Most of the ponies of Equestria had little experience in living in an armed camp. Even those elements of the Guard that did have experience would have been a little confused at the controlled chaos of this particular camp. Even worse was the sheer strangeness of the whole affair. The pathways leading into the camp - a pair of rough trails leading up to the plateau upon which the camp had been built - were guarded by steely eyed deerfolk in coppery looking armor with wicked, steel-spike tipped horns. Any creature who wished to pass into the camp had to go past the half dozen of these intimidating creatures, each of whom seemed possessed of an almost unnatural calm.

Once within the camp, however, things would have become even more confusing for regimented soldiers. There was little organization to the camp itself, but things sorted themselves out after a fashion. Around a trio of bright campfires, luncheon was being prepared. Although much heavier in nuts and root vegetables than most of the creatures in the camp were used to, no one really complained about the food. Zecora and Berry Punch had joined forces and turned even the humble fare into good chow by virtue of diligent seasoning and the powers of booze.

The sleeping area was a mishmash of tents from all over the world - Saddle Arabian peaked tents, Equestrian camp tents, Griffon tree-tents, and much more. The tents usually reflected their occupants - the survivors of a group of griffon merchants who had been ambushed by the Shadow on their way to Ponyville, a Saddle Arabian couple who had been visiting Equestria on holiday and saved from a dark fate by the pegasi. Parked amongst the tents was a familiar looking wagon, currently surrounded by fillies and colts of every age as a powder blue unicorn performed card tricks for their delight.

In the one clear spot near the ridge, dozens of ponies practiced - inexpertly, but enthusiastically - with spears, swords, and other sundry weapons. Pegasi were practicing with crossbows against stuffy doll targets while a mass of earth ponies drilled themselves in formation with makeshift spears and shields. Amongst the noise and tromping, a small group of unicorns were practicing volleys of magical blasts and shielding in attempted syncronicity.. Nearby, Vinyl Scratch sat with three other unicorns and a pile of precise looking tools as they worked on a massive pile of Magilectronic sound equipment, a look of stern resolve on the face of the once joyful DJ.

At the center of the camp was a massive tent - easily larger than any of the others there. Within it, a large, battered wooden table had been constructed out of the cart that Vinyl Scratch and others had ridden out of Ponyville. A large map of the area surrounding Ponyville and Canterlot was nailed firmly to this table - and covered with little flags and markers - and around this table a half dozen figures stood quietly speaking… except for one.

Scootaloo folded her hooves and stared at the map broodingly, wishing it was within her power to make all the little black flags around Ponyville vanish so she could lead a raid on Sweet Apple Acres. The past two weeks had been fantastic for the attitude of the other ponies in the camp - dozens of Ponyville residents thought lost in the attack had been found in one place or another, hiding in caves and ravines. Each rescue brought renewed energy into the camp, and renewed confidence in themselves.

But confidence was no substitute for numbers and skill, and even Scootaloo was smart enough to know that much. Luckily for her, the ponies she’d surrounded herself with were just as smart. Thunderlane was the face of the pegasi, and Cheerilee had become the nominal leader of the earth ponies. Technically, Trixie was leading the few unicorns they had in the camp, but she hated meetings and preferred to deal with Scootaloo directly. Not that Scootaloo much liked her, but she was still a pretty good illusionist, and that meant one more layer of protection for their little camp.

Fortunately, the griffon merchants they’d rescued had counted a former member of their armed forces amongst them. Skandranon Talonreach, supposedly named for some ancient griffon hero, was a veteran of a dozen different griffon wars and knew more about combat than every single pony in the camp combined. He’d been with the merchants as a sort of guard for hire, and had been the reason they’d managed to hold off the Shadow cultists long enough for Thunderlane and his wrecking crew to rescue them. Now he was providing vital knowledge and training that would undoubtedly save even more lives.

