Interlude: War is Hell.

***

6th March, 2029.

Hell Blazer swore: the smell of burning flesh was never going to be one he liked, no matter how much he smelled it - and in this war, it was a guarantee that you'd end up smelling a lot of it. Especially if you happened to be Hell Blazer, since one of his favourite methods of killing ponies involved throwing fireballs at them.

Unfortunately, the smell clung to everything - clothes, fur, hair…the smell of roasting flesh was almost as sticky (metaphorically speaking) as the smell of the cigarettes Hell Blazer smoked. He coughed slightly, a cigarette sticking out of his mouth, and he wondered about the irony of hating smells that stuck when he smoked like a chimney.

One of the many things Hell Blazer pretty much hated about being a pony - apart from the constant streams of "niceness" instinct (including the instinctive use of pony oaths instead of good old fashioned swear words - was the fact that people always underestimated him, especially because he happened to be an Earth Pony. It was always assumed that he would be useless as a magic support operative (his chosen role on the field - if one could have a 'chosen' role in this war), since Earth Ponies were frontliners through and through.

He always liked proving that assumption dead wrong.

"You know, pony bodies weren't designed for twenty a day," a sarcastic voice put in.

Hell Blazer turned to face the speaker, a green unicorn by the name of True Grit. Grit was a very good soldier, one of the best the Equestrian resistance had ever thrown out. He had been a guard or something similar in the old days, back before Celestia had become Astra Solamina. His experience - and his knowledge of how the Royal Guard fought - had proven invaluable in the early days, and he had been present for the day when Constantine had summoned the Avatar of Albion - and become a pony.

"Alright, nag," Hell Blazer said.

"John," True Grit replied with a nod and smile. It was an interesting thing to note that Hell Blazer had chosen a pony name - though his soul and mind were free of Solamina's influence, he was still a pony with pony urges and some pony culture overlaid onto his mind: that had just been unavoidable, though the ponified swearing was something he could do without. Though he often said "Hell Blazer" was a choice he had made for irony's sake, the truth of the matter was it was the only thing he felt comfortable with: "John" just didn't really feel like him, though that made him ashamed on some dark, cold nights. Only his close friends called him John Constantine still, and that was because he had asked it of them. Only Elliot did it because he wanted to.

"What's the mission?" Hell Blazer asked, bringing his attention back to the here and now.

"We've been asked to go to the Pennines to find the Doctor," Grit said. "My understanding from his report is that he's found some information that could, quote unquote, 'change the course if the war'."

"How many times have we heard that before?" Hell Blazer said grimly. Nonetheless, a part of him was excited. If this was true - and the Doctor made it his business to see that everything he reported was true - then they might have a genuine advantage incoming. That was just plain lucky.

"Why the Pennines?" he asked Grit.

"Because that's where he wanted to meet," True Grit said with a shrug. "I don't know."

Hell Blazer nodded.

"Right then," he said briskly. "Shall we?"

***

The jeep ride to the Pennines wasn't entirely pleasant, but then Hell Blazer had hardly expected it to be. After all: most of the M62 had been broken up or was covered in debris from years of conflict, and though at least one lane was kept (relatively) open for military traffic, most civilian movement was restricted - the sad necessity of conflict (and the sad lack of all that many civilians, given that only fourteen million people were left).

True Grit had picked a crack team to accompany Hell Blazer and himself: apart from the two ponies, there was also an ERAF Pegasus called Errant Flight - Flight had been one of Ditzy Doo's famous Grey Squadron during Manchester, along with a Pegasus called Cloud Ranger: Ranger had been killed in action a few months after Manchester, leaving Errant Flight as the only member of Doo's famous team left alive. Flight was in combat fatigues, flicking his standard-issue ERAF wrist blade out and back again, looking at it with a slightly listless, almost bored expression. As Hell Blazer watched, he flipped the knife a couple of times, before locking it back into place with a sigh.

Errant Flight had issues.

