud I was on and see if I came across a ship that’d be able to tell me where I was.” Twilight could imagine what a harrowing experience that must have been: to be lost and disoriented in the middle of the ocean. It certainly wasn’t an experience that she wanted to have herself. “Well…I eventually did. I came across a zebra ship.” A wan smile crossed the doctor’s lips now. “That was how I knew that I was really lost. Like I said: zebras didn’t interact with other races all that much. So if I was over a part of the ocean with zebra ships in it, then I probably wasn’t going to see any ships from the other races we knew about. And I’d already been floating around up there for almost a week by that time. I’d drunk most of my cloud already, and it wouldn’t be much longer before I was too weak to fly at all. “So…I tried my luck with the zebras. “They were actually pretty nice to me once they realized I was lost,” she said, a soft smile touching her muzzle as she relived the memories. “The language barrier made things difficult at first, but after a few days we managed to learn enough of each others’ languages to get across the basics. They really warmed up to me when they found out I was a doctor. Their ship had its own doctor—Doctor Xera—but she was glad to have the help in the sickbay. “The captain diverted their course. They took me close to a Saddle Arabian port that they knew about. Close enough that I could fly there on my own. I thanked them and we parted ways. “It was pretty easy to make it back to Equestria from there.” Fluttershy was silent for several long moments as the faint smile melted away, her eyes growing haunted. “...A couple months later, ponies and zebras were at war.” Twilight and Rarity exchanged looks. “That was an incredible story, doctor,” the purple unicorn said. “I never knew that a pony had had interactions with the zebras prior to Fisher Atoll.” Fluttershy nodded. “I’ve only ever told that story once before,” the pegasus admitted. “And it was the greatest mistake of my life.” Both unicorns balked now. “Whatever do you mean, doctor?” Rarity asked, sounding just as perplexed by the revelation as Twilight was feeling. “When the war was going really badly, all sorts of ponies in the government and the Cavalry were asking everypony and anypony if they knew anything about zebras,” Fluttershy said. “And…I wanted to be helpful, so I told somepony that I’d been on a zebra ship and talked with them. “They asked me all sorts of questions about the ship, but I’m not a naval pony, so I just didn’t know anything that was very useful—not the sort of things that the generals cared about anyway.” The yellow mare gave an anemic shrug. “Then they asked me what I talked with the zebras about, and I told them about how I talked a lot with the ship’s doctor and how we talked about medical treatments and techniques and things like that. I told them about how Doctor Xera and I discussed the different medicines that zebras and ponies used…” The pegasus was silent for a few moments. Then, quietly, almost reluctantly: “...Then I told them about how some of the medications Equestria used were highly toxic to the zebras.” Realization dawned almost instantly on Twilight’s face. It made sense, of course. Even from the outset of the war, things were going terribly for Equestria. The Cavalry’s tacticians and planners had been desperate for anything that might help to give Equestria a fighting chance: weapons, armors, spells. The revelation that ponies were already actively producing a substance which was toxic to the enemy would have been invaluable information. If a way could have been found to properly weaponize the delivery of that medication… Chemical warfare wasn’t regarded as being a particularly ‘honorable’ means of prosecuting a war; but many of Equestria’s leaders eventually reasoned that ‘fighting dirty’ was far preferable to ‘dying with dignity’. Twilight…wasn’t sure how she felt about that quite yet. “...They wanted to know everything I’d learned about how to hurt zebras,” Fluttershy said, almost too quietly to hear. She raised her head and met Twilight’s gaze. “They wanted me to figure out the best ways to poison as many of them as possible. “They wanted a doctor to teach them how to kill. En masse.” The purple unicorn looked away. —Twilight had developed the theories back in school. There’d been a research paper. —She’d received high marks for it; because of course she had— But it had been just a paper. All theory; no practical trials. A thought exercise and little more. The Cavalry found the paper. They brought it back to its author. They wanted the theory turned into a spell— —Twilight usually enjoyed creating new spells— Twilight had succeeded; because of course she had. She’d cast the spell exactly once. …Once had been enough… “I ran,” Fluttershy admitted. “I was scared, and so I ran. Scared of what they’d do with the information. Scared of being called a ‘hero’ for my ‘contributions’ after the war.” Twilight still couldn’t bring herself to look at the pegasus, but she felt the other mare’s eyes on her all the same. “...And I was scared of how I’d come to feel about that. “So I ran. Like a coward. I ran away to Griffonstone and stayed there for the rest of the war. When it ended, I came back—Equestria was still my home. I was arrested for desertion. I pleaded guilty. “The rest…is in my file.” The room was plunged into silence once more. In many ways, it was a more awkward one than the earlier doubt of quiet following Twilight’s ill-thought out snapped retort. Because, now that the little purple unicorn knew the full context behind the doctor’s incarceration, it was hard for Twilight not to see a little of herself in the pegasus. Both of them had possessed knowledge that Equestria’s leaders wanted in order to help to win the war. Twilight had granted hers when asked; Fluttershy had fled to keep her knowledge from being misused. Now, with the benefit of hindsight on how those choices had turned out, Twilight wasn’t quite as certain about which of them had made the correct decision back then. “I’m sorry—again—for what I said to you,” Twilight said. She was finally able to meet the other mare’s gaze. “I didn’t know about the details behind your incarceration—I couldn’t have known them—but that shouldn’t have mattered. I drew conclusions based on incomplete data.” The unicorn’s lips quirked upward into a wan smile. “I know better than to do that, and I did it anyway. “I’m sorry,” she repeated. Fluttershy gave a little nod. “...I’m used to it.” “You shouldn’t be.” the little purple unicorn affirmed. “And, for what it’s worth: I don’t think you’re a coward. Sticking to your convictions in the face of adversity is one of the more straightforward definitions of bravery, actually.” The smile that spread across Twilight’s muzzle now was far warmer than many of her earlier ones. “I agree,” Major Rarity said with a firm nod of her head. “I can imagine the sort of pressure that the brass would have placed on you in order to get you to reveal what you knew.” So could Twilight. “...Thank you.” A gentle knock at the door drew the attention of all three mares. A soft pink mare poked her head into the bath. “Colonel, Major, doctor? Vee are ready to begin your massages now; if you vould care to follow me?” One of the proprietor mares asked. The trio exchanged looks before Rarity supplied the answer on their behalf. “That sounds lovely, Miss Aloe; lead the way!” Five minutes into the massage, Colonel Twilight Sparkle decided that regular visits to the La Ti Da was something that she was going to work into her schedule. It was almost as relaxing as reading a good book… “Does this letter come with an explanation as to why it took so long to get here?” Ambassador Ember growled as she accepted the scroll from her assistant. All the while, the dragoness’ cold blue eyes didn’t leave the messenger standing on the other side of her desk. “Gilda knew the details days ago. And they came to her via ship.” “You’re lucky we know anything at all, ambassador,” the crimson drake retorted, not seeming to be at all intimidated by the glare being leveled at him from the daughter of the reigning Dragon Lord. He likely believed that his rank afforded him some protection from Ember’s ire. He was probably correct. With a genuine war now underway, the dragons couldn’t afford to shake up their command structure by casually defrocking air marshals just because they weren’t bowing and scraping enough. “Just about every dragon that survived the attack died shortly after being recovered,” Marshal Garble explained, sounding as frustrated by the news as the ambassador was. “That’s an account from the only one who managed to put together any kind of description of what attacked Rock Haven.” He nodded his muzzle in the direction of the scroll the dragoness was unfurling. Ember grunted and began to read over the missive. Her eyes skimmed over everything she considered ‘extraneous’ until she finally got to the information she actually cared about: the identities of the forces that had wiped out their garrison on the island. Ambassador Gilda had insisted that it wasn’t the Republic who had launched the attack. The dragoness—obviously—hadn’t believed that for a moment. There was a very short list of races on the planet which possessed the military might that would have hypothetically been capable of dislodging the army that the dragons had been building on Rock Haven: the zebras, the alicorns, maybe the ponies—and even if one of them could have done the deed, none of them would have had any reason to launch a surprise attack. The only race with the means and the motive to perpetrate this was the griffons. It simply had to be them, no matter what Ambassador Gilda might otherwise claim in the Council Chamber. Now that Ember had finally received proof of that from a witness, she could go back to the other representatives and reveal the griffons for the lying sacks of shit that they— The cobalt dragoness’ eyes widened. Then they narrowed once more, her lips curling into a vicious sneer before she glared back at the drake who’d brought her this news. This profoundly unhelpful news. “Is this some kind of fucking joke?” She held up the parchment so that Garble could see its contents. The scroll hadn’t been sealed when Spike had received it from the marshal, so Ember presumed that the crimson dragon had read it over at least once already and was familiar with its contents. She still wanted to make her point though, jabbing a talon at the offending sentences in the letter. “‘It was like the night itself came alive’?” Ember didn’t quite spit in derision. “‘Darkness attacked us from everywhere’? The fucking ‘darkness’ attacked them? What does that even mean?! “Even dragon whelps aren’t afraid of the dark!” Then the ambassador’s claw drifted down to a not-very-helpful ‘sketch’ that had been included at the bottom of the scroll. “And what’s this supposed to be? Was the island attacked by an ink blot?” Garble threw his arms up in an exasperated gesture of his own. Given his lack of surprise by anything that Ember had quoted, it was clear that the drake had read over the contents of the scroll at least once. The fact that the marshal looked like he was at least as frustrated as she was did exactly nothing to ease the dragoness ambassador’s frustrations. “How the fuck should I know?! I wasn’t even there for the actual debriefing! I’m just telling you what I was told by the dragons who spoke to the only survivor who managed to get out more than two words before dying. I’m told that he drew the picture himself.” “I made more detailed finger-paintings than this when I was a hatchling,” Ember scoffed before she tossed the roll of parchment, and the amorphous black blob at the bottom of it, onto her desk. Had it not been specifically pointed out in the letter that the large dark splotch was intended to be a visual depiction of what had attacked Rock Haven Island, the ambassador would have assumed it was the result of a bottle of ink being inadvertently tipped over onto the scroll and immediately dismissed it as having any relevance whatsoever. Learning that the splotch was meant to be important actually somehow made the dragoness more frustrated with the letter’s contents. Mostly because the ‘illustration’ looked exactly nothing like a griffon. “Allegedly, it rose out of the water, was as big as Lord Torch himself, and spewed out a bunch of smaller little black and sparkly blob things that swarmed over the island. Nothing stopped them,” The drake shrugged as he related what little else he knew about the situation. “Not canons, not muskets, not even dragonfire. Though he said that the fire at least seemed to get them to react. Whatever that was didn’t even acknowledge being shot at by canons. “Or so he said.” “So, in summary, what you’re telling me happened is: a giant shadow showed up out of nowhere, gave exactly no fucks about being shot at with thirty-pound cannon balls, sank every ship anchored there, killed just about every dragon anywhere near the island…and then just fucked off back into the ocean like nothing happened?” Ember said, not bothering to hide her skepticism. “And all of this, what, a day or two before a fleet of Republic troop transports conveniently shows up at Rock Haven with enough griffons to occupy and fortify the island like we’d never even taken it in the first place?” Marshal Garble didn’t appear to have a response to the ambassador’s—presumably rhetorical—question. It was perhaps just as well. Even Ember wasn’t sure if there was an answer that the crimson drake could have given that wouldn’t have just pissed her off even more. “I looked over our most recent intelligence reports,” the dragoness went on. “Feel free to correct me if I’m out of date, being all the way out here, but I was under the impression that the Republic doesn’t even have any serious warship fleets operating in that region. “Am I mistaken?” “No, ambassador,” the drake admitted in a somewhat reluctant tone. He appeared to have already anticipated where Ember was going with her next line of questioning, and had decided that he wasn’t looking forward to providing the answers he knew he’d have to. “They have some lighter cruisers for anti-piracy and interdiction duties in the region, but all of their heavier frigates and battleships are elsewhere.” Ember nodded. “So, the griffons had nothing nearby that could have supported an invasion fleet.” It was a statement, not a question, but Garble nodded anyway. “And how long had those troop ships been at sea before arriving at the island?” “Five days.” “So those troop ships set out for the island while it was still occupied by us, with nothing to help them support a landing.” Another statement. “Correct, ambassador.” “It’s almost like whoever gave the order to send those ships knew that our garrison would be dealt with before they arrived. In fact, only a complete moron would have sent out a fleet like that towards Rock Haven Island without first knowing that there wouldn’t be any opposition present by the time the transports arrived,” Ember deduced, receiving no pushback from the drake standing in front of her. “Unfortunately for us—and despite their anatomy suggesting otherwise—the griffons aren’t bird-brained idiots. They knew the Rock Haven garrison would be dealt with when they sent those ships. In fact, they timed the attack almost perfectly, because if it had happened even a couple days sooner, we’d have had time to send out more dragons to reinforce the defenses—not many,” Ember acknowledged. “Not enough to hold off a real assault, but enough to fight off what the Republic actually sent.” “Probably,” Garble agreed. “My point, marshal, is that this ink blot,” the cobalt dragoness stabbed the drawing on her desk with a claw, “is obviously associated with the griffons somehow. What I want to know is: how? “Is it a new kind of magic that the griffons developed? Something they imported from another race? Is it some new kind of monster that