December 28, Modern Era Year 3

1132 Hours

Canterlot, Equestria

Tap tap tap tap.

Hooves rapped against the heavy oak table in steady rhythm like a drumline. Tap tap tap tap. It broke the silence like a maddening metronome. From his seat, Fleethoof listened to the beat. It worked its way into his brain, thrumming along to his heartbeat. His weary blue eyes stared across the table’s surface with no emotion or focus, lost to the maelstrom of memories swirling around his mind. He saw snow—so much snow dancing in the arctic air. Trees reached out to him with gnarled limbs from the darkness. A chill ran down his spine.

“…Captain?”

Fleethoof’s body shivered against the cold. The rapping drummed inside his brain. The darkness swallowed the trees like a ravenous predator. He reached up and grasped the small pendant hanging around his neck like it would disappear if he didn’t hold onto it. Where had the convoy gone? His gun felt heavy in his hooves. His hoof flexed over a grip that wasn’t there. His gun wasn’t in his hooves. Why wasn’t she responding?

“Captain Fleethoof?”

Celestia’s voice banished the cold and the dark from his mind. His head shot up, staring in surprise across the table as if he had just been shaken out of slumber. Princess Celestia and Princess Luna exchanged a look. Fleethoof saw the gamut of emotions pass through the two. Concern, fear, uncertainty.

“Are you feeling well?” Celestia asked.

Fleethoof felt warmth flush beneath his cheeks. “Yes, your majesty. I’m sorry, it must be the medication.” He lifted his injured leg hung in a sling in demonstration.

His eyes fell from the princesses before he could see their disbelieving looks. He didn’t want to know how bad his lie had been. Instead, he ran his gaze across the other ponies seated around the table. All of Skyfall had been gathered to the meeting in the castle, called forth by the princesses themselves. In light of recent events, Fleethoof wasn’t too surprised. He knew how well the investigation into their ambush had been going. That was to say, it wasn’t.

Everypony looked as downtrodden and defeated as he felt. Their attempts to draw out Alaric had been a catastrophic disaster as far as the record books were concerned. Failure twisted up Fleethoof’s insides like a sickness. His head was throbbing. He chalked it up to the fracture and concussion. And now here they sat, Sharp Shot rapping his hooves on the table while they waited for the last few ponies to arrive.

A gentle hoof rested on his shoulder, giving Fleethoof a start. He glanced to his side in a quick motion, eyes meeting the warm gold of Midnight’s. She said nothing, offering him instead a look that spoke volumes. He offered her a trace of a smile in return. His memory from before he woke up in Canterlot Royal Hospital was a blurry haze, but he distinctly remembered Midnight sitting in his ward, sound asleep in an uncomfortable looking armchair. She had waited for him to regain consciousness, the doctor had told him. She didn’t leave his side for a minute.

Fleethoof’s eyes dropped from hers, then made their way over to Valiant. The pony had his leg done up in a cast, but otherwise expressed no discomfort or pain, just the same disappointment everypony felt. He flinched as he imagined the pain he must have gone through. That stallion had an uncanny ability to draw fire in the worst ways possible.

“Are you okay, Fleet?” Midnight asked to his side. He cast her a sideways glance, not lifting his head from its hung state. “If you’re not, you don’t have to be here. We can—”

The doors leading into the room burst open before she could finish her suggestion to leave. Fleethoof listened as hooves pounded against the stone floors with murderous aggression, heading in his direction. His eyes drooped closed while he sucked in a slow breath, releasing it in one long sigh. He didn’t need to turn around to know who it was.

“Where is he?!”

“Captain Armor, please calm down—”

“Get off me! Don’t tell me to calm down! Where’s Fleethoof?”

“I’m here,” Fleethoof responded as placidly as he could, leaving his eyes closed.

The hoofsteps thundered right up behind his chair, and the next thing Fleethoof knew, he was being spun around like a top. He made the mistake of opening his eyes. Shining had his hooves on either side of the stallion, pinning him to the chair as he loomed above him, a look more livid than Fleethoof had ever seen smoldering in his eyes.