There were also two humans: a former Royal Marine named Harrison and a BDF Engineer named Jan Lockett. Lockett was pretty, blonde, talkative and entirely too young looking to be experienced (at least in Hell Blazer's opinion), but her track record was surprisingly impressive. Harrison, on the other hand, was a taciturn, dark haired man who looked like he had seen five times the death he wanted to. He seemed entirely focused on driving the jeep. Neither of them had sealed their combat suits up yet, but Harrison looked so grim Hell Blazer could have sworn he’d probably evaporate any potion that touched him.

Eventually, they reached their target: a small farm house several miles away from the main M62, situated between one side of the carriageway and the other.

True Grit and Errant Flight stepped out of the jeep first, looking around carefully. After a moment, they signalled to the others. Harrison grabbed his MP5, aiming it at the sky as though looking for squadrons of Pegasi. Lockett on the other hand walked fairly breezily towards the farmhouse, a shotgun slung over her back, Hell Blazer right next to her.

"So," she asked, her voice soft. "What do you think the Doctor will have found?"

"No idea," Hell Blazer said, honestly perplexed by the thought himself. "I can't think of much that will help the war effort. Short of a second Albion..."

"Yeah, that'd be awesome," Lockett said. She was quiet for a moment before continuing. "You ever fought alongside him?"

"In a manner of speaking," Hell Blazer said. He didn't make it common knowledge that he had been the man (at the time) to bring Albion to life, so to speak. "He's something of a mate of mine, actually."

"I saw him fight at Cornwall when Twilight Sparkle's forces landed," Lockett said, excitedly. “That was amazing to see.”

Hell Blazer smiled. He had been at that battle too, though he wasn’t surprised Lockett had never seen him: it had been a pretty bad one. A horde of Solaminan soldiers - mainly Unicorns and Earth Ponies, though they had been covered from above by Pegasi divisions still - had managed to break through the blockade surrounding Britain and launch a mainland assault.

They had landed in assault craft - thousands of them. Their attack had been co-ordinated well, complete with Pegasi covering them from above, threatening to overwhelm the defensive line. The only thing that stopped them was when Albion had stood in front of the horde and unleashed a wave of energy that shattered the attacking forces, scattering their troops and killing many.

What wasn't common knowledge was that the effort had knocked him out for several days - he had only been saved by the timely intervention of a young soldier named Eric Smith. Hell Blazer had told Elliot not to use the power of Albion overmuch, and instead try to use small portions of the power at a time to augment his own inbuilt fighting ability. The full power was... not good for him. In fact, if Hell Blazer didn’t know better, the power would probably kill him.

“Hold up,” Harrison said, holding up a hand. He looked at the farmhouse suspiciously. “Suits on!”

He pulled a hood over his head and then put a gas mask over his face, Lockett doing the same: they were now sealed up and protected from potion attack. Hell Blazer frowned, coming up to him.

“What did you see?” he asked, scanning the area. It seemed entirely deserted to him, but he wasn’t normally one to ignore the Royal Marines when he had one with him.

“Unsure,” Harrison said, his voice muffled by the gas mask. “Looks clear, but I’m getting a bad feeling…”

Bad feelings were something Hell Blazer – ever since he had been a young man – had a lot of experience with.

“Ok,” he said softly after a moment. “We’ll be careful.”

“Yes sir,” Harrison said.

Hell Blazer looked around again, trying to see if he could see anything, but as far as he could tell there was nothing at all. It was frustrating, but he would deal with it.

When they reached the house, the door opened quickly. The Doctor looked out at them, tired eyes regarding the group carefully.

“Inside, quickly,” he said after a moment. He seemed oddly furtive.

“Doctor?” Hell Blazer asked.

“We haven’t much time,” the Time Lord/Earth Pony said. “I have a defector.”

“A what?” Hell Blazer asked. “A defector?”

“That is what I said,” the Doctor said wryly, giving him an almost amused look (almost amused was about all the pony could ever manage now). “Quickly now.”

The group went into the battered, ruined living room of the house, where a white unicorn sat. He looked tired and slightly drawn, as though he had been roughing it for some time. When True Grit saw him, he gasped in shock at the familiar sight.