they’ve managed to tame? “I know you don’t know,” Ember headed off the drake as he opened his mouth to offer what was no doubt an admission of ignorance. “There’d have been an explanation in this letter if anydragon did. My point is that we need to find out. “Comb through every record we have back home. Every record,” the dragoness stressed. “Intelligence reports, histories, myths, legends, fucking whelp stories—anything and everything that might mention anything that looks or acts like this thing,” Ember repeatedly stabbed the image on the scroll for emphasis. “Reach out to the other races too. The kirins, the donkeys, the ponies—actually, no, not the ponies,” the ambassador amended. “Why not?” Garble asked, sounding genuinely curious. “If this thing was at all magical—and ignoring cannon balls suggests that it was—then the ponies seem like the ones to ask. Aside from the alicorns, ponies are the most magically-inclined race on the planet.” “Exactly,” Ember agreed. “They are incredibly skilled with magic. If any race was capable of creating something like this, it would probably be the ponies—or the alicorns,” the ambassador added with a dismissive note. While undeniably capable, it was well-known how non-inclined the alicorns were to share any of their knowledge with the other races. The ponies on the other hand… “The griffons sold weapons to the ponies during their war with the zebras,” the ambassador explained. “If any race was going to sell weapons to the griffons, it would be them. “I’m not saying that Equestria is actively helping the Republic against us,” Ember hastily amended upon seeing the obvious question building up behind Garble’s widening gaze. “They could have sold whatever magical knowledge this is to the griffons years ago. Maybe some basis for it was something that got traded to the griffons in exchange for the weapons during the war. Who knows? “My point is that this thing could be based on pony technology. If we ask them about it, then it’s possible that word about how much we know about all this might get back to the griffons.” “So? We’re at war,” the drake stated the obvious. “Why do we care if the griffons find out we’re looking into where they’re getting help from?” “Because they clearly don’t want us to know about whatever this thing is.” Ember said. “They don’t want anycreature to know. Otherwise why act like the attack never happened during the Council meeting?” “Isn’t that even more of a reason for us to tell everycreature about it?” “It is if we have real proof,” the ambassador countered, scowling. “The ravings of one half-mad drake on his deathbed doesn’t mean anything. If the griffons deny having access to something like this, and we don’t have any real evidence that they do, then we just come off looking like lunatics looking for any reason to explain why we just got punted off Rock Haven by our tails. If we’re going to find allies in this war, then we need our credibility to be as intact as possible. We can’t let the griffons undermine us by painting us as fools that are literally jumping at shadows,” she waved her hand at the scroll. “The moment we have any concrete evidence of some sort that the griffons used that thing to attack us before their declaration of war, then we’ll release it to the world at large and expose them in front of the Council. But, until then…” Ember shook her head. “Keep our investigation away from any of the races that might have working relationships with the griffons; which includes the other major races on the Council: no ponies, no alicorns, and no zebras. “Frankly, if any of them were a part of this, then we’re pretty much fucked anyway…” Garble nodded. “Understood, Ambassador Ember,” the marshal said with a sigh. “We’ll see what we can dig up.” As the crimson-scaled drake turned away to leave, Ember stopped him with one additional question. “What are we doing to stop another attack like this?” She asked. “If cannons don’t work, and dragonfire barely gets a reaction, how does my fa—how does the Dragon Lord intend to fight it off if it shows up again?” Garble was quiet for far longer than Ember was comfortable with before he answered. “...The current plan is to fight it with everything we have, Ambassador Ember. No surrender; no retreat.” The marshal hadn’t turned back to look at her when he’d answered. The ambassador didn’t say anything further to stop him from leaving. Her office was silent for a long while after the door closed, and it was only broken when Ember’s assistant, Spike, offered up a bluntly succinct assessment which almost perfectly mirrored the ambassador’s own private thoughts: “I’ll be honest; that doesn’t sound like a very good plan.” “No. No it doesn’t.” Hopefully there would be better options available to them before it was too late. Author's Note Alternate chapter titles included: "Hey, look who finally passed the Bechdel Test!" As always, a thumbs up and comment are greatly appreciated If you like the cover art and want to see more stories get them, I've set up a Cover Art Fund if you're interested and have any bits lying around!
Prologue: Midnight on the Firing Line‘Equestria Will Prevail!’ A few years ago, those affirming posters had been everywhere. They’d been plastered on nearly every flat surface in every town across the continent. A bold statement emblazoned above a scene of defiant ponies wearing pristine uniforms and barding. Motivational. Inspiring. Desperately prophetic. They’d turned out to be little more than a comforting lie. One that ponies had continued to tell themselves for years. The lithe purple unicorn mare found herself idly wondering—and not for the first time—how many of the ponies behind the creation of those posters had known it to be a lie from the beginning? Surely, after seeing the results of the first true battle of the war, it had to have been obvious to Equestria’s leadership how outmatched ponies were. How hopeless… And yet…they’d still continued to make the posters. Not as many of them remained anymore—and there were several reasons for that. Eventually, a few years into the fighting, it was decided that the time and ponypower being spent making the posters would be of better benefit to the war effort if directed elsewhere. Like building up earthworks around what towns and forts still yet remained undestroyed by the enemy. Not many of those had remained either. Those few posters which still yet endured today showed their years. They bore the scars of wind, rain…and disillusioned ponies. The last poster that the mare had seen on her way out of the city had been heavily marred by water damage; and its text now read: ‘Equestria Will Prevail! DIE’. Staring out from the slope of the mountain, towards the distant lowlands surrounding Equestria’s last remaining city worthy of being called such, and counting the pinpricks of light of the camp fires that surrounded it, the unicorn found that she no longer disagreed with the sentiment expressed on the poster. It was no longer a poster dictating a lie. It finally reflected the truth. One that she’d known for a long time. She’d run the numbers. Even when the answer provided was objectively disheartening, the mare still found that there was a comfort to be had when solving any given equation. After all, nothing was more distressing to her mind than uncertainty. Planning around variables required creating contingencies to cover the possible undesirable outcomes. Which was fine. To a point. Nopony knew everything, after all; and so having a fallback plan was always necessary. Being prepared was the mark of a good leader. However, if there were too many variables at play, then the number of contingency plans needed could become cumbersome to work with. The middle of a battlefield was a less than ideal place to whip out and consult a flow chart. Contingencies needed to be kept to a minimum, which meant eliminating as many of the outstanding variables as possible beforehoof; and so the mare had gathered up all of the information that she could on the situation in an effort to run the relevant numbers and solve as many of the equations as possible. She eliminated the variables, leaving only the most likely outcomes left to consider. The answer that she’d gotten had been…less than ideal. To put it delicately. But she had still managed to find some measure of comfort in the truth where none at all had been present within the lies of those posters. The mare ascribed that comfort to the answers having allowed her to reach the final stage of grief under the Tuber Moss Model: Acceptance. We won’t win; but at least we tried. Trying mattered. She liked to think that wasn’t a lie. “I heard that they took Fillydelphia in two days.” The purple unicorn managed to peel her eyes away from the distant specks of firelight long enough to look at the pale yellow mare standing beside her. Even in the dim, predawn light, it was easy to make out the trepidation carved into her executive officer’s face as Lieutenant Moondancer stared down with her at the enemy encampment. No. It was more than mere ‘trepidation’, the other mare ruefully admitted to herself; it was fear. Maybe even a tinge of outright despair. It was hard to blame her. The purple unicorn’s own gaze returned to regard the enemy once more, staring down the slope of Canterhorn Mountain at the army which was besieging the last city of ponies. The invading forces had encircled Canterlot the previous day. It was a foregone conclusion that they would attack in the morning. Perhaps as late as the next day, depending on how much artillery they felt like bringing up. “The terrain around Fillydelphia wasn’t very defensible.” The words were more deflection than substance. It was a factually true statement…and little else. It completely overlooked the fact that, according to the reports from the few scouts who’d managed to make it back to Canterlot alive, Fillydelphia had been bombarded very nearly into rubble by hundreds of artillery pieces the likes of which Equestria had never seen before the war; and certainly couldn’t hope to match. Many unicorns were capable of spells which came close to duplicating the destructive power of the enemy’s explosive shells, sure. But most would succumb to burnout after just a few castings. Perhaps a dozen at most. Such destructive spells were extremely energy-intensive, and so drained unicorns quickly. The little purple mare had devised a work-around for that and proven its efficacy. Unfortunately, her methods hadn’t turned out to be very sustainable either. Just in a different way… The enemy siege artillery bombing Equestria into ruin didn’t rely on magic though. It used more mundane methods, and the pieces could fire at a nearly continuous rate so long as they could be supplied with explosive shells. And these invaders had shown no sign that their supply of such destructive munitions was in danger of running out any time soon, given how liberally they were using them during battles and sieges. “Come on. Let’s finish our patrol.” “Yes, ma’am,” Moondancer said with a quick nod before turning and motioning for the rest of the company to move up. The formation of two hundred armored unicorns made their way down the southern slope at a clipped canter, all eyes scanning the forests surrounding the mountainside. Ears swiveled atop heads, seeking out any sign of their enemy. The pickets had reported enemy movement in the forests surrounding Canterlot. The generals feared that spotters for the invader’s artillery were being set into position in preparation for the imminent attack. Their mission was to go out and chase off any of these small enemy units before they could dig in. They were also supposed to find and turn away any enemy scouts that might be trying to get a look at Canterlot’s defenses. Moondancer’s attention tended to focus on the treeline near the base of the mountain. A frown was creasing her muzzle. Then her eyes squinted for a brief moment. “I think I see something in the trees,” she said aloud after a few moments of staring. “I’m going to take a closer look.” Without waiting for her confirmation from her captain, the pale yellow unicorn peeled off a dozen ponies from the rest of the group and charged off before the other mare was even aware of what she’d said. “Lieutenant!” The purple unicorn hissed, but it was too late. The detachment had already accelerated into a gallop and wasn’t looking back. She swore under her breath, briefly torn between the urge to go after her wayward XO and the importance of sticking to their assigned patrol route. Then her own amethyst gaze also caught sight of…something in the treeline. A flicker of movement. There was always the possibility, of course, that it had simply been an animal. A deer or something else of the sort. Possible, but not worth assuming. They needed to operate under the assumption that such a thing was either an enemy forward scout or one of the forward spotters for the artillery they were out here looking for. The unicorn was about to rally the rest of the company to follow the lieutenant. Then she caught sight of another flicker of movement a little further down the treeline. Her lips pursed. Something was wrong. The distance was too great for both points of movement to be associated with the same enemy grouping. At least, assuming what they’d stumbled upon was a picket of some sort. Nor would two separate units have been positioned so close to one another—not on purpose, anyway. A glint of something metallic reflected the waning moonlight. The lavender unicorn instantly recognized the shape of one of the rifles used by their enemy. She’d seen a lot of them. She was seeing a lot of them now. Glints of steel at the edge of the forest. Several more. A dozen. Several scores. The invaders were in the treeline. All along the treeline. These weren’t some of their artillery spotters; they’d moved their whole army into the forest! It was a realization that all but froze the unicorn’s heart. Her mind reeled with the impossibility of it all. They’d all seen the distant pinpricks of firelight in the distance—miles in the distance—denoting the enemy’s camps. Those points of light had been there all night, unwavering. Simultaneously ominous and reassuring in the darkness. For, while those fires showed that the enemy had Canterlot surrounded, they had also shown that the enemy was way over there! It had been a ruse, she realized now. The enemy had moved their lines up from their camps under cover of darkness, getting their forces into position so that they could begin their assault on Canterlot the moment the sun peeked over the horizon. Her company wasn’t facing a dozen or so enemy scouts. There was a battalion or more in those trees. “Moondancer!” The cry was one of desperation. Perhaps even one of futility. All the same, she couldn’t stand by and remain quiet while her XO charged unwittingly to her death. The chiffon mare drew up slightly and turned her head back towards her commanding officer and the rest of the company. “Get back—!” The rest of the warning was drowned out by the rolling thunderclaps of firing rifles as the nearby forest came alive with muzzle flashes. The purple mare watched in utter horror as the dozen unicorns heading towards the forest were mercilessly cut down in a hail of bullets. The steel barding they wore offered no protection from the withering fire that assaulted them. Moondancer didn’t react to the cacophonous gunfire erupting behind her or the slaughter of the ponies nearby. She simply dropped in a heap of limbs and armor, like a marionette which had had its strings cut, dead before she’d had time enough to realize that her life was in danger. Only a few of the ponies with her had lived long enough to get out a scream. The lavender mare’s shock lasted only a heartbeat before years of battle-bred instinct took over. “Contact! In the trees!” She called out at the top of her lungs. “Form ranks and advance!” She ordered. “Two deep!” Her own hooves were already in motion before the commands were fully out of her