Council Chamber, Somewhere in Scotland, September 10th, 2030.

The human race had been drastically diminished by the war with Solamina, and before that by the expansion of the Barrier. In surviving the horrors that had been inflicted, they had learned to give up many of the freedoms that they had once thought so important in their lives - the most obvious being leadership that was democratically elected. In place of the democratic bodies that had once led most of the world, there had been a Council set up: one representative for human civilian interests, one representative for human military interests and one Equestrian representative for the Equestrian Resistance. While the war was over, it would be a long time before the Council would be disbanded and democratic rule returned - there was far too much to do.

The Council chambers were hidden in a complex somewhere in a secret location in Scotland, where they could never be located by the Solaminan forces. Within that complex, a magenta Earth Pony walked, heading for the Council chambers themselves. A moment later, she entered the small circular room.

"Mr Sato, General Redmond," Councillor Cheerilee said politely as she greeted the two other members of the Earth Council. With Prince Blueblood's return to Equestria and his assumption of the mantle of Prince of the new government, it seemed prudent that Cheerilee once again resume her post as representative for the ponies on Earth.

"Ma’am," General Redmond replied politely. The dark-skinned Texan man was the replacement for General Paul Anderson, a blonde Australian who had resigned shortly after Solamina’s defeat and promptly left the army. apparently, he was eager to leave the life of war behind him.

Mr Sato was a Japanese man of larger build who had been appointed the representative of the civilian refugees when the first Council had been inaugurated. He bowed to Cheerilee without a word.

"What’s on today’s agenda?" the magenta pony asked, checking their schedule.

"We’ve had reports," Sato began without preamble, "that several groups of people wish to begin setting up small colonies of people in their old homelands."

Cheerilee frowned. "Is that possible?"

"The Barrier’s gone," Redmond said with a shrug, "and there’s a lot of empty space out there. Priority farmland is still up for grabs, and heck, it might alleviate some of the burden on the British Isles. God knows we wore these old rocks dry during the war."

"That being said, there are security issues," Sato said seriously. "There is a concern that the Converted colonists may prove… troublesome."

"The Converted aren’t still a problem, are they?" Cheerilee asked. Sato looked at Redmond, who sighed.

"We don’t know," he said. "Some of them are just plain unpredictable. Some of them are catatonic, some of them are ok but traumatised, and some of them don’t seem any different than before - fanatical loyalists to the Solaminan cause. We’ve had reports of skirmishes between maddened Convies and our troops all over the place."

"Great," Cheerilee sighed. "Alright. So what do we do about people wanting to go back home?"

"Best option as I see it," Redmond said, "is to send soldiers with the colonists. Establish secure bases, defensive positions and prioritise resource rich areas. Worry about spreading out another time: people'll be happy enough to be on home soil."

"Will they?" Sato asked. “Some of them may prefer to be on ground of their choosing.”

“Then they’ll have to learn to live with disappointment,” Redmond said with a scowl. “We can’t have a bunch of colonists going here, there and everywhere.”

"Are you sure they won’t resent the presence of the military?" Cheerilee asked.

"They might," Redmond shrugged, "but at this point we don't have a choice. If groups of two dozen people want to colonise what’s left of Washington, we simply can't afford to let them. That's two dozen viable, genetically diverse people who will be lost to us if we don't protect them in a bigger colonial territory."

"So we let them go, control where they go to prioritise resource areas, and we keep them guarded by soldiers," Cheerilee summed up. "All in favour?"

She raised a hoof. Both men raised their hands as well

"Aye," Sato said. "I agree."

"Settled," Redmond concluded.

"Good," Cheerilee said, smiling wearily. "I just hope it doesn't come back to bite us."

***

Canterlot Palace, September 14th, Year 0 of the New Free Equestrian Calendar (2030).

Prince Blueblood was not having a good day.

"What?" he asked the courier who had come to the Blood court (the informal name for Blueblood's court now that he had taken over governance of Equestria). The courier, a Night Guard soldier in midnight blue armour, coughed slightly, his lungs burning from exertion.

"Reports have reached the capital that there are secessionist cities still flying the Solaminan flag," he repeated. "I have reports that Las Pegasus and Manehatten have both declared themselves independent capitals of the New Solaminan Empire, with Princess Cadence declared their unofficial rallying flag."