The last two creatures present were Zecora, who was in charge of the magical and mystical, and basically was their only source of real knowledge on how to combat the Shadow creatures; and Cadeyrn who led the small contingent of deerfolk that had joined them a few days ago. Sent - supposedly - by their mysterious white coated benefactor. Scootaloo was still uncertain what to think of the weapon the strange doe had given her, and was even more uncertain as to what the doe’s intentions for Scootaloo and her personal mission were. But so far, all of the aid she had given them had been invaluable. Especially the guards, who had some weird way of smelling out shadow infection.

Still, they were all waiting on her - on her decision. The decision of a barely 13 year old pegasus filly who still couldn’t fly. It sounded absolutely bonkers, until Scootaloo remembered that absolutely everything in the world had gone bonkers. The world - once ordered, neat, tidy, and understandable - had been utterly upended. Her friends - and at the very thought of them, she felt a wince of nearly physical pain - corrupted and mind controlled into little puppets. Ponyville under the control of some dark evil goddess - like Nightmare Moon, except worse. And now, a room full of adult ponies and other creatures were waiting on her word. “Any other info I ought to know?” she asked quietly, looking up at the others around the table.

Skandranon - the Griffon - tapped the place they had been discussing on the map with authority, his talon giving a little rap on the wooden table as he spoke, “Th’ Gorge is key. If the trains’ve stopped running, it’s the only reasonable land route connectin’ Ponyville and most of southern Equestria.” He gestured over the gorge, which - between the incredibly rough hills and desert south of the Everfree and the mountainous Rambling Rock Ridge - really was the only land route you could get any meaningful number of ponies through.

“I agree,” noted the deerfolk captain, his eyes narrowing. “That gives Umbra few choices for her direct expansion. Canterlot can still dominate the territory immediately around it by virtue of the Royal Guard.” He gestured in a circle around the Tall Mountain and the city upon it. “And Umbra will not step hoof in these woods - she is not that foolish. That leaves the Unicorn Range, and the Diamond Dog mines.” He paused and frowned for a moment. “However, I will concede that she could be willing to sustain losses enough to take Dodge City, but I doubt it. There are not enough resources there to tempt her, and the Buffalo folk are an unknown quantity to her. She would be far more interested in Appleoosa, given the train routes it maintains to Saddle Arabia and the Zebrican Islands.”

Cheerilee and Thunderlane remained silent, and Zecora was giving Scootaloo the kind of look that said she didn’t want to weigh in on this one. Scootaloo sighed gustily and planted her hooves on the table. The logistics of being a leader were seriously lame, but nopony else seemed willing to take up the job after her big speech a few weeks ago. “Okay. General Skandranon, you’ve got my vote. We’ve got to do everything we can to divide their strength.” She hauled herself up onto the table and trotted boldly across the map, eyeballing the cluster of golden flags in Canterlot.

“Prince Armor said they could tie up a lot of what they’ve got trying to sneak past and through Canterlot, and our base here can raid either the Range or the Gorge at need,” Scootaloo said quietly, drawing heavily from the tutoring that Cheerilee had been giving her in speaking to the various leaders of their little band. That, and the wargames the deerfolk captain had been playing with her had done a lot to mature her outlook on the world. Amazing what two weeks can do to a pony’s life.. she thought with a shake of her head.

“So yeah, given how outnumbered we are and how long this is gonna drag on, we’re gonna need supplies,” Scootaloo concluded, to the approving nods of most of her council - except for Cheerilee, who hated talking about fighting as much as she hated talking about what happened in Ponyville. “And if we want supplies, we’re gonna need to take control of the Gorge. I’ll bet anything the Apple Family in the south isn’t gonna like what’s happened to their cousins up north.” The last words were spoken with a small amount of gleeful rage. The Shadow was going to find out that you did not mess with the Apple Family.

The Crusader’s Council cleared out a few minutes later, each of them needing nothing more than her nod of approval to go do the things they ought to have been doing anyway. As usual, Cheerilee and Zecora remained behind, each of them giving the other a look of deep concern. Scootaloo sat her plot down right next to the singular red flag that marked their place in the White Tail Wood, and bowed her head. “What the buck am I doing?” she whispered into the silence, apparently startling Cheerilee and Zecora out of whatever weird adult thing they were doing.