“Prince Blueblood?” he said, shocked. "Is that you?"

The former member of the royal family smiled tiredly. “I’d rather not have the title, if it’s all the same to you.” He sounded wryly amused, but there was a hint of gallows humour to it. “It apparently now comes with rather a lot of things I’d rather not be involved in… or even know existed, tell the truth.”

“You’ve defected?” True Grit asked, regarding him with a dark frown – he had never had much respect for the aristocrat. “But you were…”

“I was one of Empress Astra Solamina’s councillors,” Blueblood supplied helpfully. “Oh yes, I know. I was lucky. It was that or soldiering, and I’m sure you know what they do to the Guard these days - well, you might know more than me, actually…”

True Grit nodded, an angry scowl developing on his face at the thought of many of his old friends, now his enemies because of the Tyrant Empress.

“Why defect?” Hell Blazer asked. He hated sounding cynical – a high ranking defector sounded like a miracle, and Hell Blazer had seen far too many miracles that weren't really miracles back in the day. Plus he knew Blueblood's name, and it didn't exactly come with any goodwill from those who spoke it.

“Because she swept away the council,” Blueblood said simply. “Not that she ever really listened to us anyway, but it’s surprising how much suffering you totally miss when you’re a puppet councillor.”

“Oh, I see,” True Grit smirked. “Once you were part of the common folk, you decided to quit because you couldn’t handle it.”

“Actually no,” Blueblood said, sounding surprisingly humble rather than insulted. “Once I saw the army in person, the recruits and the things she told them... and once I'd seen the common folk and their suffering… once I’d heard about Cloudsdale, and the Converted... that was when I knew.” He sighed. “I’ve been indolent, maybe even a little corrupt, in the past, I know that... but I've always believed in Equestria being a free state. I thought it was, even when Auntie declared herself Empress, but... it just isn’t.”

“It hasn’t been for years,” Errant put in, sounding annoyed. “Cloudsdale was sanctioned, for example…”

“I know that now!” Blueblood said angrily. “Don’t you understand, I know now. I know everything.” He started sobbing slightly. “Everything she’s done…”

"It's alright," the Doctor said, trying to comfort the unicorn and failing. "You're going to be alright."

Blueblood calmed himself. "I managed to get away thanks to your friend the Doctor," he added, indicating the Earth Pony. The Doctor shrugged.

"I was in the neighbourhood, trying to see if I could recruit. Any more for our cause," the Time Lord said simply. "I found him drinking and after a chat, offered amnesty to him."

"That was a big risk, Doc," True Grit said, sounding a mite annoyed.

"It was one I felt was worth taking," the Doctor rejoined. "We need all the help we can get."

“Apart from yourself, what do you have to give us?” Hell Blazer asked. One pony wasn’t so important, and the Doctor knew that.

“Pfft,” Blueblood snorted. “You think I came here just to save my own skin? Hardly. I won’t pretend it was entirely altruistic, but there are far safer options than you humans you know, even if there is the Wall to consider…”

"Then why are you here?" True Grit asked.

"I was getting to that," Blueblood said. He used his magic – Harrison and Lockett tensed, but then from a satchell near him, a series of papers appeared, levitating in a soft light.

“What is that?” Hell Blazer asked.

“The best thing you’ll ever see,” Blueblood replied. “Copies of Royal Decrees for the next twenty major attacks.”

“Twenty major attacks?” Hell Blazer repeated, dumbfounded. “What do you…?”

"I snuck them out before Solamina dissolved the council," Blueblood said, sounding slightly abashed. "I thought I could use them for leverage, but when the Doctor convinced me to join you I realised they could help your forces; there's enough in here to wreck my Aunt's plans for months. There’s everything here from an attack on farmland in the Midlands to a full scale attack on London. You need to get this to your commanders.”

“Yes,” Hell Blazer said, eyes wide as he regarded the package. “Yes, we do!” He pocketed the documents quickly. “We need to go.”

"I'm more than happy about that," Blueblood said with a wry smile. The group moved for the door immediately.