“One job. You had one job to do! You promised me you’d look after her!” he shouted.

Behind him, a beige pony and two guards rushed up to Shining, throwing their hooves around him and trying to pull him away. The captain didn’t so much as budge. “Captain Armor, control yourself!”

Shining snorted and pushed the pony away, focusing all of his attention on Fleethoof. Fleethoof’s heart broke when he saw the hurt look in Shining’s eyes. He knew he had failed. He knew he had let everypony down. Seeing just how much he had let his best friend down only made it all the worse.

“…I’m sorry…”

“Oh, you’re sorry?” Shining scoffed and choked on his anger. “Why don’t you tell that to the ponies in the morgue? Why don’t you tell that to Cadance?!”

“Captain Armor,” Celestia started. “Lower your voice and have a seat.”

Shining Armor snorted again, but relented and moved away from Fleethoof. “I’ll stand.”

“Very well. Minister, have a seat. Guards, please leave us to our business.”

The soldiers saluted and made for the door while the beige pony straightened his wrinkled blazer and moved with fluid grace across the room to take a seat beside the princess. The room was flooded with a palpable tension. Shining Armor paced back and forth along the perimeter of the table. His rage radiated off of him like an aura. Sharp Shot had become quiet, no longer rapping his hooves out of boredom. Other than Shining’s steady clip-clop of hooves on the ground, the room was still.

“We all know why we are here, and we are all here for the same purpose,” Celestia said, glancing between the faces gathered around the table. “We are all concerned for the safety of Princess Cadance. It is our duty and our responsibility to find her and rescue her.”

“We wouldn’t have to save her if she was never captured…” Shining muttered.

Fleethoof snapped his eyes shut tight. The darkness came back. The cold chilled him to the bone. Cadance screamed from somewhere in time. But he couldn’t see anything. His fractured memory bounded from moment to moment, blending together in a whirlwind of snow and ice and dark colors.

“You need to stop saying things like that, sir,” Valiant spoke up in objection. “We did our best. You weren’t there.”

“If I was, this whole mess wouldn’t have happened at all.”

“Captain, Sergeant, control yourselves.”

“No. I’m sorry, Princess, but I will not,” Shining retorted. “Eight of my ponies are dead, another one wounded. Cadance is missing, and what do we have to show for it? Nothing! Four days of investigating and nothing! We are no closer to finding Cadance than when we began. Each day is another day she gets further and further away. It’s only a matter of time before we lose her completely!”

Celestia was taken aback by Shining’s outburst. “Captain, please settle down.”

Shining Armor laughed. “How can you even suggest that? Cadance, your niece and a princess of Equestria, has been kidnapped! How can you be so calm?!”

“Because panicking is exactly how you lose control of a situation like this. I am worried, Captain Armor, but losing my mind won’t help anypony—especially not Cadance,” Celestia said and motioned to an empty chair. “Sit. You’re going to worry yourself sick.”

Shining Armor relented and scraped a chair across the floor before plopping himself down gracelessly into it. Fleethoof opened his eyes and stared at the table. His eyes unconsciously trailed the grain in the wood while his memory ran rampant trying to piece itself together. Huge gaps dissected the event to a point of unfamiliarity. It was like trying to watch an old movie with parts of the footage clipped out. He heard the scream and saw the destroyed interior of the carriage, and the next he was stumbling through the snow. Why couldn’t he remember?

Voices rose out of the wind screaming through his memory, muffled and distant. Their shouts fell on deaf ears as he fought his way through the haze that had claimed him, just as he had fought through the snow and the bullets to get to Cadance. The table shook beneath his hooves. Somepony had hit it with tremendous force. The shock threw him back into the carriage. He was tumbling about in the darkness with Cadance mere inches away. She was reaching for him, her wide eyes full of fear and a plight for help.

And then she was pulled into the darkness.