“You’re providing us with something we need, Scootaloo,” Cheerile said softly, trotting around the table to get as close to the filly as she could, her voice full of concern. “Nopony here really knows what to do right now. Just having somepony around willing to take charge is a huge help.” Scootaloo couldn’t help but snort derisively at that one, even if she privately agreed with it. Sometimes she wondered how the buck everyone managed to keep things working when there wasn’t a huge crisis.

“Cheerilee is right, little one.” Zecora chimed in a moment later, her thick and beautiful accent sounding odd when she wasn’t trying to rhyme with everything. “That you are willing to fight and not flee puts a stoutness in their hearts.” Zecora’s eye gleamed with something… odd. Something like pride. “They see one of our littlest boldly striding where they would dare not. How could they do otherwise but follow you?”

Scootaloo shook her head in astonishment at that particular idea, but it did make a little bit of sense. Nopony liked to think they were considered less brave than a little filly. Even if that little filly was the daredevil Scootaloo. “Ah, buck it,” Scootaloo swore casually, glad for the fact that neither Cheerilee or Zecora ever gave her crap about it. She swung herself down off the table and took a look at the two mares who had, by default, become sort of like her parents or guardians or something. “Thanks, girls,” she said quietly, wishing - not for the first time - that Sweetie Belle or Applebloom could be there. How much would they have laughed at the idea of ‘General Scootaloo’.

Cheerilee gave her a brief hug before heading out of the tent, with Zecora waiting at the flap for Scootaloo. It took her a few moments to get everything together - her cloak, which she never went anywhere without now; her shield, a gift from Shining Armor; and the strange little sword given to her by the strange doe. Zecora had said it was enchanted with ‘very ancient’ magic, but she couldn’t tell Scootaloo what the magic had been for. Still, the thing gave her an odd feeling of safety - and she was slowly learning how to use it too. The last thing was the heavy vest of hard scales that served as armor. It was a little cumbersome given the rest of the stuff Scoots was hauling, but it was one more layer of protection between her and…

She shook her head to clear it, and turned to Zecora. “Let’s go grab some lunch and then we’ll check in with Trixie. Last thing we need is her getting her hat in a twist.” Zecora nodded her agreement to that, and the pair of them headed out into the camp. All around them, ponies and a few other odd creatures went about their daily lives… such as they still were. Craftsponies were still crafting as best they could - with the three blacksmiths that had escaped town doing the most business. Berry Punch had set up an ad-hoc bar where moonshine was the order of the day, and ponies picked up lunch from the cooking fires near the center of camp.

Everypony nodded, smiled, or saluted Scootaloo as she passed by. The first time that had happened, she’d been completely unsure of what to do about it. Now - thanks, once again, to the military knowledge of her new griffon ally - she nodded or gave a sketchy salute in return as she walked. Workers redoubled their efforts as she passed by, and one of the blacksmiths had her pause to examine a set of steel spearheads. Scootaloo didn’t know the first bloody thing about weapons, but she gave them a look-see, and they looked to be of high quality and well wrought metal. She nodded her approval at the blacksmith and kept walking, missing the beaming smile on his face as he went back to his duties.

Scootaloo found it hard to believe that ponies could be kept happy with such simple stuff, but it seemed to be working out just fine. “Crusader Scootaloo!” called out an unfamiliar voice - one of the deerfolk guards, in that strange metal scale armor they wore. They all seemed to think ‘Crusader’ was some kind of title, and much to Scootaloo’s dismay, the use of it was spreading throughout the camp. “Prince Armor has arrived with a cart of supplies, and wishes to speak with you immediately.”

The mention of Prince Shining Armor sent a thrill of happiness through Scootaloo’s heart. “Take me to him immediately!” she practically yelled, and the deerfolk guard leaped off through the camp with Scootaloo running after him in hot pursuit. Zecora was right behind her, as faithful as any friend Scootaloo had ever had in her life. She was thankful - truly, she was - that Zecora was there to help her find an anchor in this storm.