mouth. She didn’t look back to confirm that the rest of her company was responding to the order. She didn’t need to. The din of hundreds of armored hooves pounding down the mountainside was all the confirmation that the purple unicorn needed. “Charge!” Running these numbers was pretty straightforward. The purple mare wasn’t particularly surprised when the answer she came up with wasn’t an encouraging one. She’d seen the breadth of the firing line sequestered in the trees. It wasn’t difficult to extrapolate that out to a rough number of bodies and from there the approximate size of the group which had apparently advanced up to the base of Canterhorn Mountain under the cover of darkness. The unicorn knew she was leading her ponies into the waiting maw of a numerically vastly superior force. One which also possessed weapons whose lethality far outclassed what Equestria was capable of producing. She knew she was leading her ponies to their deaths. There simply wasn’t any better option. The mountainside behind them was all but devoid of any cover worth considering. Her ponies were out in the open, and well within the range of the enemy’s rifles. To turn and run in an attempt to escape would just mean all of them being shot in the back. But…if she could get her ponies in close—get hoof-to-hoof with the enemy and negate the advantage conferred to them by those Tartarus-damned— The treeline bloomed once more with another broad volley. Ahead of them, the charging formation could see the brilliant orange muzzle flashes which were pelting their formation with fire that was far too effectively placed for the mare’s liking. To say nothing of the absolutely absurd rate of fire that was being maintained! The slender unicorn at the head of the formation felt her lips pulling back into a frustrated sneer as she inwardly cursed their enemy’s superior arms. Equestria had only just unlocked the secrets of gunpowder a scant few decades ago—and had only just begun to explore its military applications with the onset of the invasion. Conversely, she was led to understand that the invaders had refined their own familiarity with the versatile compound over many centuries. That vast gulf of experience was on full display now in the predawn hours. With lethal effect. A mare’s pained whinny sounded immediately to her right, followed swiftly by the agonizing staccato of metal armor and limbs grinding to their final rest upon stony ground. Out of the corner of her eye, the mare spied another pony shifting to fill the gap left in their line by the loss of their slain comrade. Their numbers had thinned noticeably since the start of the charge. “Unicorns, ready!” The cry rose up from her throat. Her own horn ignited with brilliant magenta light. All along the line of charging ponies, bright motes of light made up of nearly any color which could be imagined burst to life. Another cascade of muzzle flashes from the treeline ahead snuffed out the better part of a third of them. The cries of the dying threatened to drown out the sound of pounding hooves and shifting armor. “Release!” A veritable prism of light lanced forth from the line of charging ponies, striking at the treeline concealing their enemy. It was nearly impossible to know how many of their foes they’d slain with the magical assault. The nascent morning hour was still too dim, and the foliage too thick. Nothing about this fight favored her or her ponies. That was almost certainly by design, she suspected. She lit her horn and shot a brilliant flare of magic into the air. A signal to Canterlot that contact had been made with a substantial enemy force. An assault on the city was likely imminent. Every last able defender would be roused and armed—perhaps even those who were less than able. After all, it wasn’t as though there would be much of an opportunity for non-combatants to retreat. There was nowhere left in Equestria for the ponies to retreat to. Canterlot was all that was left. When they fell here— When… …Well, perhaps other races would remember Equestria in stories and history texts. Maybe the enemy would craft a song or two about their final victory that deigned to make mention of who it was they had so utterly destroyed. Her fatalistic thoughts were briefly interrupted by something striking her right cheek. Not a whole bullet, fortunately. Likely just a fragment of one that had ricocheted off of a rock as her squadron was further culled by another salvo of rifle fire; for those were rifles that were being employed against her ponies. Ones which fired with only a hoofful of seconds between rounds, while Equestria’s own craftsmares could barely manage to assemble a proper matchlock that was lucky to fire once a minute. Twice a minute if the user was a well-drilled unicorn; and those shots might land in the approximate vicinity of the target. Presuming the target was standing still and out in the open. And close. If it weren’t for the ‘charity’—though the extortionate prices being charged for the weapons was anything but ‘charitable’—of the griffons in selling them somewhat more comparable arms, the ponies would be launching crossbow quarrels and slinging stones at an adversary who was known to employ— A new source of ear-splitting thunder roared up at the ponies, spewing much fiercer gouts of smoke and flame. “Cannons! Spread ou—!” The unicorn’s orders were lost as an explosive shell detonated a scant few yards behind her. The concussive blast flung her forward, sending the mare tumbling to the ground in a rolling mess of hooves and barding. She opened her mouth to urge what remained of her company—barely a squadron’s worth of ponies now—towards the enemy’s ranks, but all that emerged was a pained cry as every new hurt her body had experienced during her fall announced itself to the world through her throat. She grit her teeth, hard enough that she was genuinely unsure if she’d chipped something or if her mouth was simply filled with dirt and grit from her fall. She willed away the pain with middling success even as she struggled to get back onto her hooves. “Captain!” A stallion’s voice managed to pierce through the ringing in her ears. The mare’s eyes looked onto the armored form of a caramel unicorn holding out his hoof to help her up. “I’ve got you, ma’am!” She reached to take the offered limb— Another crackle of rifle fire echoed up the mountain. A heartbeat later the stallion jerked as no fewer than three bullets effortlessly tore through his steel-plated barding as though he’d been wearing a burlap sack. He fell over dead, his eyes locked open in shock and surprise. She cursed under her breath and wheeled her head around to glare at the offending treeline teeming with the enemy. She flared her horn and issued a magical reprisal for the death of one of her ponies. She’d tried to focus in on where she believed she’d seen a muzzle flash, but it was hard to be sure through the haze of gunsmoke which was settling over the underbrush like fog. Again she struggled to her hooves, succeeding this time in getting all of the way back up to a mostly standing posture. “Pon—” She barely got out even a single syllable before she was forced into a coughing fit by the dust and smoke in her lungs. Judging from the sickly sweet taste in her mouth, she judged that there was a fair bit of blood mixed in as well. “Ponies! On me!” There was only a slightly better than zero chance that anypony had actually managed to hear the order which had come out as more cough than shout. It didn’t matter. Any who hadn’t heard her would at least be able to see her closing with the enemy’s line and fall in at her flanks. She was unsteady on her hooves as she pushed on down the mountain. So much of her hurt. But she shoved the pain aside. It wouldn’t be there for much longer anyway. The cannons fired again, filling the mountainside with fresh explosions, screams, and corpses. Still she pressed on, her hobbled gait stretching into a trot, and then eventually a canter as she managed to find her stride once more. Nopony else was running with her. The unicorn wasn’t sure whether there was anypony left alive to run with her. It didn’t matter. There had been no turning away from this fight once it had begun anyway. She was close enough to spot them now, the shapes moving in the trees. The creatures who had killed her ponies. Who would soon be making their way up Canterhorn Mountain to slaughter everypony else who’d somehow managed to survive the war up to this point. A city packed to bursting with the paltry remnants of Equestria’s ‘civilian population’: those ponies who were simply too young, too old, and too sick or injured to cast a spell or couch a lance and fight. Their killers were reforming their own ranks, preparing to advance up the mountain. “...No you don’t,” the mare was dimly aware she muttered, as her thoughts escaped her lips, heard only by her own ears. “You don’t get to walk up this mountain…” She stretched out her stride even further now, extending her stiff gait into a full gallop. “You don’t get to walk into my home…” Her horn flared, glowing once more with brilliant magical light. “Not while I’m still here to stop you!” Maybe her defiant scream had actually been loud enough to grab their attention. She couldn’t be sure. The words pained her throat so much that she doubted there had been any real volume to her cry. It was more likely that they’d spied her glowing horn as she gathered together all of the magic that she could for her next spell. Her last spell. The last spell. She’d caught them in the midst of forming their lines in preparation for an advance, so nearly every one of the enemy’s forces was out of position and not prepared to fire. Some managed to get off shots though. Rushed and unaimed as they tracked the running unicorn. Rockdust was kicked up by rounds which fell short, pelting her barding with grit. Her ears flickered at the whistles of rounds which went wide to her left and right. One of the enemy’s bullets would have found their mark in her chest, were it not for the violet barrier the unicorn had conjured directly in front of her. It was a ward which would draw at least some of her gathering magic away from the lethal casting she was mustering, lessening its effect; but her spell would have exactly no effect if she died before she could release it. “If I’m going to die here, then I’m at least going to take some of you with me!” Another round sparked off her barrier ward. She was close enough now that she could make out the shocked expressions on several of the enemy soldiers’ faces. Faces that were bathed more in the magenta glow of her charged spell than the orange light of the sun just starting to crest over Canterhorn Mountain. A few fearful gapes suggested that at least some of the enemy recognized what the unicorn intended to do. Her head ached with the overcharged spell. Her lungs burned with the effort of her sprint. Every movement of her limbs was another stab of pain from the many wounds inflicted by shrapnel and her earlier tumble. None of it would matter in a few more seconds. “When you get to Tartarus; tell them Twilight sent—huh?!” As far as last words went, the purple unicorn mare was certain that they’d have been properly pithy. However, her parting quip had been rather abruptly undercut when her view of the confused and cowering soldiers was rather unexpectedly eclipsed by the sudden emergence of a new arrival leaping over the line of soldiers. They veritably vaulted over the hesitating soldiers, interposing themselves in front of the galloping unicorn and her overcharged spell. There was no sign of fear or hesitation on the striped face before her. Only grim determination was visible in those narrowed aquamarine eyes. The new arrival wasn’t alone either. In their company had been a small brown pouch, which had apparently been launched in the unicorn’s direction. Its appearance was surprising, but not immediately concerning. She still had her ward up. The barrier was sturdy enough to turn away rifle fire, even at this extremely close range. A little canvas bag was hardly going to pose any threat. So she ignored it and pressed onward. She just needed to get…a little…closer… The bag struck her ward and burst open. The mare’s world was consumed by a blinding white light. Then she knew only darkness. *** 10 Years Later *** “Oi! Look alive at that rudder; mind the buoys!” The clipper ship listed to the left as the stallion at the ship’s helm snapped into action, barely managing to keep the vessel from wandering outside of the marked lanes off one of the shallows few safe approaches. Twilight Sparkle reared up and wrapped her forelimbs through some nearby rigging to keep herself from being heaved all the way to the other side of the deck as it tilted to what felt to her like a full forty-five degrees. The mare standing beside her barely seemed to react at all to the ship’s violent motion, her hooves rooted to the wooden deck as though they’d been nailed there as she glared balefully at the pony at the helm. The ship passed the buoy and the stallion turned the wheel back the other way, steering the vessel straight once again. He offered his clearly unamused captain a sheepish smile. “Put a reef through my hull, Mister Shanty, and I’ll use your flank for the plug! Savvy?!” The stallion had the good sense to swallow back a lump of fear in response to the non-threat. For it sounded very much to Twilight like the captain was making him a bona fide promise. The ship’s Master Under Sun and Moon, a salty—in both demeanor and likely majority composition of her coat—seafoam earth pony mare named Keelhaul, muttered some largely unintelligible epithets under her breath before saying more clearly: “...Moonfall Islands claimed enough ships as it is. Ain’t keen to add the Lickity to their tally.” She only then looked up to see her passenger disentangling themselves from the rope rigging that they’d latched onto. “Y’alright there, Colonel Sparkle?” “I’m fine; thank you, captain.” The purple unicorn briefly ignited her horn as she invoked her telekinesis to smooth out her uniform. She’d thus far managed to keep it mostly free of sea spray so that she would look properly presentable when they arrived at their destination…and her new home. She’d keep the baby-blue wool jacket and white flank skirt packed away in her trunk during the entirety of their trip just so that it would be in proper order when she assumed her new command. “Two weeks out ‘ere on the blue and you still ain’t got yer sea legs,” the older mare noted with a wry smirk. “Meanin’ no offense there, colonel; but you don’t seem very suited to nautical life.” “No, I’m very much not,” Twilight agreed, flashing the other mare a rueful smile of her own. “The biggest body of water I ever encountered before this trip was the lake under Canterlot Falls.” The ship’s captain quirked a surprised brow “And they assigned you out here?!” She let out a long, bewildered, whistle. “Who’d you piss off to get saddled with this assignment then?” It was a fair question, the unicorn supposed, and one she’d have liked a proper answer to as well. The explanation that she’d been given by her superiors had been…unfulfilling. “Believe it or not, this is supposed to be a reward,” she informed the captain. Keelhawl snorted. “You got ‘rewarded’ by bein’ banished to the middle of the ocean?” A small rueful smile touched the corner of Twilight’s lips. “I only received my promotion to colonel a month ago. Being given command of a whole fort, even one this remote, is a pretty big deal for somepony in my position.” The earth pony mare raised a brow and eyed the other pony. “Y’sure you didn’t piss somepony off an’ they’re tryin’g to get rid of ya?” Twilight frowned now. “I know the posting’s a little remote…” Even as the purple mare said this, her gaze once more took in the desolate rocky archipelago that the ship was sailing through. She was thousands of miles from Equestria—from any nation, really. There was certainly room to argue that Twilight had been ‘banished’. Not that she could have contemplated a reason why this assignment was intended to be treated as a punishment. Equestria wasn’t generally in the habit of punishing their ‘war heroes’ for no reason… “‘Remote’ ain’t the issue,” the ship captain's cackle was hardly encouraging. Then the earth pony fixed the purple mare with a bemused expression. “What? Ain’t nopony told ya about what happened to the other five Harmony fortresses they built out here?” Twilight blinked. “Um…no, now that you mention it.” Nor had the unicorn thought to read up on them. They weren’t where she’d been assigned to, after all. She’d kept the focus of her research on the specific fortress that she was being stationed at. “Are they not around anymore?” Another bark of rough laughter that was far from encouraging. “Oh, they’re ‘around’ alright!” The mare swept out a forehoof in a broad, all encompassing circle around the ship before settling on one direction. “Harmony Fortress-the-First was right over there. Briefly.” Twilight followed the captain’s indicated direction, but found only empty ocean. “The atoll they built it on turned out to be a might on the unstable side, so it sank into the sea before they were quite done buildin’ it.” Twilight winced, still spying no sign that a massive fort had ever existed where the earth pony was pointing. “They built the second fortress on top of the remains of the first, figuring that its forebear would make a decent fort-bearer,” the mare allowed herself a brief chuckle at the pun before continuing. “But they were wrong and it sank into the sea too.” Now Twilight was regarding the captain with an incredulous expression, searching for signs that she was being played for a fool by a joking captain, but the earth pony didn’t appear to notice the look and pressed on with her historical accounting. “And since ‘third time’s a charm’ and all that, they then tried for the hat trick! That one held for a little while…until it burned down, fell over, and then sank into the sea… “Now the fourth fortress—” “Let me guess: it sank into the sea?” “Oh, no,” the captain’s outstretched limb shifted to a new location. This time Twilight’s attention was drawn to a craggy outcropping of an island. “It blew out into the sea. Its magazines exploded.” The unicorn’s eyes widened in shock. Then narrowed as she finally caught a detail that had nearly slipped by her notice. “Wait. Magazines? Plural?” “Yep. All four of’em. At once. Kablooey.” Her hooves pantomimed a massive explosion. “T’wer like a second sunrise, they said.” Now Twilight was frowning again. “That’s not possible. A fortress’ powder magazines are reinforced along the walls and given a deliberately weakened portion of roof so that any explosion is directed up and away from the other magazines, negating the possibility of an accident causing a chain detonation and mitigating harm to the ponies inside the fort.” “Aye,” the ship’s captain nodded her head in solemn agreement. “But I didn’ say nothin’ about it being no ‘accident’, now did I?” There was not even a hint of mirth in the mare’s expression. Twilight looked more intently at the indicated island. Only now did she notice that the ‘rocky outcroppings’ weren’t formed from any true ‘rock’. They were the scattered remains of worked stone. All that was left of the collapsed curtain walls and bulwarks of a fort that used to be and was no more. Its destruction truly did look far too thorough to have been the result of a genuine accident. “Sabotage? By who?” The seafoam earth pony shrugged. “If’n anypony knows, they ain’t made mention of it to me; and I ain’t keen to know, t’ be honest.” “...And the fifth Harmony Fortress?” Twilight was almost afraid to learn the fate of the next incarnation at this point. “NoPoNy KnOwS~” Keelhaul replied with the exaggerated inflection and wide eyes of somepony regaling a foal with a ghost story. Then she snickered and pointed her hoof out at another island off in the distance. This island was rather smooth and bare in appearance. There was certainly no sign that anything had collapsed into the sea or been destroyed. In fact, it didn’t even look like anything had ever been built there at all. “It was right over there. For all of about a week after the last stone was laid, is the best guess.” “‘Best guess’?” Another shrug from the earth pony. “Nopony was here to see for sure,” she said, sounding nonplussed despite the absurdity of her assertion. “Best as I know it, the last of the ships carrying the engineers left the anchorage…and when the transports with its proper garrison arrived, there wasn’t a fort no more! The ships spent three days wandering the archipelago jus’ in case they’d been given bad charts. Their charts were bang on, o’course. But the fort weren’t where it was s’pposed to be; and ain’t nopony seen nor heard from anypony t’was there since. To say nothin’ of the fort itself. “‘S’like it vanished into the aether.” Twilight felt herself frown at that, unable to point out the technical flaw with the analogy. “Nothing can vanish ‘into the aether’,” she countered. “The aether is just a transient non-dimension. It doesn’t have any physical space that can actually be occupied by anything from the Prime Material Plane. Things pass through the aether, but nothing stays there.” The earth pony mare rolled her eyes. It wasn’t clear to Twilight whether the captain had actually taken any of her explanation to heart. “Well, if’n the fort popped back out of the aether somewhere, ain’t nopony found it—or the ponies t’were in it—since. Might as well be on the moon, for all anypony knows. “In any event…” The mare’s words hung in the air as the ship’s captain turned back to face the bow and peered past her unicorn passenger. “...Y’ain’t here to lead none of the Harmonys what ain’t here no more. You, Colonel Sparkle, are here for that,” she pointed her hoof past the purple mare, drawing Twilight’s gaze ahead of the ship. “Harmony Fortress, sixth—and hopefully last—of her name.” Twilight’s amethyst eyes followed the outstretched foreleg to just a point or two off the starboard bow of the little clipped ship she was riding. They were just clearing an outcropping that was barely worthy of being called an ‘island’, and the unicorn caught sight of the distant fortress that could only be their destination. What surprised the unicorn the most, she supposed, was the sheer scale of it all. They were still several miles away from the island hosting the fortress, and yet she could make out the contours of its towering curtain walls and the many parapets which dotted those intimidating walls. It was the most well-defended fortress that the unicorn had ever seen in her life. A part of her cynically noted that she was judging the station by pony standards, and found herself darkly wondering if a zebra war cruiser would need to fire two salvos or three in order to completely level it… She shook the thought from her mind. There was no need for it. The zebras were now allies of Equestria—and while Twilight was certainly grateful for that fact, she was unable to come up with a personally satisfactory reason as to why that was the case—and so their formidable weapons and ships would would be pointed away from her and her ponies, and not towards them. A welcome change. Indeed, for the moment at least, Equestria had no enemies. At most there were a few races who remained largely indifferent to the existence of ponies, and these existed mostly among the minor races who controlled what amounted to city-states or micronations of one sort or another. Like the donkeys or the yaks. Among the major powers, the ponies actually enjoyed quite amicable relations. Aside from the surprising turn of amiability from the zebras, Equestria had long held pleasant relations with the griffons. That relationship had morphed only slightly since the war, in response to the massive debt which the ponies owed to those who had sold them the weapons which let them stave off total annihilation as long as they had. The dragons too didn’t seem to bear Equestria any ill will. Likely because they had none to spare, saving it wholly for the griffons whose oppression they had only relatively recently thrown off after nearly a century of occupation and plunder of their lands by their avian neighbors. There was something of an armistice which existed between the two races now. A cold war which threatened to go hot with a misplaced word. As far as Twilight was concerned, keeping tempers cooled between those two belligerents would represent a primary focus during her tenure as the commander of Harmony Six. After all, finding a way to maintain the peace between all the races of Equus was the whole goal of the Harmony Project. Their friction would provide something of a litmus test for the project’s effectiveness. It wouldn’t be easy, her mission; but it was important. Few likely knew that as well as Twilight Sparkle did. She’d seen the consequences of a shattered peace. She saw them still, on the occasional night. Smelled the blood and the saltpeter. Heard the screaming—the cries of pain and the begging for the final loving embrace of a mother before the end. Her mission here was important. Perhaps the most important mission of all: the fostering of Harmony between the races of the world. It was a goal that Twilight vowed she would pay any price to uphold. The world would not be bathed in darkness and blood. “...Not while I’m here to stop it.” Author's Note Welcome to the start of what is planned to be a trilogy not-so-subtly inspired by Babylon 5 :P Don't worry if you've never seen the show (but if you haven't...why?!), like Ponytech, knowledge of the source material isn't required to enjoy the story. It just helps catch the occasional reference or in-joke. I hope everyone enjoys this little re-imagining of Season 1 of FiM with a J. Michael Straczynski twist! As always, a thumbs up and comment are always greatly appreciated If you like the cover art and want to see more stories get them, I've set up a Cover Art Fund if you're interested and have any bits lying around!
Chapter 9: Voices of Authority (Part 1)Colonel Twilight Sparkle watched as the small team of winged ponies expertly directed the local winds around the incoming ship in order to allow the otherwise cumbersome vessel to dock at the fort’s cramped Mission Docks. Strictly speaking, the third-rate ship of the line was larger than the sort of vessel which would typically be permitted to dock at the piers reserved for use by diplomats and dignitaries. Nations with embassies on the island were encouraged to limit the ships serving their ambassadors to smaller sloops and courier ships which had limited armaments. It was felt that having warships serving the delegations would undermine the message of peace which Harmony was trying to promote. Exceptions to this rule were allowed on a case-by-case basis, however. So long as the party seeking an exception gave proper notice well in advance. After all, piracy was a fact of life on the open water and some of the dignitaries traveling to and from the island might be seen as tempting hostages by more unsavory types. If a nation felt that its representative’s safety was best served by sending them to Harmony aboard a properly armed frigate of war, then that ship was permitted to berth itself at the fort’s Mission Docks while it offloaded its precious cargo. Such was the case with the Equestrian ship of the line presently docking. It was one of the larger warships in the Equestrian navy, boasting seventy-four canons arrayed along three dedicated gun-decks. It wasn’t the largest or most powerful class of ship in the Equestrian navy, Twilight knew, but it was certainly a formidable vessel. The little purple unicorn’s gaze drifted down from the pegasus team corralling the ship down to the vessel itself. Her eyes drifted down its masts until they came to rest on the figurehead adorning the bow. The elegantly-carved unicorn mare’s coat had been painted a pearl white, while her flowing mane had been done up in a two-tone pink. The color still shone quite brilliantly in spite of the generally abusive treatment that most paints received from wind, wave, and salt, while crossing the ocean. The carving had almost certainly been the subject of a recent touch-up prior to the ship’s arrival at Harmony in the name of making a good impression. While the name of the ship painted on the stern was not visible from where Twilight and the rest of the delegation were standing, the unicorn knew what it was from the notice that she’d received several weeks prior. She also knew that, for the duration of the vessel’s trip across the sea, the ship’s given name actually constituted a secondary designation. Because, while Fleur De Lis might be what was actually painted on the ship of the line, its current—official—designation was: ‘Equestria One’. Twilight’s attention briefly darted to the masts of the two Equestrian naval frigates anchored further off the island’s shore which had served as escorts for the larger warship. Their crews would be ferried on and off the island for the duration of their stay via cutters and other smaller boats like normal. However, it had been understandably decided that it was better—and safer—for all concerned for the Chancellor of Equestria to disembark directly onto the docks from his ship. While cutters were generally quite safe, it wasn’t unheard of for the tiny boats to be capsized by the occasional rogue wave. Twilight even recalled an account of ‘the shortest command in history’ when a newly-appointed captain for a ship never actually made it onto the vessel’s deck; instead slipping and falling into the water while trying to get out of the boat that had ferried them to the frigate…and promptly drowned. The little mare turned to regard the welcome delegation that had been assembled…again. Her gaze didn’t linger on Major Rarity for long, as the ivory unicorn could always be counted on to present herself with an impeccably assembled uniform. The fort’s executive officer had thus also been enlisted to review the uniforms and appearance of every other pony who would be in attendance on the dock to greet their nation’s chief elected official. The vein throbbing on Captain Applejack’s temple was barely visible now, having ebbed significantly from its peak after Rarity had fussed over the security head’s vest for the better part of thirty minutes. She quickly reviewed the other assembled ponies in the formation before returning her attention back to Rarity. “Am I still good?” Twilight asked, straightening up so that the other unicorn could judge the lie of her uniform. The XO’s lips quirked into a small smile before her horn briefly lit in order to tweak one of Twilight’s medals. “You look fine, ma’am. You need to relax, colonel! The chancellor is just here to tour the fortress; you’re acting like it’s a performance review.” “It’s exactly like a performance review!” Twilight countered. Then she quickly clamped down on the audible note of rising anxiety in her voice. She spared a moment to take in a deep breath and let it out slowly before continuing. “I’ve been commander of Harmony Fortress long enough that everything is being run the way that I want it. If the chancellor sees something that he doesn’t like, then I’m the pony he’ll hold responsible! This is my first real command in years. If he spots any serious regulatory violations then it could be my last command—” “We’ve conducted three reviews of the entire fortress every day fer th’past week,” Captain Applejack deadpanned. Her eyes briefly glazed over as she relived the past week’s tedium in vivid detail. The orange earth pony shuddered at the prospect of having to go through another of the exacting inspections again after finally having felt the sweet relief of knowing those trials were over with. “He ain’t gonna find nothin’ out of regs.” Most of the earth pony mare’s certainty of that last remark was rooted in the fact that the island’s staff had been a clear warning by the orange