Blueblood blinked, shocked. "Cadence?"

"The Princess is already en route, My Lord," the courier said, "though she sent a message ahead denying any part in this."

"Of that I have no doubt," Blueblood said, turning away from the courier and slumping into the throne. "Have we… have we received any demands?"

"None sir," the courier said. "Though there are reports of fighting in those areas as the Traitor Guard attempt to solidify their power base."

"Of course," Blueblood said quietly. "And here I thought the fighting was over." He took a deep breath. "Has word reached the Earth council yet?"

"We don't know," the courier said shortly.

"I see," Blueblood said quietly. "Please summon Captain Doo for me."

"At once my lord," the courier said, dashing off.

With the courier gone, Blueblood blew a whistle of frustration through his lips.

"This is all I need," he muttered. He had barely been on the throne three months now, and already there was talk of rebellion. It wasn't like he hadn't expected it: it was a sad thing but ponies tended to be resistant to change, but still, he had expected protest marches, not... more war.

"Blueblood?" a voice asked. Blueblood looked up, to see Cadence standing in the doorway of the room, Dinky behind her, frowning at her back.

"Princess Cadence," Blueblood said shortly. "Want to explain why ponies are wandering around causing trouble in your name?"

"I had nothing to do with them," Cadence protested. "They didn't so much as approach me."

"And yet they're supposedly running around using you as the rallying flag for Solaminan loyalists all across Equestria!" Blueblood snapped angrily. He paused, taking a breath. "Do you think the humans will continue to allow Equestria to manage its own affairs without guidance if this keeps up?"

"What do you mean?" Cadence asked, narrowing her eyes in confusion at this remark.

Blueblood sighed tiredly. "The only reason the Resistance was allowed to form its own Equestrian government, free from interference, was because the humans couldn't spare a single soldier to act as an occupation force and they trusted me. They've lost too much. They trusted me to keep order, and yet here we are."

"The rebels aren't anypony's fault," Cadence said, frowning. “They were always going to happen.”

"They're Solaminan loyalists, ostensibly loyal to an ally of the new Equestrian state," Blueblood said. "I'm not sure fault will come into it."

"What... what will the humans do?" Cadence asked.

"I don't know," Blueblood muttered. "I honestly don't. It depends how angry they are. This entire thing has left more than a few bitter people with a grudge against ponies, and while the Equestrian Resistance fighting and dying alongside them did something to quell those feelings, they aren't gone."

Cadence thought for a moment. She supposed she could understand the human perspective - actually, no, she could definitely understand it. But the idea of Equestria being occupied was… unpleasant.

“Is there another way?” she asked. “A way to appease the humans without having occupying armies running around?”

“I have no idea,” Blueblood said softly. He sighed and looked at Dinky. “Captain Doo, gather the Night Guard and any Royal Guard still loyal to us who haven’t taken leave. I fear we shall have to go to war again.”

“Yes, my liege,” Dinky said, nodding and saluting before dashing off.

“Do you have enough troops?” Cadence asked. “I can have Crystal Ponies come and assist.”

“That would be beneficial,” Blueblood said, sighing. “And you need to give a statement decrying these acts - otherwise they’ll keep using you as a rallying cry.”

“What about the humans?” Cadence asked.

“They’ll find out,” Blueblood sighed. “Sooner or later. When they do…”

He frowned, and then, impossibly, a smile appeared on his face.

“There is one way to prevent it from being as much of a problem,” he said quietly. Before Cadence could ask what he meant, he marched out, and she followed him, uncertain as to what he was planning on doing but not entirely certain she was going to like it.

***

Dead Men HQ, London, September 15th 2030.

What are the Dead without purpose? Manfred Stein found himself thinking as he sat behind a desk, going through reports. It was all well and good being Dead, but the war was over and it was difficult to maintain morale among the other Dead Men. Sure, there were Dead Men who were still on duty, guarding hither and thither as part of small groups, but their position as a technically independent military force within the BDF relied heavily on the BDF needing soldiers who were that willing to die, and now the BDF simply didn’t. Regular BDF were sufficient for most tasks.