Another such anchor was Prince Armor, resplendent in his shining golden armor of the Royal Guard. Two heavy wagons, full of what looked distinctly like military supplies, were being picked over by Cherry Berry and Berry Punch, each of them exclaiming over the treasure trove they were finding on it. Shining Armor saluted Scootaloo with a slightly grim smile, and Scootaloo returned it with much more enthusiasm. “Good to see you still in one piece, kiddo,” Shining said with a remarkable casual tone of voice. “I brought you some goodies, and more importantly - news.”

Scootaloo eyed the wagons and then half smiled at Shining. “Looks like more than a few goodies to me, Shiny. I’d almost think you were trying to butter me up to make whatever you’ve got to tell me sound better.” The words came out much more bitterly than Scootaloo had intended, and Shining winced a little in response to it. Of course, the news over the past two weeks had always been bad - and Scootaloo was simply prepared for it at this point.

Shining shook his head once, before nodding. “This’ll probably be my last visit here until this is all over,” Shining said with no small amount of sadness. “EIS just brought us intel that Twilight and her little force have arrived at Talonreach. Whatever she’s got planned for the griffon kingdoms, there’s nothing we can do to stop it now.” He sighed deeply. “We’ve been trying to convince the Solar Parliament to give you guys some real aid here, but they’re still arguing over exactly what’s happened. I’ve brought you what I could… mostly guard supplies. Weapons, armor, field rations. I wish I could’ve-”

Scootaloo pressed her hoof to Shining’s face and sighed. “It’s more than we expected, Shiny. We’re grateful for the help.” She gave him a gentle smile and he returned it hesitantly. Scootaloo put her hoof back down to the ground and nodded. “You go fort up in Canterlot. We’ll do what we can out here to keep them off balance. Dig in, and wait for Celestia to come back.” That had been the real shocker to Scootaloo - that Princess Celestia had run off to some foreign kingdom just in time for everything to go wrong. Still, Shining had said it was important, so she supposed she couldn’t be too pissed off.

Shining nodded at that one, and looked away. “We’ll do what we can for you out here. I’ve managed to convince some friends in Cloudsdale to make sure the weather stays as mild as it can for you and to do a couple of covert supply drops.” Scootaloo stared at him as he trailed off into mutters and looked rather ashamed. To be honest, she was absolutely ecstatic she was going to get any aid at all - let alone what Shining was describing here.

Maybe it was just that he still felt responsible for what had happened with Twilight. Or maybe he was angry because they weren’t able to give them disaster aid. Or maybe this was just the way Shining Armor really was. Scootaloo shook her head and grinned enthusiastically. “That will all be really great, Shiny. On behalf of everypony here, thank you.” Then - on impulse - she reached up and gave him the best hug she could. “Now go. You’ve got work to do, and so do we,” she whispered to him, and he nodded solemnly at her, saluting the Deerfolk guard before galloping back down the trail.

Scootaloo eyeballed the wagons and their contents for a moment and felt a smile tug at her face. It wasn’t much… but it was a good start.

Later, as the supplies and weapons were being distributed throughout the little camp, Scootaloo leaned against a log to stare into the campfire and run her hooves around the outer edges of her shield. Remember Mr. Cake... her mind began, like a mantra she practiced every night. Remember Octavia and Mayor Mare... it continued, even as she felt her eyes half shut and tears threaten to overwhelm her. “Sweetie Belle,” she whispered softly, with all the intonation of a prayer. “Applebloom.” The word broke midway through her saying it, and she bit at her lip hard to fight back the tears.

Then soft hooves touched her shoulders - unfamiliar, small hooves - and Scootaloo nearly leapt out of her fur, scrambling around and drawing her blade halfway before she realized who was behind her. The sparkling jewel rimmed glasses shone in the firelight, and a look of gentle sadness crossed the face of the filly in front of her. “I’m sorry, but… you looked like you could use somepony to talk to,” said Silver Spoon in the gentlest of tones. That tone of voice, that look on her face… it had no business being in the same city as the Silver Spoon that Scootaloo had known.