pony that, should the Equestrian chancellor find anypony out of compliance with established protocols or procedures, the offender would be discharged from Harmony. Immediately. Via cannon. Applejack hadn’t decided yet if her threat had been hyperbolic. “He might! Major: stall him. I’m going to make another quick sweep of the—” The ivory unicorn spotted the pleading look being given to her by the senior security officer and took quick action. Her hoof came down on Twilight’s tail, drawing the mare up short as she started to turn around and trot away. The major’s horn then lit up, her magic lancing in the direction of the docked warship where it grabbed hold of the gangway which was being moved into position far too slowly for her liking. Rarity’s telekinesis forcibly hauled the bridging between the ship and the dock into place, much to the surprise of the crewmembers who’d been attending to the task. “Oh goodness me,” Major Rarity remarked, feigning surprise while still keeping her senior pinned in place. “It seems that the ship has finished docking. It would reflect incredibly poorly on a commanding officer if they weren’t present to greet their nation’s head of state,” the mare went on to none-too-gently suggest. Twilight winced before turning back around to face the ship. The little purple mare forced her features into something of a pleasant smile as she waited with dread for the chancellor to disembark. The Equestrian delegation appeared at the far end of the ramp. The unicorn stallion at its head largely embodied what most ponies tended to envision when they thought about what a ‘proper stallion’ looked like: The alabaster stallion was tall, well-built, impeccable groomed in both coat and mane, and was dressed in a dignified suit jacket. While Twilight had never had the opportunity to interact with the chancellor directly, she’d heard him speak in public on a couple of occasions and he came across as an exceptionally articulate stallion. Assuming that the stallion wasn’t just putting on an act for the voters, he was an exception to the rule regarding self-obsessed and corrupt politicians. The Harmony Project had actually been one of Fancy Pants’ initiatives before he was elected chancellor, back when the stallion was just a rising star in the Canterlot political scene after the war. While this suggested to Twilight that she wouldn’t have much to worry about when it came to getting the fortress funding and political support, it also made the little mare keenly aware that the civilian head of the Equestrian government might very likely view this peace initiative as being ‘his baby’, and thus might take exception to anypony he felt was ‘mismanaging’ it. Twilight’s ear flicked at the sound of a rather appreciative “Mm-mmm…” coming from Major Rarity’s direction. The purple unicorn managed to keep herself from reacting to her usually straight-laced XO’s uncharacteristic reaction to the appearance of the chancellor. Besides, Twilight was confident that even if she had turned to glare at the major, she’d find that the other mare’s expression had been soured by the sight of the pony following along in Fancy Pants’ wake. The more cynical might find themselves wondering if Vice Chancellor Neighsay had been chosen as a running mate specifically based upon his looks. Or, more precisely: due to his lack of traditionally good looks. After all, at a glance, the unicorn following in Fancy Pants’ wake was just about everything that the chancellor was not. The dull gray stallion was spindly, with gaunt, angular features, and a mane and tail style that was best described as: “all of the pomade please”. Placing the walking perpetual scowl next to the chancellor only served to further emphasize how much closer to the ideal Fancy Pants was. However, by all accounts, the vice chancellor was indeed a competent politician and had almost certainly been selected because he could be counted on to help push Fancy Pants’ initiatives through the legislature. None of that changed the fact that the gray unicorn was an abrasive and thoroughly unpleasant pony to interact with. At least, according to what Twilight had heard from those unfortunate enough to make the vice chancellor’s acquaintance. “Oh, great…” This time the unsolicited comment was from Applejack. At first, Twilight wondered if the earth pony mare might have had a previous unpleasant interaction with Neighsay, but then she realized that her head of security’s reaction had only come once a third stallion stepped fully into view. The followup the orange mare mumbled under her breath confirmed that Applejack’s objection wasn’t to either of the unicorn dignitaries. “They brought a dern vamp…” While Twilight made a note about discussing her subordinate’s specific choice of terminology, she found herself mostly agreeing with the expressed sentiment as she saw the pony walking down the gangway in the wake of the unicorns. He was an older stallion with a slate-gray coat and short-cropped black mane. Wings were folded in against his sides. However, they weren’t composed of feathers like those of a typical pegasus. Rather, the stallion’s wings were leathery in appearance. Ears with excessively-long tufts of hair at their tips further confirmed the pony’s species as being a batpony, Equestria’s lesser known fourth pony type. Even within the borders of the pony nation, batponies weren’t all that common to see. They tended to be insular and keep to their communes in the mountains. That tendency to isolate was only further reinforced by the fact that, under Equestrian law, batponies were required to observe certain restrictions while out in public. The first was that batponies had to file down their fangs whenever they ventured down from their mountain homes. As Twilight understood it, those blunted fangs would regrow after a time if they were fully yanked out, so batponies did have an option for regaining their natural state if and when they returned home. The other major consideration was that batponies were required to wear thick sunglasses at all times while around non-batponies. The stallion trailing Fancy Pants and Neighsay was presently wearing such heavily tinted lenses right now. And while it was impossible to see the state of his teeth through his smug smirk at this very moment, Twilight had no reason to doubt that a batpony in the company of Equestia’s leaders wouldn’t be abiding by Equestrian law. “What inna…?” Captain Applejack managed to quash the rest of her breathless dismay, but only just barely. Twilight did a better job of masking her own shock, but that too was a near thing. A single batpony was an uncommon sight in Equestria. A whole squad of them being in one place was unheard of. Or, at least it had been unheard of. Until today. In the wake of the first tufted-eared stallion came another. Then a mare behind them. Then another. In all, seven batponies strode down the gangway off the Fleur De Lis, with six of them wearing deep purple flight suits trimmed with black. A patch with a winged skull was sewn onto their hips. Twilight didn’t recognize it. She also couldn’t tell if those other batponies were wearing the mandated tinted lenses through their lacquered flight helmets. It was possible that the headgear had tinting built into them, but the unicorn couldn’t tell from this distance. The fortress’ commander didn’t have much time to take a close look before the chancellor reached the pier though, and Twilight was forced to wrench her gaze away from the unusual sight of the flock of batponies and focus her attention fully on the guest of honor. The little purple mare snapped sharply to attention and took in a deep breath. “Ponies! Atten—shun!” The mare was encouraged to hear the chorus of booted hooves coming together behind her in near-perfect unison. She kept her amethyst eyes locked on Fancy Pants as the ivory unicorn stallion crossed the remaining distance between them on the docks. When he was just a few strides away, Twilight raised a foreleg and snapped it to her chest in a crisp salute. “Mister Chancellor, on behalf of my ponies, I would like to welcome you to Harmony Six.” The well-dressed stallion’s lips spread into a warm smile as he inclined his head slightly in Twilight’s direction. “Colonel Sparkle, thank you for the warm reception,” the chancellor said, speaking in the High Canterlot accent that so many of the capital’s career politicians seemed to favor. He glanced around, shifting slightly on his hooves as he briefly took in the sight of the gathered formations of uniformed ponies that made up the honor guard which had been assembled to welcome him. “As much as I’m grateful for the welcome,” he went on, favoring Twilight with a wry smirk, “I must admit that I’m even more grateful to finally have solid ground under my hooves. “Sailing halfway around the world is a far cry from enjoying an afternoon yachting around the lake, it turns out,” the stallion confided with a wink. While the chancellor had yet to actually return Twilight’s salute, the purple mare suspected that the other unicorn might not be wholly familiar with military etiquette. To the best of her knowledge, the chancellor had never served. Instead, she took his acknowledgement of her greeting as tacit permission to drop her own salute and continue on with the introductions. Twilight even permitted herself a commiserating quirk of her own lips as she recalled how her own voyage to the island had left her feeling. “It does feel like it can take a while to get used to the ground not heaving, doesn’t it, chancellor?” She extended her hoof towards Major Rarity. “May I introduce my executive officer, Major Rarity? While you’re on Harmony, she’ll be acting as your concierge. If there’s anything you or your staff need, she’ll be able to get it for you.” The ivory mare’s face was plastered with a broad smile that was something a little more than merely ‘warm’ as the major executed a modest bow in the chancellor’s direction. “Anything at all, Chancellor Fancy Pants,” Rarity echoed. Twilight wasn’t sure, but it sounded to her as though her XO’s accent had shifted just a bit to more closely align with the stallion’s own. “Please don’t hesitate to make any request; no matter how big or small. I’m also willing to show you around. I know all of the best restaurants on the island, including one that serves excellent Equestrian cuisine that will have you feeling like you’re back in Canterlot! “I’m certain that I can secure the two of us a reservation for a table any time you’d like,” Rarity went on. Twilight assumed that one of the major’s eyelashes had come off and fallen into her eye, going by the amount of blinking that the mare was engaged in just now. “Would this evening be too soon or—?” “—My head of security, Captain Applejack!” Twilight announced, taking back control of the conversation from her executive officer with perhaps just a tiny bit more volume than was strictly necessary. She gestured to the orange earth pony, who offered a slight nod of her head in the stallion’s direction. “She’ll be coordinating with your own security staff during your stay.” It was only now that Twilight became aware of the ponies that she hadn’t seen since the chancellor had gotten off the ship: the soldiers making up his protection detail. She looked back in the direction of the Fleur De Lis to see if any of those ponies might have disembarked while she’d been making introductions. It was easy enough to see that this wasn’t the case, as all of the ponies moving off the ship right now were obviously crew and porters. There wasn’t any sign of the ponies who should have been acting as bodyguards for Equestria’s leadership. Unless— The batpony stallion that had trotted off the ship just after Fancy Pants and Neighsay stepped forward now, his shaded gaze locked onto the orange earth pony. His smug smile became a little broader as he spoke. “Agent Nightshade, head of the Equestrian Bureau of Peace and Serenity.” He extended a leathery wing towards the earth pony in place of the customary hoof. The fortress’ head of security spent a few awkward moments hesitantly raising her own hoof as she contemplated how to accept the batpony’s offered greeting. Twilight thought Nightshade’s smile grew a little while as he watched Applejack fumble for those few seconds. “It looks like the two of us will be working together, captain.” “Ah’m lookin’ forward to it,” the orange mare managed to return in an even tone. “‘Equestrian Bureau of Peace and Serenity’?” Twilight said, seeking clarification from the newly-arrived dignitaries that she’d gotten the name correct. “I’m sorry, I don’t believe that I’ve ever heard of that particular agency before—” It was Vice-Chancellor Neighsay who spoke up now. “It’s a new initiative,” he explained. “At the moment, you’re looking at the entirety of its staff,” the dull gray unicorn admitted, a hoof gesturing in the direction of all seven batponies. “However, it will be growing quickly in the coming years as the agency is assigned additional responsibilities. “For now, the EBPS is charged with providing security for the chancellor and myself.” “...I see,” Twilight said. “Is there any particular reason that there aren’t any members of the Equestrian Cavalry assigned to the security detail? I’m sorry, I’m not trying to suggest that these ponies wouldn’t be up to the task,” the purple unicorn quickly hedged, indicating the uniformed batponies. “It’s just that, if they’re part of a civilian agency, I don’t want there to be any confusion when it comes to how the chain of command works while they’re working with our own soldiers.” “There won’t be any confusion,” Neighsay insisted, “because Agent Nightshade answers directly to me—,” the vice-chancellor abruptly coughed and cleared his throat. “My apologies: the agent and his team report directly to myself and Chancellor Fancy Pants. Any instructions from him should be treated no differently than instructions from either of us.” The little purple unicorn opened her mouth, on the cusp of pointing out that there was a technical violation of the chain of command that the vice chancellor might not be aware of. Fancy Pants enjoyed a position as the head of the executive branch of the Equestrian government, and that granted the stallion unilateral control of the military through his chosen generals. However, that was the pathway that any instructions from the chancellor were supposed to take: from himself, through his generals, and then to herself. Or, under unique circumstances like this, Fancy Pants could directly order Twilight—or really any officer—to do whatever he wanted. That really wasn’t an issue. However, there was an issue when a civilian was used as the relay for his orders. Nightshade wasn’t an officer. He didn’t hold a commission that placed him over Twilight or any of her staff. Legally, the agent couldn’t tell Applejack to do anything. Even if what the batpony was telling her to do did come directly from the chancellor. That was why the chancellor usually traveled with members of the Cavalry on his staff: to act as that official bridge with the local military commanders. On the other hoof, Twilight supposed that there wasn’t really a reason to make a big deal of this. Agent Nightshade’s requests would be in the best interests of the chancellor’s safety, and Twilight hardly expected Fancy Pants to have to seek her out directly every time he wanted her to do something. It was a minimal violation of the regulations, and temporary besides. “Of course, Mister Vice Chancellor,” Colonel Twilight finally said, nodding her head at Neighsay. The purple unicorn decided that it was likely best to move the welcome along. “If you’re feeling up to it, chancellor,” she said, looking back at Fancy Pants now, “a reception has been prepared for you at the North Garden?” She held the questioning note in case the chancellor decided that he’d prefer to recover from his voyage. “That sounds positively lovely, colonel.” Fancy Pants glanced at the unicorn stallion standing beside