“Fleethoof…?”

A nudge on his shoulder threw Fleethoof violently back into the present. His head snapped up, and he realized all eyes were upon him. A cold sweat had broken out across his brow and his hoof was shaking as it gripped onto the edge of the table. His hoof held in a sling was still tensed around an invisible gun. He followed the pressure that had brought him back with his eyes till he met Midnight’s. She looked like he was about to have a seizure at a moment’s notice.

He exhaled hard and released his tense muscles until his hoof unfurled. His heart raced in his chest like he were galloping across the plains instead of sitting idle before the rulers of his country. The adrenaline pumping through his veins mad whim feel sick to his stomach. He was losing control of himself.

“You see, Princess?” Shining Armor said with a motion to Fleethoof. “He’s in no condition to be doing anything right now! He’s barely paying attention right now!”

Celestia held up a hoof to Shining Armor. Her eyes, which had remained locked with Fleethoof’s, didn’t waver in their intensity for even the briefest of seconds. “Captain Fleethoof, could you please tell me what your opinion is of Captain Armor’s suggestion?”

Fleethoof froze. It was like middle school all over again. He had been called on to answer a question he hadn’t even heard, and he was just as screwed now as he was back then. Fleethoof delayed, racking his brain to try and remember anything he might have picked up subconsciously when he drifted out. Only blankness and snow greeted him.

“Captain…?”

“…I can’t, your majesty.”

“I see…” Celestia looked away, over to the pony she had addressed as the minister before. “I fear your recommendation must be followed, Minister, as well as yours, Captain Armor. Henceforth, Skyfall Unit shall be taken off active duty and Captain Armor’s troops will commence with the search for Princess Cadance.”

That caught Fleethoof’s undivided attention very quickly. “What? Your majesty, please—”

“Do as you see fit, Captain Armor. Just bring her back to us.”

“Yes, your highness.” Shining turned and shot a look at Fleethoof that stabbed him in the heart. “I won’t fail.”

“Princess Celestia, please let us assist in the search,” Fleethoof pleaded. “We’re of no use to you on the sidelines.”

“You’ll be no use dead either, Captain, and in your state, I’m convinced you’ll wind up that way.” Celestia’s rebuttal was gentle, yet adamant. He could tell there would be no persuading the princess. “Take the time off. That’s an order.”

“Princess, I must protest—”

“I’m sorry, Fleethoof, but my decision is final.”

“Princess—”

“Captain Fleethoof. If I may…” The minister leaned across the table towards him, extending a hoof as if he were reaching out to connect with him. “You are in no condition to be galavanting around the world doing Celestia knows what to your already beaten body. Take the time off to recover and recuperate, then come back when you’re at your full strength. If not for yourself, do it for your ponies. Running yourselves ragged will do your unit no good.”

Fleethoof was stricken silent by the politician’s sage words. He looked around the table at the faces of each of his teammates. They showed no remorse or reluctance or reservation. All he saw was concern. His eyes settled on Valiant—on the cast he wore. He glanced down at his own injured hoof. His brain knew recovering was the best option for his team right now.

His heart still refused to accept it.

“…Fine,” he muttered.

Shining Armor rose from the table in a rush and stormed with heavy hoofsteps past him out of the room. Fleethoof listened to the doors swing wide and then slam shut again and flinched. Shining Armor blamed him. He couldn’t fault him for that. He blamed himself.

Princess Celestia sighed and tipped her head to the ponies still seated and said, “Very well then. Go, enjoy your rests. Spend time with your loved ones. Shining Armor can handle things from here.” She turned her eyes to Fleethoof in particular. “You all just focus on getting well again. I don’t want to see you anywhere near your headquarters for a time. Is that clear?”

Fleethoof averted his eyes like a guilty foal whose mother had accused him of smashing a vase. He hadn’t been taken off active duty since the end of the war years ago, and even then that was only for a couple months. He had never been not on some sort of alert, ready to spring into action when needed. Now, the throbbing in his head and the ache that had settled in the joints in his wounded leg dared him to attempt any springing.