But something had happened to her - between when Scootaloo had run from the city and the fall of Ponyville. Something had happened to Diamond Tiara, and it had deeply affected Silver Spoon in return. Scootaloo jammed the sword back into its sheath before sighing and flopping back down to the log. “Maybe,” was all she would say, and all she could admit in front of her once arch nemesis.

Silver Spoon slipped around the log and sat close to Scootaloo, a small hoof extended in peace offering. Scootaloo eyed it the same way she might have once eyeballed a rattlesnake… but Silver Spoon was right. She needed somepony to talk to. So she took the hoof and squeezed at it, and was surprised at the strength of the squeeze she got in return. “Tiara was in Twilight Town when everything went bad, after Mister Rich was killed,” Spoon said softly, and Scootaloo felt a stab of pain through her heart.

So. She hadn’t been alone in her tragedy - undoubtedly, Diamond Tiara had long since been horribly corrupted. There was no telling to what use the foul powers that had destroyed Scootaloo’s little world would put her to, but she could think of a few of them and not even Diamond Tiara deserved that sort of fate. “I’m sorry,” Scootaloo choked out, not wishing to be reminded of what had happened to her friends, especially not right now.

“No, Scootaloo… I’m sorry,” Silver Spoon began in an almost broken tone, gaining a shocked look from Scootaloo in the process. “We were so horrible to you and your friends, and now… now we’ve both lost everything we loved. I thought…” Silver Spoon sniffed softly, and Scootaloo could see the silvery tears flowing down her cheeks. “I thought… maybe we could start over? Maybe… stick together, you know?” Silver Spoon finished hopelessly, obviously trying to suppress her own sobs.

No pony deserved to have happen to them what had happened to Silver Spoon and her, and Scootaloo knew it. Sure, a lot of the other kids in the camp had lost parents or loved ones but… they had each other, at least. Silver Spoon and Scootaloo? All of their friends were… back there. Scootaloo felt a trickle of a tear streak down her face, and found her voice to be hoarse as she spoke. “Yeah I’d… I’d like that.” It would hurt in some ways, to mourn for Diamond Tiara. She had been worse than the worst swear word Scootaloo knew. But she didn’t deserve that face. So. Remember Diamond Tiara. Remember that you’re fighting for all the ponies that’ve been lost.

Silver Spoon’s face blossomed into a smile completely at odds with the tears in her eyes - and she wrapped herself tightly in a heated hug around Scootaloo’s neck. “Thank you… Oh, goddess Faust, thank you…” She whispered over and over to Scootaloo, who tugged the edge of her cloak and wrapped it around Silver Spoon’s shoulder so she could hug a little closer… and if Scootaloo was being honest with herself, because she needed the physical reassurance just as much as Silver seemed to.

They sat there together as the sun began to dip below the horizon, just as it always did. It was a subtle but important reminder that - somewhere out there - Celestia was still alive. Still working with all of her might to find the solution that would save them all. As the bright white moon slipped into the skies above, Scootaloo began to realize that Silver Spoon had tucked her body around Scootaloo’s and her breathing had become slow and regular. Scootaloo tugged her cloak around to serve as a blanket for them both and nestled her own head in the crook of Silvers shoulder. Just like she’d used to do when she’d bunked down with Applebloom or Sweetie Belle, except… warmer, somehow. Nicer in some ineffable way that she hadn’t the words for.

Scootaloo closed her eyes and took in deep breaths, slowly and steadily. Maybe that was what she had been missing in all of this. That maybe, just maybe, this crusade was about more than just Applebloom or Sweetie Belle. Maybe this was about everypony - about all the loved ones the damned Shadow had taken. About all the things that had been lost because of the invasion of this demon thing into their lives.

As Scootaloo felt gentle sleep take her, she felt her resolve harden just a little more. Maybe it was time she started taking this more seriously. Maybe it was time she started thinking like a leader, and not just acting like one.

Maybe it was time for Crusading to become her very special talent.