him. “Are you up for it, Neighsay?” “Actually, Mister Chancellor, if it’s all the same to you, I’d rather get settled into my temporary office and prepare for the inspection.” Twilight’s ears perked up upon hearing the last word. “Inspection?” The mare was fairly certain that she’d kept the level of dread in her voice down to a minimum. “I wasn’t told that there’d be an inspection, sir.” She managed—somehow—not to glare in Major Rarity’s direction. The other unicorn had stopped her from performing another review of the fortress after all. So if the chancellor found anything out of regulations— Fancy Pants already had a placating hoof in the air, waving away Twilight’s concerns. “Relax, colonel, it’s not the sort of ‘inspection’ that you’re likely thinking of. We’re not looking for anything that you’ve done wrong,” he assured her before chuckling to himself. “Quite the contrary, in fact. We’re looking for anything that we’ve done wrong!” “Sir?” “Harmony Six is the first fortress of its kind to manage to actually complete construction and remain in operation for any worthwhile length of time,” the chancellor explained, his smile taking on a slightly more sardonic look to it now. “While Equestria’s engineers and top minds spent a considerable amount of time trying to design an island fortress that would meet the expectations that a place like Harmony Six has on it, I suspect that I don’t need to explain to you, colonel, how theory only takes a pony so far. “One of the primary reasons for our visit is so that Neighsay and I can see what needs to be done in order to let Harmony Six perform its function to the utmost of its ability. “For example,” the chancellor said, gesturing out towards the surrounding sea. “I noticed quite a few ships that were anchored outside the fortress’ docks. Would I be correct in assuming that they’re waiting for a pier to become available? And would I also be correct in assuming that it’s fairly typical to have that many ships waiting to be attended to?” “Um, yes, Mister Chancellor,” Twilight acknowledged. “But I assure you that the dockworkers are doing everything that they can to move ships along—” The unicorn would have continued, but was silenced by a raised hoof from the taller unicorn stallion. “As I said, colonel: I’m not here to place any blame on you or your ponies for any shortcomings which can clearly be better attributed to the fortress’ design,” Fancy Pants said. “Obviously the biggest issue is that Harmony Six is simply seeing more traffic than its designers anticipated. That’s hardly something that you can be blamed for now is it, colonel?” “No, sir,” Twilight conceded. “Then that’s something that the vice chancellor and I need to see gets addressed.” Fancy Pants looked at the gray unicorn in question. “Neighsay, let’s go ahead and make a note of that: have the engineers back home see if there’d be any way to increase the dock space.” “Of course, Mister Chancellor.” Neighsay’s horn lit with a peach aura and extracted a notebook from his saddlebag. A quill jotted down a brief entry before both were returned to the compartment on his side. He then looked to Major Rarity. “Now, if I can be shown where we’ll be quartered during our stay, major?” “Yes, Mister Vice Chancellor,” the white unicorn mare said, indicating for Neighsay to follow her. Two of the uniformed batponies followed in their wake, along with a few of Harmony’s own soldiers. Fancy Pants favored Twilight with another of the winning smiles that had likely played a role in getting him votes from mares like Major Rarity. “Now, I believe that there was mention of a reception in a garden?” Their small procession walked through the fortress. Twilight had actually elected to take the chancellor on a more roundabout path so that he could see some of the more notable sights of the island. Captain Applejack and Agent Nightshade trailed a short distance behind her and the chancellor. A few of the earth pony mare’s MPs had arranged themselves into something of a perimeter around their group, while the four members of Nightshade’s squad that hadn’t gone with Vice Chancellor Neighsay leisurely circled overhead. Twilight wondered if any of the others felt the same deep-seated sense of unease about the dark bat-winged forms hovering above them like vultures. “—Harmony Six has become a thriving center for commerce,” Twilight was explaining as they walked. “Which is impressive, given the short time that it’s been in operation. While the island itself doesn’t host many local industries, it is an ideal anchorage for ships crossing between the surrounding continents. The customs duties have allowed us to be almost entirely self-sufficient.” “Something that I’ve been lording over parliament every time one of my political opponents moves to try and cancel the Harmony Project,” Fancy Pants said with a pleased nod. “And, as we both noted earlier: you’d be able to collect even more of those duties if you had more dock space. It wouldn’t shock me if Harmony ended up turning a profit in another couple of years! “Not that this was ever meant to be a source of real revenue for Equestria,” the unicorn stallion acknowledged. “But, if Harmony Six starts to operate ‘cost free’ to Equestria, it’ll make expending the bits to build additional such fortresses more palatable to the public.” “Other Harmony Fortresses, sir?” Twilight ventured. The notion admittedly perplexed the mare a little. As she understood it, the island was chiefly intended to serve as neutral ground for the representatives of the nations of the world to meet and negotiate with each other. Having multiple such diplomatic enclaves all over the world seemed redundant. In fact, it might even undermine the mission of bringing peace. What happened if the delegations on two different islands reached conflicting agreements with each other? “That’s admittedly more Neighsay’s brainchild than my own,” Fancy Pants said. “He envisions Equestrian outposts scattered around the globe that would allow us to better coordinate with our allies in maintaining the peace,” he explained. “Frankly, I think that’s a smashing idea. “It’ll mean expanding Equestria’s military a good bit, so that we can provide all of those additional fortresses with the proper expeditionary forces to support them and whatever peacekeeping efforts might be required, but that’s a ways off in the future, I think. “For right now, I want to focus on making Harmony Six the shining example of peace and cooperation it can be.” He looked around them at the bustling market stalls lining the street that they were walking down. “Just like this!” The chancellor’s eyes suddenly went wide. Twilight was about to ask him what was wrong when his expression became almost giddy. He pointed a hoof and leaned in towards Twilight in order to whisper in her ear. “Look at that: a dragon and a griffon! Walking together!” Twilight turned to follow where Fancy Pants was pointing. She’d had a pretty good idea of what she was going to find and so wasn’t entirely surprised to see the speckled gray griffon hen and the little purple drake walking into a restaurant together. She’d seen the two diplomatic aides in each others’ company a time or two outside of the Council Chamber. The purple mare didn’t know the details of their relationship with each other, but she did recognize that the pair were much more level-headed than their respective ambassadors. Most Council meetings ended with Twilight desperately wondering why those two couldn’t have been the representatives for their races. “I see that this project is already making historic strides!” The little purple mare opened her mouth…and then closed it again. As much as Twilight wanted to point out to the chancellor that Spike and Gabriella’s apparent friendship was an aberration, rather than anything approaching a common occurrence…she also wanted the chancellor to recognize that Harmony was a project worth being continued. Besides, for all Twilight knew, the only reason that those two were friends was because of Harmony Six. So, in that way, Fancy Pants wasn’t wrong… “The dragons and griffons are talking with each other a lot more,” Twilight said with deliberately chosen words. Yelling was a form of talking. The little purple mare could feel the weight of Captain Applejack’s stare behind her. “I’ve heard that they’re shooting at each other a lot more too,” Agent Nightshade chimed in, his smirk remaining as insufferable as it had been since he’d stepped off the Fleur De Lis. Twilight winced slightly. “Technically,” the mare carefully countered, “no forces formally acknowledged to be aligned with either government have exchanged fire with each other.” “Not every member of any given race is a part of that race’s recognized government,” Fancy Pants acknowledged, looking back over his shoulder at the batpony stallion. “There are pony pirates in the world too,” the chancellor pointed out. “Indeed there are, chancell—” The rest of the leather-winged pony’s response was interrupted by his collision with a cyan earth pony stallion who’d apparently not been paying attention to where he was walking. Both of the ponies involved stumbled and a number of items fell to the ground, to include several boxes that the earth pony had been carrying and Nightshade’s sunglasses. “Oh! Goodness, I am so sorry!” The earth pony launched into an almost instantaneous apology. “I wasn’t paying attention, which I obviously should have been,” he went on to offer by way of acknowledging fault. “Especially with how busy it is around here! I was just in a hurry to get back home and—oh, wow! Is that the chancellor?! Chancellor Fancy Pants! I don’t suppose I can—” Nightshade whipped his head around and glared at the cyan stallion standing near him. His self-satisfied smirk was nowhere to be seen now. In its place was a seething snarl that exposed his blunted fangs. Furious blood-red eyes glared at the earth pony. “Shut. Up.” The cyan stallion’s mouth instantaneously slammed closed with an audible click. The pony visibly recoiled away from the batpony, his own fearful green eyes locked onto the agent’s. Above them, the rest of Nightshade’s squad had descended closer to the group that they were escorting. They didn’t land or take direct action. They simply hovered and watched the head of their nascent bureau deal with the intruder. Nightshade kept his unblinking gaze locked onto the earth pony. “Grab your shit and leave. Now.” The other stallion nodded slowly before gathering his fallen property back up onto his back and hurriedly trotting away without a word. The batpony watched him leave for several more seconds before letting out an annoyed huff of air and scooping up his sunglasses with a wing. He carefully slipped the tinted lenses back over his eyes, but not before he’d flicked his gaze in Twilight’s direction for a brief moment. It was a faint sensation, and brief besides. The little unicorn had to wonder if most would have noticed it at all. She’d spent time in university learning about various charms and potions which could influence a pony and how to defend against them. Part of that education had necessitated being subjected to those very charms in the interests of recognizing when she was potentially being magically influenced. The mare perceived the sensation as pressure. Something pressing down on her mind in an effort to suborn it to another’s will. Twilight had become keenly sensitive to the feeling during her studies. To the point where she’d been able to feel the telltale signs of a caster preparing to make the attempt. To her, it wasn’t unlike a pony using their hoof to gauge the sturdiness of the ice covering a lake. She’d felt that tentative hoof pushing down on her just now, when Nightshade’s gaze had briefly met her own. Just a slight pressure, lightly applied…and gone the instant the tinted lenses blocked his crimson irises from sight. “Are you quite alright, agent?” Fancy Pants inquired. The smirk was back on the batpony’s face as he regarded the unicorn stallion. “I’m fine, Mister Chancellor. No harm done.” He glanced up at the still-hovering flight of batponies and flicked his wing at them. The four fliers immediately climbed back into the air and resumed their lazy circling. “T-this way, Chancellor Fancy Pants,” Twilight said, shrugging off the passing sensation that she’d felt. “I think that you’ll find Cowtown—er, I mean: Zone Four—interesting.” As the purple unicorn led their procession, Captain Applejack shifted the positions within their little herd until she was trotting beside Twilight and Nightshade was with the chancellor. “Y’alright, colonel? Y’looked a might spooked fer jus’ a moment—” “I’m fine.” The second the words were out of her mouth, the mare knew that they’d been said too quickly to be easily believed. Her head of security raised a patient brow and waited for the inevitable correction that was going to follow when a pony was caught in that blatant of a lie. “I’m okay,” Twilight tried again, doing a better job of sounding like she meant it. “Really.” “...Alright. If’n y’say so.” Applejack didn’t press the matter after that, for which the unicorn was grateful. The rest of the tour that afternoon passed without any additional incidents. The chancellor was simultaneously thrilled that so many species had made Harmony Six their home, but also a little disappointed that the residents had more or less segregated themselves into distinct sections of the fortress. Twilight managed to satisfactorily explain that it was a bare minimum of segregation, and only because the physical differences between the races made total residential integration the next best thing to impossible. A minotaur was never going to be comfortable living in an apartment building designed for ponies, and vice-versa. Griffons only felt comfortable nesting up high along the island’s central mountain, but there wasn’t any way you were going to convince a Saddle Arabian to stay up at that altitude for any longer than was absolutely necessary. There were some overlapping species, of course: pegasi and hippogriffs didn’t generally mind being neighbors with griffons. Diamond dogs, minotaurs, and dragons enjoyed the same dark cavernous spaces dug into the mountain. Besides, whatever each species might prefer when it came to where they slept, they all would hang out and shop in many of the same areas. In that way, Harmony had very much succeeded in creating a place where every species of the planet could associate. At least, every species that wasn’t on the brink of war with one another… A leader of one of the internationally-recognized Great Powers paying the island a visit wasn’t a minor affair. It was also, in many ways, a de facto ‘diplomatic function’. While Chancellor Fancy Pants wasn’t on Harmony for the purpose of negotiating treaties, it wouldn’t do to have the elected leader of ponykind not tap hooves and shake hands with the ambassadors of the other races represented on the island. As a result, the reception in the garden that afternoon was attended by just about every dignitary who could attend… …With two notable exceptions. It had not been the most pleasant conversation in the world that Twilight could recall having. Both times she’d needed to have it. Neither Ambassador Gilda nor Ember had been initially receptive to the idea of getting ‘snubbed’ by being excluded from the party. Which, the unicorn was forced to acknowledge, was fair: the griffons and dragons were two of the five premiere powers on the planet. It should be looked at as a slight to forbid them from attending. And so Twilight hadn’t. Technically. What she had done—and what the chancellor had agreed to in order to make the fortress commander’s plan work—was let Gilda and Ember know that, if both of them turned out to simply be ‘too busy’ to attend the garden reception because of prior commitments, then Fancy Pants would be more than happy to attend any function that the griffon or dragon ambassador might happen to want to host at a later date—provided both ambassadors