It had been a month since the end of the war, and Ice Breaker finally seemed to be cheering up a bit.

Andrew could hardly blame him for being depressed for so long. After all, when Equestria had disappeared, it had taken almost everything he'd known and cared about with it. His family. His friends. His fillyfriend. His home. Yes, they were all still alive and well somewhere, but by all appearances he would never see them again. What he had left was a world where, even now, a large portion of the people living there were suspicious of him. Worse, having lost his last bit of faith in the Equestrian royal family, he didn't feel like he belonged anywhere at all.

He'd been spending a lot of time with him lately. Naturally he wasn't the only depressed pony. The humans in the base were for the most part doing the best to console the ones they were closest to, and in Andrew's case that was Ice Breaker. He'd never been particularly close to any of the ponies, but over the weeks following Eddy's death, the two had been forming a tighter bond than Andrew had ever expected. This only strengthened after Equestria's disappearance.

When off-duty, they spent a lot of time together in the recreation center. Sometimes, they watched movies. While Andrew learned quickly that Ice Breaker, like Thunderhead, found little enjoyment in violent movies of the sort he used to watch with Eddy, they found a shared taste in comedies. In fact, he discovered that Ice Breaker had a surprising appreciation for lewd jokes. Other times, it was darts, or pool, or air hockey. Despite Andrew's initial misgivings, Ice Breaker's hooves proved remarkably dexterous, and he proved to be a surprisingly challenging opponent once Andrew gave him a chance.

Quite often, though, they just talked. Ice Breaker did not seem to want to bring up his own past, or Equestria, or anything of that nature, but that was understandable; talking about any of those would have been a painful reminder of the world that left him behind. Instead, they mostly talked about subjects such as Andrew's own life, the latest news concerning ponies left behind, movies, and video games (Andrew was quite disappointed to find he wasn't interested in trying them).

There was, however, a more interesting development in their relationship, one that had crept up on Andrew so subtly that he was able to avoid it for awhile. First he thought nothing of it, then he rationalized it, then he tried desperately to pretend it wasn't there.

Despite his best efforts, though, it found ways to slip through. Ice Breaker's great strength and gentle demeanor had grown on him, and he felt comfortable with and trusting of him in a deeply personal way that he never had with even his closest friends. More hugs had followed their first, and they became more and more frequent. It was never Andrew who initiated them, not wanting to draw suspicion, but he was always glad to accept them.

He couldn't deny it any longer; he was in love with Ice Breaker.

It made him uncomfortable. He'd known he was gay since he was a teenager, and had quite freely posted about it on his blog; that part wasn't the issue. But, to be in love with someone who wasn't even human? Yes, mentally Ice Breaker was essentially human. He talked. He appreciated art. He understood science. The species he was a part of had produced literature, music, poetry, architecture, engineering, philosophy, a scientific method, everything that marked them the mental equals of humans. Even so, there was no precedent here. Was it wrong? Even if it wasn't, he knew it wouldn't go over well if anyone found out.

For that matter, it was unlikely Ice Breaker would feel the same way. Yes, they'd grown close, but there was no real evidence that he had anything more than platonic feelings for Andrew. For that matter, he'd already heard the pony mention his fillyfriend; the odds that he would be bisexual, and open to interspecies love, and personally feel that way about him were slim.

Still, he had to find out.

Very early one morning, when the common room had long become vacant except for the two, there was a lull in the conversation. Ice Breaker had tired out some time ago and was now sprawled out across the couch, half-asleep with his face buried in the soft cushions. Andrew, meanwhile, was pacing nervously by the pool table, staring at the floor.

He'd been meaning to ask the question for the last fifteen minutes, but every time he tried to begin to speak, the words died in his throat. For hours, he'd planned exactly how he would say it, crafting dozens of carefully composed sequences of words only to reject each in a fit of panic. The realization that Ice Breaker looked like he'd fall asleep any minute, meaning Andrew would miss the chance, was what finally pushed him to action.

"Ice, uh, hypothetical here." The pony's ears perked up. "Do you ever think a human and a pony could be, uh...well...ehm..." Andrew cleared his throat. "...more than friends?" The three words ran together as if they were one.

Ice Breaker's body shifted to the side and his head whipped up, and he looked at Andrew with wide eyes.

"That's...uh...kind of sudden. Why do you ask?"

Andrew stopped walking and picked up a ball from the pool table, turning it over in his fingers. "Just wondering. Just wanted your opinion. I mean, now that the war's over, I think it could happen. Do you?"

With a yawn, Ice Breaker flipped over to a sitting position, looking up at Andrew with his head resting on the arm of the couch. "Well, actually, yeah. I mean, I wouldn't be that surprised. I mean, I know it's a weird thing for humans, but for us? It's not really common, but it's happened. Matter of fact, my own dad dated a gryphon once. So, uh..." Suddenly he looked down, closed his eyes, and sighed, reminded once again of the home he'd never see again.

The ball thumped back onto the pool table and Andrew looked at Ice Breaker in concern.

"I'm sorry, Ice. I didn't mean to."

Ice Breaker breathed heavily and swallowed, then lifted his head back up.

"Forget it. Not your fault. I was the one who brought up my dad, after all."