"Hold up," Harrison said, holding up a hand. "I'll take point. Got to be careful. Lockett, on me."

Hell Blazer nodded, and the man headed for the door. Carefully, he opened the door, aiming his MP5 out into the Pennines. After a moment, he gestured, and Lockett moved up, her own weapon now out. They slowly moved away from the farmhouse, weapons aimed dead ahead. Hell Blazer waited from the door, looking out at the surrounding area nervously. His bad feeling was just getting worse.

"Is this really necessary?" Lockett asked, her voice muffled slightly by her mask. "There's nothing out there."

"You wouldn't be asking that if you knew how many times I've been ambushed," Harrison said. "Ponies are tricky bastards. Don't let anyone tell you different -"

He was cut off by a sudden spear being lodged in his chest. His eyes transfixed on it for a moment, and he let out a soft "huh" before dropping to the ground dead.

Locket yelped in shock and stepped back, as suddenly roughly twenty ponies appeared from nowhere, led by...

"Oh shit!" Hell Blazer swore. There, at the head of this squadron of ponies, stood Twilight Sparkle, dressed in her full ornate battle armour, purple cloak emblazoned with Solamina's sun-symbol flowing slightly in the breeze.

Lockett stepped back, firing her shotgun in panic (she was, after all, facing one of the most dangerous ponies known to man), but she didn't hit anything in her panic - and then she was blasted backwards by a purple spell, her body slightly charred. Quickly, Hell Blazer grabbed her and pulled her inside, closing the door. The Doctor was on her immediately, scanning and pulling her gas mask off: she was badly burnt on one side of her face.

"Shit!" he swore. "This is bad!"

"Attention former Prince Blueblood!" the voice of Twilight Sparkle spoke, resonating across the field. She sounded older and harder than her years suggested but that was more common than anyone was comfortable with. "We know you are in there. Surrender now and your death and those of your pony compatriots will be swift and merciful."

"No it won't," Blueblood snorted quietly. "They'll string me up, and more likely than not they'll brainwash all of the ponies here and convert the girl."

Before anyone else could speak, True Grit moved to the front door, his horn glowing. The door glowed too, the glow not dissipating: whatever True Grit had done, it had apparently enchanted the door.

"That should keep them out for a little while," Grit said. A banging started. "But Sparkle's a powerful magician."

"Oh Horsefea- shit," Hell Blazer swore, trying to ignore his lapse into pony-speak. He wished Elliot was here - against Sparkle, the Avatar of Albion might be the only hope they'd normally have. Still, provided they got out without directly confronting her...

"Is there another way out?" he asked, turning to the Doctor.

"The TARDIS," the Time Lord replied at once. "It's upstairs."

The sound of shattering glass came from upstairs, and Hell Blazer swore.

"Apparently, so are the enemy," Errant Flight said, rolling his head and loosening his muscles. "Grit?"

"On it," True Grit said, moving to cover the stairwell. "Doctor, any way to get your ship down here without going up there?"

"Unlikely," the Doctor said. "I've no means of remote summoning her at present."

"Plan B then," True Grit sighed, and he charged upstairs, Errant Flight right behind him, combat knife held awkwardly between his teeth. The Doctor followed - he wasn't much of a fighter, but he needed to get to his ship.

"Great," Hell Blazer said, turning to Blueblood, who looked unhappy. "They leave us pretty much alone."

Before Blueblood could reply, another window caved in, a Pegasus landing in a heap in the room. He looked up at Blueblood and Hell Blazer, before bellowing a battle cry, charging at them. Before he could reach them, however, a table had been launched from the living room, impacting on the Pegasus and knocking him into a wall, dazed. Hell Blazer turned, to see Blueblood staring at the Pegasus, eyes wide and horn still glowing, panting slightly.

"I've never done that before," he said softly. "Never even thought about it."

"Good work," Hell Blazer said shortly. "You might have just saved our skins."

"Hey, you two!" Errant Flight called, and Hell Blazer turned to see him standing by the stairs, True Grit levitating Lockett up the steps slowly. "We need to go!"