didn’t try and double-book the chancellor. Fortunately, both of the ambassadors had agreed to the compromise, which meant that neither they—nor their aides—were in attendance today. Which—hopefully—meant that the party wouldn’t end the same way that far too many of the Council sessions did: with a screaming match that threatened to devolve into a fistfight. Ambassadors Celestia and Zecora were in attendance though. The first fifteen minutes of the party had been taken up with Fancy Pants and the zebra posing for pictures together, along with a short speech for the benefit of the press about how grateful Equestria was for the help of their Zebrican allies in launching the Harmony Project. Once all of the reporters had been—mostly—satisfied, the reception had been able to begin in earnest, kicked off with a flyby and aerobatic show put on by Captain Rainbow Dash and her Wonderbolt Squadron. For Colonel Twilight, this show represented both the first time that she’d seen the prismatic pegasus in the company of her squadron as well as the only time the unicorn had been able to clearly see the captain while she was in the air. Normally, all that Twilight was able to perceive was a rainbow-patterned contrail streaking around the island. To the squadron commander’s credit, she was a talented flier. The rest of her premiere squadron were also obviously quite skilled as well, and the performance that they put on for the chancellor and his delegation was met with resounding applause from all of the attendees. The applause was only just starting to peter out when Rainbow Dash landed and hastily discarded her combat harness at the edge of the garden, all in an effort to bask in the adoration of her performance’s fans up close. The rigid metal rigging, which was intended to provide a pegasus flier with some moderate protection, as well as mounting pylons for dropped explosives, was collected up by the squadron’s flight crewponies for transport back to the island’s aerie. Twilight watched as the cerulean mare picked up a small stack of napkins in her wing and started to mark them with her hoofprint, passing out the impromptu ‘autographs’ to every creature that she passed on her way over to the chancellor. The purple unicorn felt some of the muscles in her face come within a tail hair of straining as she fought to keep her expression pleasantly neutral while watching the winged-embodiment of ego present one of the hoof-marked napkins to Fancy Pants, a self-satisfied grin plastered across her muzzle. “Here you go, Mister Chancellor!” Rainbow said, holding the napkin out to the unicorn stallion. “A personal autograph from the Rainbow Dash! Wouldn’t want you to have come all the way out here just to leave empty-hoofed.” The mare finished with a wink at the taller pony. So help me if this mare is trying to flirt with him too, Twilight thought to herself, struggling to suppress a long-suffering sigh. It was bad enough when it was just the major… Fortunately for the purple mare, Fancy Pants hadn’t won the last election just by having a more popular political platform. He was also exceptionally personable. The ivory stallion graciously accepted the cloth napkin and even went so far as to appear as though he was genuinely admiring it. “Well, I must say that that was some of the best-coordinated flying that I’ve ever seen. What was that last maneuver at the end?” “I call it the Rainbow Blaze!” The pegasus mare proudly announced, her expression the perfect image of a satisfied smirk. She pretended to polish her hoof against her flight suit. “It’s my own personal invention. An awesome flier needs an awesome finale, right?” “Indeed,” Fancy Pants conceded with a slight nod. His telekinesis stashed the napkin inside his jacket. “You know, there’s a squadron that operates out of the capital that does a lot of performances for the public. I think you might have the talent that they’re looking for.” Twilight tried not to keep her eyes from widening too visibly. On the one hoof, she didn’t want to believe that Rainbow’s forthright approach had actually worked. On the other, the little purple unicorn was trying not to look hopeful at the prospect of the undisciplined flier being taken off her hooves without the need to make the transfer request herself. “Only if you’re going to transfer the rest of my flight with me,” the chromatic-maned pegasus replied without even a hint of sarcasm. The response left both Twilight and the chancellor dumbfounded. “I beg your pardon, captain?” “Excuse me?!” Twilight covered her mouth with her hoof and flushed, not having intended to give voice to her own incredulity. If the chancellor had noticed it, he gave no sign. Instead he tried to get further elaboration from the pegasus. “Your whole flight?” “Well…yeah?” Rainbow replied, as though the reasoning behind her request should have been obvious. Either she soon realized that her personal thought process wasn’t obvious, or she just liked hearing herself talk. In either case, the flier deigned to go on. “When I got assigned to Harmony Six, I told all my ponies that I was going to turn them into the most elite squadrons in all of Equestria; and I meant it! Do you know how many months of work I’ve put into those ponies?” Rainbow Dash flicked a wing in the vague direction of the location in the sky where her squadron’s performance had taken place. “It’s not like that routine came together overnight, or that I did it all on my own.” Twilight Sparkle was unable to keep her brows from rising in noticeable surprise upon hearing what passed for an uncharacteristic amount of humility from the pegasus— “I mean, as awesome as I am on my own, I look even more awesome with talented ponies backing me up!” The purple unicorn closed her eyes and suppressed a sigh, mentally chastising herself for getting her hopes up. “Once I’m done whipping the rest of my ponies into the best fliers possible,” the pegasus went on, “then I’ll take a transfer to Canterlot. But, until then: I don’t walk out on my ponies, Mister Chancellor.” Rainbow Dash flashed Fancy Pants a broad grin. “But I’ll let you know when my ponies are finally ready to fly on their own without my awesomeness to guide them so that you can offer me that transfer again.” “Well, since I believe that the good Colonel Sparkle here would be quite put out if I took all of her squadrons away from her on such short notice, I suppose that the ponies of Equestria will just have to wait to behold your ‘awesomeness’, Captain Dash,” Fancy Pants said, sounding sincere enough that Twilight found herself wondering whether or not the career politician really did mean it or not. “Do let me know when you believe your work is done here. If I’m still in office, that is,” the unicorn added with a wry smile of his own. Rainbow Dash positively beamed before saluting with a flick of her wing. “Will do, Chancellor Pants!” It was at this time that Vice Chancellor Neighsay returned to the group, having apparently concluded a conversation with a member of the donkey delegation. Agent Nightshade was trotting at the pale gray unicorn stallion’s side. The lens-covered eyes looked over at the still-preening Rainbow Dash. “Not a bad performance, little filly. I’ll admit that you have some decent skills for somepony flying out here in the middle of nowhere.” His smug was back in full force. “Makes a pony wonder what must have gone wrong to keep you from getting a post in Equestria?” The pegasus mare’s expression instantly soured at the words: ‘little filly’. Violet eyes narrowed at the batpony. Twilight felt a brief burst of camaraderie with the cerulean flier as she too gave the leathery-winged stallion a cool look. Nightshade was quite clearly trying to suggest that a posting to Harmony Fortress was an indication of ill-favour within Equestria’s military. Obviously that was as far from the case as possible. After all, one of the project’s biggest proponents, the chancellor himself, was standing right here! “Agent—” Whatever else Chancellor Fancy Pants might have been about to say to the batpony by way of rebuke was overrun by Rainbow Dash’s own indignant retort. “I’ll have you know I was given my choice of posts, bugeyes!” The mare bristled, puffing her chest out at the taller stallion deriding her. “Flight leaders all over Equestria were begging me to fly with them!” “Captain Dash—” Twilight tried, but with just as much success in reigning things in as the chancellor had had. “Oh, really?” Nightshade didn’t appear to react at all to the mare’s posturing, barely even appearing to look in her direction as he spoke. “Because the stack of demerits thickening your academy file suggest that they were more likely to be begging you to fly away from them.” Rainbow Dash recoiled from the stallion as though she’d been physically slapped. Her eyes widened in brief panic. “You looked at my—?” The mare shook her head and rallied in short order, though she didn’t come off sounding nearly as confident as she had just a few seconds ago. “Everypony has demerits in their training file!” She insisted. Twilight decided that this would be an ill-advised time to hold up her own spotless record as a counter to the assertion and stayed quiet. “But everypony doesn’t set academy speed records,” the squadron commander said with a satisfied huff, finally managing to get her own smug smile in place. “I saw your records,” the batpony almost conceded. “I also saw that they were signed off on by the same stallion every time. Not a bad looking stallion for his age,” Nightshade went on. Rainbow Dash was regarding him with a look of confusion at the apparent nonsequitur. “I saw pictures of his wife too. Recent and older photos. Coloration’s off, but you definitely have her body type.” Twilight saw where the agent was going with his comments now. It looked like Rainbow Dash hadn’t quite made the connection yet though by the time the batpony’s smile broadened into a taunting grin. “What do you really raise faster: your altitude? Or your tail…?” The pegasus’ indignant rage manifested in a fraction of a second. “You fucking bas—!” “That will be quite enough, Agent!” The Equestrian chancellor’s earlier jovial expression was gone now. The unicorn stallion was glaring at the batpony, while Twilight had also subtly interposed herself just in front of her flight commander in order to keep the pegasus from doing anything that might result in paperwork needing to be filed. For his part, Nightshade didn’t look the least bit cowed by his superior’s rebuke. He kept his tinted lenses fixed on the scowling Rainbow Dash as he spoke. “Just conducting a brief staff evaluation, Mister Chancellor,” the batpony said. “This is the mare in charge of a significant portion of Harmony Six’s defenses after all. “If she can’t keep her cool during a simple conversation, then how reliable can she be expected to be during an actual crisis?” ‘Simple conversation’? Colonel Twilight Sparkle was glaring at the batpony stallion. Nightshade had admitted to baiting the pegasus captain, which explained why he’d been saying those things; but the little purple unicorn still didn’t fully understand what the point of it was supposed to be. He was a civilian who worked for an agency unconnected with the Harmony Project—so far as Twilight knew, anyway—to say nothing of the cavalry as a whole. So what interest could he possibly have in ‘evaluating’ her staff? “While Agent Nightshade’s methods might not be as polished as they could be,” Vice Chancellor Neighsay chimed in, drawing the attention of everypony else nearby, “he does make a valid point that we should want only the best and most suitable ponies managing an installation as important to Equestrian interests as this fortress.” “Oh, I’m the ‘best’ all right!” Rainbow Dash insisted through what wasn’t quite a snarl that was directed at the offending batpony standing in front of her. “And if Agent Nightsoil here doesn’t think that I earned my records, then I have no problem giving him a demonstration right here and now!” “Captain Dash—” Twilight tried, only to have the batpony interrupt her again. “What are you proposing, little filly?” “A race. Three laps around the fortress, following the shoal buoys,” Rainbow Dash declared. Twilight noted the slight broadening of the batpony stallion’s smile before he nodded. “Alright then. I don’t mind seeing if you have the wings to back up that mouth of yours, captain,” Nightshade said, flexing his leathery wings in anticipation of the imminent flight. He cast a quick look at the vice chancellor, seeking tacit permission. The gaunt gray unicorn nodded. Beside them both, Chancellor Fancy Pants sighed but made no effort to stop either pony. The expression on his face suggested that a conversation away from prying eyes was going to be had later on the matter. If neither of Equestria’s leaders were going to object to the race, then Twilight was hardly going to take action either. Honestly, there was a part of her that very much looked forward to seeing the batpony humbled a little after the remarks that he’d made regarding both the pegasus and herself, even if some of them had been made more obliquely than others. Harmony Six might be as far away from Equestria proper as one could get, and it was certainly a less traditionally prestigious posting than, say, Canterlot or Manehattan, but that didn’t make this assignment unimportant. So the purple unicorn took a step back, getting out from between the pegasus and batpony. The pair maneuvered into position, side-by-side, in order to begin their declared race. Rainbow Dash’s narrowed gaze never broke away from Nightshade’s tinted lenses. While it was impossible to see the batpony’s eyes though the smoky glass, his smug smile never wavered as he crouched down beside the cerulean mare and flared his wings in preparation for the race. “Colonel?” The leathery-winged pony prompted, still not looking away from Rainbow Dash. “If you’d do the honors?” Twilight’s lips pulled into a slight frown, but she accepted the impromptu designation as the officiator of the race and took up a position that let her observe that both racers were in line with each other. “Racers: on your marks!” Both fliers tensed. Wings flared. “Get set!” The two ponies coiled their legs in preparation to push off into the sky. “Go!” Twilight Sparkle and the pair of Equestrian leaders all winced away from the sudden intense backblast of air as two sets of powerful wings beat down and propelled the winged ponies into the sky. The little purple unicorn lit her horn to magically clear away the worst of the dust and looked on after the fliers. Much to her own chagrin, she noted that Nightshade was actually managing to keep up with the pegasus mare. For now anyway. She didn’t expect that fact to endure for long though. “Do Ah even want t’know?” Captain Applejack’s bored drawl drew the colonel’s attention and she turned to see her head of security approaching, having apparently completed her check of the garden’s perimeter. “Just some friendly inter-agency competition, captain,” Vice Chancellor Neighsay answered for Twilight. “Nothing to be concerned about.” The fortress’ commander resisted the urge to correct her superior’s ‘mischaracterization’ of earlier events. She’d have more than enough time to fill Applejack in on the specifics of Nightshade and Rainbow Dash’s interaction later. “Yeah, about that: Ah’ve been wantin’ to ask y’all about this new Equestrian Bureau of Peace and Serenity,” the orange earth pony mare began. “Why exactly is it that they’re suddenly in charge of security fer y’all? Ah thought that was a cavalry duty?” Twilight suppressed a wince at the prospect of another of her subordinates bluntly confronting the chancellor and vice chancellor. In the unicorn’s opinion, there was a time, place, and manner for inquiring about political decisions. This reception wasn’t it. On the other hoof, the colonel couldn’t deny that she was also quite curious to hear the answer. If the captain’s question was impertinent, neither politician