“What kind of ship are you looking for?” asked the salespony. “Mister, uh...”

“Firebrand. I’ll know what it is when I see it.”

The customer was a pegasus with a flaming orange mane, walking down an airstrip next to the salespony.

“How about you give me a shot at price range and I’ll see what’s there?” the salespony suggested.

“That’s not important to me,” said Firebrand.

They were surrounded by all manner of airships, ranging from zeppelins to air-yachts to small floating fortresses.

“I want a good ship that’ll take me places.”

“Oh, we got no shortage of those,” said the salespony.

Firebrand looked around at the selection, before his eyes fell on something: a small zeppelin, pure white. “What about that one?”

“That blimp?” said the salespony.

“Yes,” said Firebrand. “I want that one.” He smiled. “That’s my ship. My beautiful white rose.”

Lollygag was bored, as usual. His parents had left him home alone with a list of chores: water the plants, put away the dishes, feed the fish, blah blah blah blah blah. He slumped on the couch, preferring, as so many foals do, to do absolutely nothing rather than something productive.

To make matters even more boring, his parents had left the radio on, tuned to the classical music station. Lollygag couldn’t reach it and so he couldn’t change the station or turn it off, so he had to endure an unending torrent of mind-numbingly boring violins.

He groaned, wishing there was something more interesting. Then a miracle happened – the music from the radio turned to static. The colt looked up, wondering what had happened. Then, after a few seconds, the static began fading in and out, but the sound replacing it wasn’t the boring classical music, but it seemed to be a strange voice.

The static at last subsided, and a voice spoke: “Ah, I see our technical difficulties are over. Apologies to Classically Equestrian, but I think our message is important enough to interrupt you for just a few words.”

Lollygag’s ears pricked up. This had never happened before. It was a gorgeous voice, deep, clear, and warm, like a big soft blanket that enveloped his ears.

“Good day to you, fair ponies. This is Vox of the White Rose. Tonight we stand on the eve of an anniversary: the anniversary of the end of humanity.”

Lollygag tilted his head. He had no idea what any of that meant.

“You may not be aware of this. After all, humanity’s end was not a sudden conquest done overnight. Rather, it was a gradual, slow decay that saw a once proud and mighty race gradually whittle away and decline, until many years ago tomorrow, the last human died. Well, not completely. Many of them, in fact, most of them, joined the race of ponies. In fact, some of you who listen to this broadcast may yourselves be descended from ponies who were at some point humans before their ‘conversions.’ That was what they called it when the humans turned into ponies. That was a long time ago. But before I return you to your music, here’s something for your consideration...”

There was a brief silence. Lollygag wondered just what Vox was going to say, and what he was talking about. He’d never heard anything about humans or conversions or anything like that.

“The last human,” Vox continued. “He didn’t convert. He died. This is the White Rose. Remember.”

The boring violins resumed as though they’d been on air the entire time. Lollygag was disappointed that they came back, but he was glad that Vox of the White Rose had relieved him, if only for a little while.

Lollygag groaned. He knew he had chores, but he didn’t want to do them. On the other hoof, his parents would be mad when they got home and found that he had once again frittered away a summer afternoon. He eventually decided that he would water the plants.

He got up from the couch and trudged to the door. It hadn’t occurred to him that doing something productive was preferable to being bored. He walked out the front door and looked at the hose, coiled up next to the lawn. On the lawn itself, however, he saw something else – countless sheets of paper. He blinked in confusion before he saw another sheaf of paper floating down. He looked around his neighborhood – papers, papers, everywhere, with the other ponies in town just as confused as he was. Some of them were reading them, others were looking up at the sky. Lollygag followed their gaze. He looked up and opened his mouth in shock.

The air was filled with papers, all of them falling from one point. Way up in the sky was an airship; a white zeppelin.

The colt then looked down at one of the leaflets and began to read.

There are times when an injustice is shielded with a lie. And because of this lie, the injustice is allowed to go unpunished, or even justified. We say that we will not stand for this. We declare that we will blow open the lie and expose the hidden injustice with a blaze of truth, so bright that the injustice will shrivel and die in the magnificent heat.

This is our stated purpose: that we will drown out the lie with the truth, until across the land, all will raise their voices and demand that the grave injustice is answered for.

We are the White Rose.

Remember.

-

A young pegasus stallion looked down from the the bridge of the zeppelin, watching as the leaflets fell to Equestria below. His name was Firebrand, so named because of his bright orange mane.

The bridge was sparsely decorated with various nick-knacks, the most prominent of which was a red foam hand mounted on the wall. However, rather than the usual pointer finger, the foam hand extended the middle finger.

“Sir?” asked a familiar voice over the intercom. “We finished our broadcast.”

“I heard, Vox,” said Firebrand. “Good work to Wordsworth and Signal.”

“Aye, sir!” said another male voice over the intercom: Wordsworth.

“Yes, captain,” said a female voice: Signal.

“You don’t think I overdid it on the leaflet, do you?” asked Wordsworth.

Firebrand rolled his eyes. “Considering the subject I don’t think ‘overdoing’ it is a ‘thing.’”

Firebrand smiled. He liked being called ‘captain.’ He went over to the intercom and pushed a button.

“Cogs, Bolter,” he said. “Think we can make it to Canterlot by tomorrow?”

“I think so,” said another female voice. “Unless the guards don’t like what we’re doing.”

“I don’t think they will,” said a male voice.

“Leave that to me,” said Firebrand. “You two just keep her flying.”

He stood at the steering wheel and took a deep breath. He had thought about his plans for a very long time, and now that he had a ship, a crew, and a mission, he was ready to move forward. He flipped a switch, turning on the intercom for the entire ship.

“This is it, everyone. We’re gonna do something big. We’re heading for Canterlot for a meeting with the princesses! Everyone get ready. It’s a biiiig day tomorrow.”

He turned off the intercom and looked at the skyline ahead. He grinned.

Alright, he thought. So, Princess Celestia, you’re a goddess with powerful, ancient magic. You raise the sun, your sister raises the moon, and all of the world adores you. Well, that’s quite a lot. But you know what I’ve got? He turned the steering wheel. I got an airship.

-

In Canterlot castle, Princess Celestia sat in her private chamber, staring down at the flower in front of her.

“Sister?” asked a voice from behind her.

“Yes, Luna?”

“Are you alright?”

Princess Celestia sighed. “Do you know what tomorrow is?”

“I am not sure, sister,” said Luna. She walked up beside her sister and looked down at the white rose before her. “Sister?”

“Tomorrow is the anniversary of the day the last human died.”

“But that was years ago.”

“I still remember it, though,” said Celestia. “I remember the day I saw the last human. How he refused to join the ponies. And he died.”

“He pointed a gun at you, Celestia,” reminded Princess Luna.

Celestia didn’t say anything. “He was scared," she said, "and he was dying. Sometimes I still wonder if we really made the right decision.”

“Well,” said Luna, “all is well now, is it not?”

“I suppose it is,” said Celestia. “I just need some time to think.”

“Very well,” said Princess Luna. “I will leave you towards your thoughts. I have my royal duties to attend to.”

Princess Luna left her sister to contemplate over the white rose and the troubling memory of that day so many years ago, as the other White Rose slowly made its way through the sky, carrying its excited crew.