The banging on the door was getting heavier, and the glow was fading slightly. Elsewhere in the farmhouse, other windows were being smashed.

"They're finding other ways in!" Blueblood said, eyes wide as he reached the stairs.

"Move it, you royal pain-in-my-flank!" Errant said, pushing the erstwhile Prince up the steps. Hell Blazer followed them, only to stop at the top of the stairs.

"Oh, I've wanted to do this," he said with a soft smile. He closed his eyes and summoned a fireball, just as the front door burst open, Twilight Sparkle standing there, furious rage in her eyes and three of her team behind her.

"Regards from Liverpool, bitch!" Hell Blazer yelled, the fireball zooming at Sparkle before she could react. Not waiting to see what happened, he bolted.

The fireball impacted on Sparkle, but she had been imbued with a portion of the great Solamina's power and was relatively unhurt, though singed. Her comrades were not so lucky, their burnt corpses lying against the doorway.

She raced up the stairs and into the nearest bedroom, eager to kill Blueblood herself if he wouldn't come quietly... but she found herself facing a slowly vanishing blue box, making a loud trumpeting noise.

"Horseapples," she swore. Oh well: there was always next time.

***

The Doctor moved around his console, looking as though he was concentrating heavily: the machine couldn't travel far, the magical energy saturating Earth making it difficult to navigate, but as an island hopper it worked quite well. True Grit and Errant Flight were checking on Lockett, who was unconscious but supposedly alright, a fact for which Hell Blazer was remarkably grateful.

Blueblood, meanwhile, was panting slightly, looking scared. Hell Blazer walked up to him.

"Not bad today, mate," he said. Blueblood smiled, but looked slightly nauseous.

"I..." He swallowed. "I hope I can keep being of use."

True Grit snorted. "No offence, but we need fighters more than royals right now."

"Actually," the Doctor said, turning away from his console for a moment, "there is one use the former prince may have."

"Oh?" Errant Flight said, sounding sceptical. "Wanna clue us in Doc?"

"He is a relative of Solamina, correct?" the Time Lord pointed out.

"Yes, so?" True Grit asked, sounding vaguely annoyed. Hell Blazer, on the other hand, suddenly got it.

"You think that'd work?" he asked the Time Lord. The Doctor shrugged.

"We could do worse," he said. "If he was on the council, he knows something about the logistics of being in charge."

"I'm sorry," Blueblood said, "but what are you talking about?"

"I'd like to know that myself," True Grit said, and Errant Flight nodded, frowning at the Time Lord, who was now, for some reason, smiling.

"Mr Blueblood," the Doctor asked the unicorn, "how would you like to be the official leader of an Equestrian Government-in-exile?"

Blueblood's eyes widened, and then - somewhat surprisingly - he fainted.

"Well," Hell Blazer said, looking at the unconscious pony with a wry grin. "There are worse reactions."

"You can't be serious," True Grit said, looking horrified.

"Why not?" the Doctor asked. "He's aware of the basic logistics of the task, and he seems willing enough to repent his work and at the same time somewhat wary of power given what he's seen of it's abuse. I'd argue that it would be a perfect choice."

"Because he's Prince Bucking Blueblood, that's why!" Errant Flight said. "He's a royal pain-in-the-butt!"

"But the royal part makes him a legitimate part of the line," Hell Blazer pointed out. "And that legitimacy makes him propaganda's new best friend."

True Grit and Errant Flight looked at each other uneasily. They weren't exactly happy about all this but... well, it was a plan.

"Now we just need to convince the powers that be," the Doctor said, returning to the console. Hell Blazer chuckled and patted the still-unconscious Blueblood on the shoulder.

"Welcome to office, mate," he said.

***

Author's Notes:

The first interlude, one of several chapters that'll be dotted throughout showing what life was like during the course of the war, focusing on characters who aren't Elliot. I hope you enjoyed it: regular reading will shortly resume.

EDIT: This chapter was (re)edited 2nd July 2015.