gave any indication. If anything, Neighsay seemed almost eager to answer it. “While security for Equestria’s leadership has, traditionally, been the responsibility of the military,” the vice chancellor conceded with a nod, “it’s the opinion of the chancellor and I that our recent war with the zebras has shifted public perception of the cavalry. “Curfews, rationing, conscription,” the gray-coated unicorn listed off, “while the martial law measures Equestria undertook during the war were certainly necessary for the continued survival of ponykind, one cannot deny that it colored the perception of a soldier’s role among the common pony. You were our valiant defenders, of course,” Neighsay said, giving Twilight and Applejack an almost reverent bow as he made the acknowledgement, “but ponies wearing your uniforms were also the ones who took food from the mouths of civilians, or carried away loved ones to fight on the front lines. “Nopony is out to cast our courageous ponies in uniform as any sort of villain; but there’s no denying that the less-flattering realities and perceptions linger.” Neighsay’s gaze lingered on Applejack’s modified uniform and he gave the earth pony mare a knowing nod. “I believe that you’ve recognized this as well: ponies don’t like seeing soldiers looming over them as they go about their lives. It reminds them too much of what things were like while the war was going on. “So, the chancellor and I decided that it was perhaps best if we created an agency with the chartered goal of helping Equestria’s ponies to feel safer and more at peace. Hence the EBPS. And, as a first step in calming ponies’ minds, we’ve delegated the chancellor’s and my safety to them; so that we can walk around among our ponies without them having to see soldiers hovering around them.” The vice chancellor nodded upwards in the direction of the duo of batponies that were presently lazily circling overhead. Twilight and Applejack exchanged looks. Nothing that the unicorn stallion had said was too different from the orange mare’s own expressed rationale for having the ponies under her command adopt uniforms that were more reminiscent of civilian law enforcement. Of course, her change had just been to the uniform. Those ponies were still very much soldiers. Neighsay had taken things a step further. Though that didn’t mean that it was a bad thing. Applejack then glanced up at the fliers overhead. “Are they all batponies?” “Yes,” Neighsay confirmed with another nod. “The EBPS will be staffed exclusively by batponies.” This got the full attention of both Harmony officers. Neither pair even noticed Rainbow Dash and Nightsahde zooming by beyond the garden bastion, marking the completion of the first lap of their race. Restricting participation in an agency to a single kind of pony was done only in very specific cases. For example: the Weather Bureau was staffed by pegasi. Of course, this was because of the fact that only pegasi could effectively manipulate and control the weather. It simply wasn’t something that an earth pony or unicorn could do, and so employing them wasn’t practical. However, Twilight was having a hard time believing that helping ponies feel safe was something that only batponies had the skills to accomplish. “Is there any particular reason for that, vice chancellor?” The purple mare ventured cautiously. She wasn’t in the habit of questioning the decisions of her superiors after all. “Because while acting as our security will be one of their more public responsibilities, it won’t be the agency’s primary duty,” the unicorn stallion explained without any hint of reservation. “Their mandate will be to evaluate ponies in positions of trust and leadership in order to make certain that they are serving the best interests of the Equestrian ponies, and not themselves. They will also be tasked with seeking out ponies in distress so that they can be given the counseling and care that they need. “The war left some lasting scars on the psyches of Equestrians. I’m sure you’re aware of some examples, colonel.” Neighsay said with a nod in the purple mare’s direction. Twilight gave a slight nod of her own head but very carefully didn’t say anything aloud. She most certainly didn’t think about White Tail. There had been a smell that lingered in the air for the next few days. Twilight had trouble walking near residences inhabited by dragons to this day— Twilight sharply inhaled to bring herself back to the present, grateful to have apparently not missed anything that the vice chancellor had been saying. “Batpony magic is uniquely qualified to identify both ponies who don’t have Equestria’s best interests at heart as well as those who aren’t serving their own personal best interests.” Applejack’s expression hardened. When she spoke, it was with a tenseness that Twilight recognized. The mare sounded much like she had when Twilight had asked her for that ‘revised’ report. The earth pony wasn’t happy, to say the least. Twilight was grateful that she at least did a better job of veiling her displeasure than Rainbow Dash had. “Y’all’re takin’ about Enthrallin’, aren’t’cha?” Fancy Pants cleared his throat, entering the conversation once more. His slightly uneasy expression indicated that he had the grace to acknowledge why Applejack might have objections to Neighsay’s proposal. “It goes without saying that the EBPS will be abiding by strict regulatory guidelines when it comes to when—and especially upon whom—they can exert their influence,” the white unicorn stallion assured the mares. “Obviously,” Neighsay agreed without hesitation. “Our goal isn’t to intrude upon the personal lives of our ponies. But I’m sure that both of you agree that it is essential that Equestria be safeguarded against any threats; even those from within. “Especially in such perilous times.” This time Twilight did note Rainbow Dash and Nightshade flying past. The pegasus mare had achieved a respectable lead over the stallion. If the present topic of conversation weren’t so concerning, the unicorn mare might have smiled. Twilight raised a curious brow as she looked back at Neighsay. “‘Perilous times’, Mister Vice Chancellor?” “Oh course, colonel! How else would you describe the current rising tensions between the griffons and the dragons?” The unicorn asked, his tone suggesting a rhetorical nature to the question. For her part, the purple unicorn cringed, acknowledging that relations between the two were fairly steadily deteriorating. The last intelligence reports that the mare had seen suggested that the dragons had wasted no time in further fortifying Rock Haven Island. There was now a fairly massive military presence on the island. Ambassador Gilda claimed that the dragons intended to use the island as a forward base of operations in order to launch additional military actions against the griffons. Meanwhile, Ambassador Ember insisted that they were merely ensuring that the dragons would be able to continue their anti-piracy efforts in the region. In case there were any other bands of ‘raiders’ present on other islands in the archipelago. “Ponies are nervous,” Neighsay continued. “It’s understandable, given the prospect of a possible war between two races. One of whom might even call upon our aid!” Twilight’s lips pursed now. She glanced between the two stallions, her expression a mixture of confusion and concern. “I wasn’t aware that we had a mutual defense pact with either the Griffonian Republic or the Dragon Lands…?” “We don’t,” Fancy Pants assured the mare. “But it’s common knowledge that the griffons aided Equestria during our war with the zebras,” Neighsay pointed out. “Founded or not, it is understandable that ponies might jump to the conclusion that Equestria will get involved in a possible war between the griffons and dragons. That has some ponies on edge. Our intention is to use the EBPS to seek out any misinformed ponies spreading dangerous rumors like that and…correct their unfounded assumptions.” The gray unicorn smiled warmly and looked between both mares. “We can’t have ponies spreading lies now, can we? Even if those ponies don’t mean to be malicious about it.” Applejack’s lips were still pulled in a tight line. “...Ah s’ppose not,” she agreed. “Ah’m jus’ not so sure about letting batponies Enthrall ponies to go about it,” the earth pony reiterated. “Ah thought there were laws about compellin’ testimony and such?” Neighsay’s smile didn’t falter as he dismissed the captain’s concerns with an idle wave of his hoof. “I assure you, captain, it isn’t the chancellor’s or my goal to imprison ponies for merely jumping to mistaken conclusions!” The stallion even permitted himself an amused chuckle at the absurdity of the notion. “We simply believe it’s in the best interests of all Equestrians for any troubling lies to be tracked back to their source as quickly as possible so that the ponies spreading them to be educated on the facts. “Surely you don’t see anything objectionable about that?” “...The idea certainly sounds noble,” Applejack carefully conceded. Fancy Pants cleared his throat once more. “I understand that there might be misgivings—I even share them, I assure you—which is why I promise that the protocols for the EBPS will be crafted carefully. The agency won’t receive its mandate to start those kinds of operations until my full cabinet and I are satisfied that we’ve managed to properly balance the security of Equestria against the rights of our ponies.” He shared a meaningful look with his vice chancellor, getting a nod from the other unicorn stallion. “I’m certainly grateful to hear that, Mister Chancellor,” Twilight said. Her ear flicked as she picked up the sound of furiously flapping wings. She and the other ponies nearby turned in time to see Rainbow Dash and Nightshade turning into their final approach, diving towards the spot on the ground that they’d taken off from earlier. The purple unicorn allowed herself a smile upon seeing that the pegasus had achieved a commanding lead over the EBPS agent. There would be no doubt about who’d won the race between them. “Well done, Captain Dash,” she declared, permitting herself to execute a short congratulatory stomping of applause as the cerulean mare alighted gracefully in front of them. Her lips spread into a lightly smug expression of her own as she watched the trailing batpony stallion flying in after her. “It looks like you barely even worked up a sweat.” This much was undeniably an exaggeration, as Rainbow Dash was visibly breathing hard, and her coat visible above the collar of her flight suit was noticeably matted with perspiration. However, Twilight decided to permit herself the fib if it might mean annoying the batpony a little more. Much to the unicorn mare’s slight annoyance, Agent Nightshade didn’t look all that disappointed that he’d lost the race, and not by a little either. The leather-winged stallion slipped into a gentle glide the rest of the way to the ground. Once he’d finally landed, he used a wingtip to nudge one of his tinted lenses back into place from where it had shifted slightly during flight. His expression seemed fairly passive, and his lips maintained their cocky tilt. “Not bad, filly. I guess you can manage to fly in circles at least.” Rainbow Dash glared at the stallion and let out an annoyed snort in his direction before accepting the praise from her commander. “There wasn’t even a question that I’d win, ma’am,” the mare said, giving Twilight a brief salute with her wing. “A truly impressive performance, Captain Dash,” Fancy Pants commended, favoring the pegasus mare with a warm smile. “Are you certain that I can’t entice you back to the capital?” The expression on his face made it clear that the chancellor was being playful, but there was a slight note of genuine hope in his words. “Sorry, Mister Chancellor; not while Harmony Fortress still needs me,” Rainbow returned with a smile and a shake of her head. “Ah well, I suppose that even a chancellor must learn to live with life’s little disappointments. Speaking of which: I’m afraid that I don’t have much more time to spend in the company of you lovely mares any longer,” the ivory unicorn stallion lamented with a warm smile cast at each of the three officers. “At least not in this moment. Now that the media has had their fill, Ambassador Zecora and I can finally have a meaningful conversation. Hopefully we can finish our talks in time for me to grab some of that absolutely delicious-smelling pecan pie I saw on the desert table earlier! “Until later, colonel, captains.” Fancy Pants bowed his head slightly in the direction of all three officers before turning, along with Vice Chancellor Neighsay, and heading off in the direction of the zebra representative and her staff. Agent Nightshade followed in their wake. “It was nice finally seeing you, Captain Dash. You didn’t disappoint.” Twilight frowned before looking over at the pegasus beside her. “He sure changed his tune, didn’t he?” “I don’t know what any of that was about!” Rainbow Dash huffed, unabashedly annoyed. “He questions my records, hints that I slept my way to the top, puts up a truly pitiful effort in our race, and now he’s acting like nothing even happened? What’s his deal?” The pegasus mare let out a frustrated grunt, her wing coming up to massage her temple. “It’s enough to make my head hurt. I’m going to go get some water. “Catch you two later.” Twilight and Applejack offered nods as the winged mare departed for the refreshment stand. Then it was Applejack’s turn to sigh and shake her head. “Still not sure Ah like all this EBSP stuff,” she confided. “Givin’ batponies not jus’ permission to Enthrall ponies, but makin’ it an official duty? There’s a reason they gotta wear them glasses, you know? “Ah don’t like it,” the orange earth pony echoed. “Not one bit.” “I know. I’m not sure that I’m entirely comfortable with all of it either,” Twilight agreed. “But I trust the chancellor. He’s a good pony. I’m certain he’ll make sure that the agency’s regulations only let the batponies use their magic responsibly.” “Don’t know that there’s any ‘responsible’ way to use mind control,” Applejack scoffed. “It’s not ‘mind control’,” Twilight countered, mostly as a matter of clarifying the correct terminology. There were spells and enchantments that existed which truly overrode a creature’s thoughts and effected bona fide control over their actions. Batpony magic didn’t work like that. They couldn’t control what a creature did—so far as Twilight understood the research—they could merely influence their actions. And only for as long as they maintained direct eye contact. In Twilight’s opinion, a lot of the public’s understanding of what batponies could do was greatly misinformed thanks to old bigotries. Those stigmas hadn’t faded with time though, and so the exaggerations of what they could do persisted. Along with the laws which required batponies to wear tinted lenses any time they were around other ponies in order to ensure that nopony was unintentionally Enthralled by them. “They can make you do and say things that you weren’t thinkin’ about sayin’ or doin’,” Applejack countered. “If that ain’t ‘mind control’, then it’s close enough fer me as to make no difference.” The purple unicorn sighed and briefly weighed the merits of getting into a prolonged academic argument with her head of security over the semantics of what qualified as genuine domination magic, and what was effectively an innate form of temporary hypnosis. Not unlike what stage performers engaged in with their audience. In the end, Twilight decided that she didn’t have the energy for any particularly lengthy discussions this evening. “I’m going to start making my own social rounds,” the unicorn announced. “I’ll see you later, captain.” “Take care, ma’am.” Author's Note Who watches the Watchers...? As always, a thumbs up and comment are greatly appreciated If you like the cover art and want to see more stories get them, I've set up a Cover Art Fund if you're interested and have any bits lying around!