“Crystal, your majesty.”

Celestia sighed and rose from the table, her motherly expression softening in turn. “Go rest, my little ponies. You’ve done all you can do.”

The rest of Skyfall rose in respect while the princesses made their way back out to resume their royal duties before leaving themselves. Only Fleethoof remained, lingering at the table. He would have given them a customary salute, had such an action not threatened to put him facedown on the floor. His eyes remained lowered to the floor, not wanting to look the princesses nor his team in the eye. He had lost their niece while she was in his care. He had failed his teammates. How could he dare make eye contact with them?

“Captain Fleethoof.” Luna’s voice brought Fleethoof’s head up. She was standing beside him now with that beige stallion—the minister. “Are you positive you are well?”

Fleethoof did his best to appear resolute. “I’m perfect, your majesty. Never better…”

She gave him a sagacious smile; it was obvious she didn’t believe him, but she let it drop regardless. “I don’t believe you’ve met Minister Just Cause yet, have you?”

“Pleased to meet you, Captain. I’ve heard many great things.” The pony straightened the collar of his suit and offered a hoof to the captain, then retracted it with an embarrassed laugh at the acerbic look Fleethoof gave him when he lifted his injured leg. “Ah, right, the leg. Sorry.”

“No worries. You’re the minster of what exactly?”

The pony boasted a proud smile and said, “Defense. Or War, as my political opposition likes to demonize me as.”

“Right. Sorry I haven’t gotten around to meeting you sooner, Minister. I have a thing against bureaucrats.” With that, Fleethoof dipped his head and turned to leave.

“Captain, I invited Minister Cause here today so that you and he may form a kinship together,” Luna said in her typical much-too-formal dialect. “We must always remember that we are all on the same side. It is imperative that we maintain positive relations with our allies, foreign and domestic, despite our prejudices. Now make friends.”

Fleethoof sighed and fought against rolling his eyes. “Have you ever served, Minister?”

“No, I have not.”

“Have you ever had any family serve?”

“I can’t say that I have.”

“Yeah, I think we’re done here.”

Once again, Fleethoof’s attempts to flee were thwarted when Luna stepped around to blockade the retreating officer. She said nothing, but the stern gaze she settled on Fleethoof told him more than words could. His expression soured, and he turned back around.

“Captain, I can understand your distrust toward my kind. I know the stories and jokes about politicians. I hear about a dozen a day at the local coffee shops. But believe me when I say I am on your side in this. I know of the Skyfall credo, I know of your operations and your methods. Princess Luna has brought me up to speed on your actions. I support what you do regardless of what you think of me. My job isn’t to make your life harder. Princess Luna brought me on to make it so that I can help protect and guide you.”

Fleethoof scoffed and shook his head. “How can you protect us? What can you offer my team?”

“Immunity, firstly. If you get caught on foreign soil, who do you think will be bailing your flank out of federal prison?”

“Minister Cause has also penned several training programs with Captain Armor, and written several protocols that will protect the secrecy of your special operations,” Luna explained further. “In fact, he is the pony that helped me create the criteria for your team when he was still a congresspony. So in a manner, you two have been partners before you even met.”

Just Cause risked a step closer toward the trapped captain. “Don’t shut me out, Captain. Let me be your ally.”

“Ally…” Fleethoof scoffed again. “You just had me and my team benched. You took me away from finding Cadance and making everything right. Why should I trust you?”

“Because if I let you go, I’d be burying an officer rather than making a powerful friend.”

“All I ask is that you give him a chance, Captain,” Luna said. “Minister Cause has many revolutionary ideas I think you would have a vested interest in if you’d collaborate together.”

Fleethoof ran his tongue over his rough, dry lips while he pondered that statement. He glanced up at Just Cause, sapphire eyes meeting cyan. There was a look of longing in them. He yearned to be involved in what they did. He could never understand. And he didn’t trust a politician as far as he could throw him.