Added to that was the lack of an Undead to lead the order. There was no precedent for replacing the leader of the Dead Men, since he had been the one who founded it, and Manfred - as one of the senior survivors after the battle, to his own surprise - wasn’t sure how to deal with the problem. He had been left in temporary control of the order by virtue of being one of the highest ranking survivors who hadn't left their order.

Some Dead Men or higher rank or higher seniority had left the Order, among others. Men like Kraber, Dupont, Thomason... now that the war was over, many seemed to think they could perhaps begin to live their lives again. Though Manfred could understand it, he couldn’t agree with it - they had all accepted that they were all dead, that all that was left was duty and purpose. Refusing that...

Still, there was something odd that had started happening. There had been an influx of new converts for the Dead Men, or rather, new Converted - the Converted, freed from Solamina's influence upon her death, had found themselves reliving a horrifying experience. Many of them felt, for want of a better term, empty... and in that emptiness, they had sought answers. They had sought purpose. The Dead Men offered that, ostensibly, though the lack of missions or real need for the Dead Men in the current army prevented these Converted from being entirely satisfied even with this life.

“Sir?” a voice called. He turned to see one of his men arrive, saluting as he did so. “We just got a message through. We’re to receive an important guest.”

“An important guest?” Stein repeated. “Who?”

Before the soldier could reply, a pony in Night Guard armour arrived - a lilac mare with blonde mane, a far sterner expression on her face than belonged on a mare that young by any rights. She stopped before Stein and nodded.

"Mr Stein," she said. "I understand you're the man to speak to?"

"Captain Dinky Doo," Stein said, nodding in return. "What brings you to the Dead Men's HQ?"

"War," Dinky Doo replied quietly. Manfred raised an eyebrow at this and leant forward in his chair.

"The war is over," he said quietly.

"Unfortunately," Doo said, "some ponies in Equestria don't want it to be."

Manfred nodded slowly. "Holdouts?"

"Of a sort," Doo said with a sigh. "There's all sorts of problems, problems that Prince Blueblood feels will make the Council... nervous." She lowered her head. "He is concerned that they will remove some of Equestria's... autonomy."

"Is that a possibility?" Manfred asked.

"We don't know," Dinky said. "But..."

There was a pause as she left her sentence hanging.

"But?" Manfred prompted.

"But Prince Blueblood is of the opinion that the reason Equestria retains the freedom it does is because of the fact that the Council trusted him to maintain order," she finished. "In lieu of that, he worries for Equestria's autonomy. Lingering Solaminan feelings will not be helped by the BDF occupying the streets, and frankly the BDF has more than a few individuals who... well, may not be discriminating should it come to conflict."

"I see your point," Manfred said, frowning. Truth be told, even he had felt anti-pony sentiment. He had seen Conversion firsthand.

Children ponified, foals whimpering as their human parents surrounded them. The wailing of women. Gunshots: one, two, three... reload, fire, fire, reload, aim... the crack of bones breaking, the tortured gaming of a woman as he forced the sealed bottle of potion down her throat, revenge for thirty little lives that she had ended...

"But I fail to see how I can help," he added.

"Well, that's the thing," Dinky said, a wry grin on her face. "You aren't BDF. You're technically independent."

"Technically," Manfred repeated. "But..."

"Besides which, a large number of ponies are with the Dead Men," Dinky said. "Seeing a unified pony and human force will alleviate the sense of there being a human occupation, and in fact increase a sense of unity between our species, and the human element will appease the Council's need for human military involvement in Equestrian affairs."

"The Dead Men are hardly an optimistic symbol," Manfred pointed out.

"True," Dinky said, "but the Dead Men are nationless, species-less. Your loyalty is to duty, correct?"

"Indeed," Manfred said.

"Then I think peacekeeping and cleanup makes for a good duty, don't you?" Dinky continued.

Manfred thought the idea through. It made sense, though he hated to admit it.

"Catch?" he asked.

"Apart from being in Equestria? None," Dinky said. "You'd answer to Prince Blueblood directly, since he's technically still the supreme commander of all military forces. I'd be your liaison with Night Guard and other Equestrian military."

Manfred sighed, leaning back in his chair and thinking about it. It would give the Dead Men new purpose now the war was over - and they desperately needed purpose. He knew it. Everyone knew it.

"Alright," he said finally. "Alright. We'll do it."

***