“We’ll see…” was all he responded with, then nodded his head to both ponies and limped his way past. Out in the hall, Midnight was waiting against the wall, staring at him with such intensity he doubted the Thestral could see anything else. He cast a sideways glance at her for a brief moment, then another.

“…What?”

“Do you trust the stiff in the suit?” she asked.

Fleethoof suppressed a laugh. A wry smirk settled over his lips. “I don’t think I have much of a choice. When we get back on duty, I’ll give him a trial run and see how he handles us. If he really does prove to be helpful, then I don’t see a reason to not have another friend in high places on our side. If not…”

“Captain Fleethoof?”

The gravelly voice was not one Fleethoof recognized. He glanced up at the bat pony approaching the two of them with swift strides. He stood a full head taller than he did, his dark purple breastplate of the Lunar Guard seeming snug around the toned muscles beneath his skin. His dusky periwinkle mane lay in a messy disarray, his bangs hanging just above his brow. His eyes were a sight that shocked Fleethoof. A rainbow of colors ran through his irises, one covering the spectrum with blazing hues while the other was chilled with cooler colors. He had never seen a pony with such striking eyes before.

“Yes?”

Thwack.

The hoof connected with his jaw before he even realized the pony had thrown a punch. He was on the floor in the next instant, staring up at a spinning ceiling while bells rang in his head. A dull ache thrummed in his cheek where his jawbone met the rest of his skull.

“You bastard!”

“Bor! What the fuck?!”

“Step aside, Midnight. This is between me and him.”

“Not a chance!”

Fleethoof sat up, rubbing his aching jaw. Midnight had placed herself in between him and his assailant, somehow stopping the much bigger pony with her presence alone. The two were glaring at each other with such intense emotions it shocked the already stunned pony.

“What the hell—?”

“I read the reports about the ambush,” the bat pony shouted down at him, pointing an accusatory hoof at him. “How dare you put your team in danger like that? What kind of leader are you that you put your new recruits on the front-fucking-lines?!”

He made a move for the downed stallion again, but Midnight sidestepped in his way again. She pressed a hoof to his chest, holding him back with what seemed like no trouble at all. He snorted, but made no effort to push past her. Fleethoof knew there was something he was missing. This pony could bulldozer past Cupcake with that kind of unbridled rage. There was no way Midnight Dasher was overpowering him.

“Leave him alone, Borealis!” snapped Midnight and pushed against his chest. The Thestral stallion didn’t so much as twitch. “It wasn’t his fault. I volunteered to do this. This is what I signed up for. This is what you signed off on, for Luna’s sake!”

Borealis…? Fleethoof’s eyes widened in realization. Now he knew who he was dealing with. Cold dread settled in the pit of his stomach. Commander Borealis, Captain of the Lunar Guard. The most feared and respected leader of the Nightwatch since the Solar-Lunar Civil War, and a force to be reckoned with.

“Commander Borealis,” Fleethoof began, reorienting himself on the floor as he spoke, “I’m sorry, I didn’t think Midnight would be in any danger with me. I was looking out for her.”

“Nopony’s talking to you, featherweight. And you better stay down if you know what’s good for you, or I’ll be introducing your face to the floor again,” Borealis hissed and flashed his fangs at Fleethoof.

“You need to stop doing this, Bor.” Midnight kept her hoof pressed against his breastplate like it made any difference. Borealis’ eyes locked with hers again. “I’m under Fleethoof’s command now, not yours. You can’t keep tracking me down when I get in even the slightest bit of trouble. It’s not appropriate, and it’s creepy. I have my own life and you have yours.”

Borealis’ hardened gaze of bloodlust gradually softened and melted like snow. He exhaled in what sounded like a growl to Fleethoof. “Ambushes and gunfights in the woods…? This is what you wanted to be doing? At least when you were with me, I knew the worst that could happen was you’d prank the wrong pony. This is a whole new degree of paranoia for me.”

“Then stop worrying about me! I’m a big girl. I can look after myself. You know that.”

“…I’m not gonna lie, you’re making the whole ‘letting you go’ thing really tough, Middy…” he muttered.

“Yeah, well, when have I ever made anything easy?”

Borealis grumbled something indiscernible beneath his breath and settled a dark leer over Fleethoof. “If anything happens to her, I’ll have your blood.”

“Goodbye, Bor,” Midnight intervened, shooting a look at the Lunar commander the likes Fleethoof had never seen the mare wear before as she dipped her head down and nudged him back to his hooves.

“You’re making a mistake, Midnight,” Borealis shouted after her. “Don’t turn your back on the pony that cares about you!”

“Shut up!” she snapped back, and then they were gone.

Midnight escorted Fleethoof further down the halls, keeping herself between him and Borealis until they had rounded the corner and made it out of the commander’s sight. She glanced back over her shoulder to make sure he wasn’t following before allowing herself to relax.

“Sorry about that… Did he hurt you?”

Fleethoof shook his head. “Nah. He’s not the first to take a swing at me, and he sure as hell won’t be the last.”

“Well, I’m still sorry. He’s usually better behaved than that,” she sighed.

“Why is the commander of the Lunar Guard coming after me?” he asked, casting his gaze upon her stony face. Her expression gave nothing away. “Why is he so gung-ho to protect you?”

Midnight didn’t say a word. Her eyes dropped to the floor for a brief moment, a fleeting flash of something hidden away dancing across her eyes.

“Is there something going on between you two?”

The corners of Midnight’s mouth turned up in a smirk. “You could say that.”

Fleethoof blinked his eyes in surprise at Midnight’s straightforwardness. He had known of her outward flirting she’d done with him since the day they’d met. It was impossible to miss. But seeing her now with Commander Borealis had been a shock. Her taste apparently ran towards ponies in officers’ clothes.

“Doesn’t seem like it ended on a good note…” he observed.

“No, it kinda didn’t,” Midnight said with a touch of regret in her voice. “He was upset at first. Then he was just angry. But he didn’t have much of a choice. I wanted to leave, so I left.”

Fleethoof was surprised she had been so cold about the ordeal. “But didn’t you care about him?”

“Of course I care about him! I love him, and I still do. But he’s a bit of a flank sometimes and needs to be put in his place.”

“And who better to do that than you…”

Midnight giggled and flipped her mane out of her eyes. “You know me so well, Fleety.”

Fleethoof smiled a little, but felt he was still missing a piece of the puzzle. He had heard the tales of the mighty Commander Borealis. He never seemed the desperate type to pursue a lost lover.

“Who is he to you now?” he asked Midnight. “Why’s he still following you if he’s no longer your CO?”

“Ugh, probably because he’s ‘doing his job’ and being overprotective… as usual…” she muttered.

“Around these parts, that’s known as stalking…”

“Well, things are a little more complicated than that.”

“How much more complicated?”

Midnight shook her head. “It doesn’t matter. You wouldn’t understand.”

“Try me.”

“Look, can we just let it die, please?” Midnight turned a sharp look toward Fleethoof, taking him off guard. Her expression softened with a sigh and she diverted her gaze again. “I just… I don’t want to talk about it, okay?”

Fleethoof had never known Midnight to be so guarded about anything like this. The way she avoided making eye contact, her attempts to divert the conversation… Whatever her history with Commander Borealis was, it was intense and deeply personal enough to get the usually candid Thestral to retreat into her shell. While he wanted to understand and know more, he could see the subject was delicate. In his mind, he made a note to pursue it on his own time.

“All right. We’ll let it lie,” he spoke under his breath.

“Thank you.” Midnight was quiet for a moment. She chewed on her bottom lip, looking down and away from him. “So what do we do now?”

“You heard the princesses…” He hung his head and sighed. “We’re done. We do nothing. It’s all up to Shining Armor now.”