Andrew still looked guilty, so Ice Breaker smiled reassuringly. "Anyway, no, I wouldn't say you guys are off-limits."

Doing his best to keep a poker face, Andrew simply nodded. At the same time, though, he felt his heartbeat quicken both in hope and fear. He still had a chance, but he knew if he wanted to find out how Ice Breaker felt, he'd have to tell the truth. Grabbing blindly at the table he was leaning against, he once again picked up a pool ball. This time he flipped it back and forth between his hands.

"You know, I'm sorry, but there's something I didn't quite tell you. This was about more than just me being curious."

Ice Breaker blinked and flattened the bangs of his blonde mane with a hoof. "Y-you mean..." He smiled, looking more amused than anything else. "You're in love with a pony."

Andrew parted his hands a bit and began lightly tossing the ball between them. "Yeah. I, uh, I am."

Ice Breaker gave a short laugh. "Hey, don't worry, I'm fine with it! I already said so. And I'm not about to go around telling ponies, I know that'd create problems for you." He was sitting straight on the couch now, his full attention on Andrew. "So, who's the mare? Quantum Leap? Flitter Dance? Somepony off-base?" He stopped, noticing Andrew shifting uncomfortably. "Sorry, sorry. I just got kind of curious, you know? Please don't feel like you have to answer that."

Andrew stopped tossing the pool ball between his hands, and gripped it tightly in his right. "It's not a mare."

Ice Breaker blinked. "But you said...oh!" He chuckled. "Well, I can see why you were nervous about this, I know how some humans can be about that kind of thing. Now I'm even more curious about who it is, though. I can't really think of any stallions you've spent much time with, except..." He trailed off, then gasped.

"...Me?"

The ball fell to the floor with a thump, and Andrew nodded almost imperceptibly. He was now looking at Ice Breaker hopefully, almost pleadingly. Much to his dismay, though, he turned his head away a bit and began to stammer.

"L-look, I'm flattered, Andy. Really, I don't know what to say." He grinned sheepishly. "But, I, uh, I...oh, I'm sorry about this, but I don't feel the same way." Andrew slumped against the table a bit, and Ice Breaker frowned sympathetically. " I mean, I know we're close, but we're..." Unable to ignore the disappointment on Andrew's face, he hopped off of the couch and began walking towards him.

"Friends. You're a friend, Andy. A close one, but still a friend. It's nothing personal. I'm just only into mares."

Andrew was staring at the floor at this point, his disappointment and sadness now seemingly joined by shame, and thus failed to notice that Ice Breaker was now standing directly in front of him.

"Here. Look at me."

Andrew did so, although he hesitated slightly before he was able to meet Ice Breaker's vivid green eyes. Then, in a sudden and familiar movement, the pony reared up on his hindlegs and fell into him with a hug. Standing on two legs, he could look Andrew in the eyes without having to crane up his neck. He was smiling at Andrew reassuringly, and a little sadly.

"I know it was hard to tell me, and I'm sorry I had to turn you down. I don't want it to ruin our friendship, though. I'm glad you trusted me with this."

Andrew swallowed and let his head rest on the pony's shoulder.

"Thanks, Ice."

He hugged Ice Breaker back, and for a minute they just stood quietly, Andrew relaxing in the feelings of the pony's warm, comfortable weight pressing against him and the slow, steady rising and falling of his chest as he breathed.

There, in the soft glow of the LEDs and the quiet humming of the machines, it was peaceful. Andrew was the sort of strange person who enjoyed the atmosphere of the early morning, when sunrise was still hours away, and he was glad Ice Breaker did too. As far as he knew, the pair were the only ones still up at this hour, aside from Quantum Leap, who tended to put in late nights at the lab. Eddy would have still been up too, had he not been ponified; Thunderhead was down at eleven and up at seven.

Thinking about Quantum Leap and Eddy, something occurred to him. It was unlikely, yes, but it was something he needed to ask about, something that gave him hope. If magic had rewired Eddy's brain one way, then maybe, just maybe...

Reluctantly, he pushed at Ice Breaker a bit. He wasn't strong enough to budge him, but he got the idea, letting go of Andrew and dropped back to all fours.

"Heading out, Andrew?"

"Yeah, not to bed though. I need to ask Leap about something."

"All right, I'm going to bed myself, so I'll see you tomorrow, then." He glanced at the clock. "Uh...or rather, later today, I guess." Andrew nodded and left.

A few minutes later, he had bundled himself in his winter gear and stepped out of his housing building, shivering at the stinging of the icy wind against what little skin he had exposed. Slowly, in the cold, eerie silence of the Antarctic night, he made his way over to the building of the Clean Air Sector Laboratory, guided only by the sickly yellow light from the few lamps that dotted the compound.

The trek to CASLab was long, dark, and quiet. The lab was located a full kilometer away from the rest of the compound, a measure to ensure no emissions from the base contaminated its air samples. Ice Breaker actually visited it fairly often, regularly hauling supplies there because no air pollution, and thus no motorized transport, was permitted. Andrew wished he'd thought to ask Ice Breaker a bit more about his time there.

Finally he reached the base of CASLab. The white, metal building sat well over his head, supported by tall, steel stilts. An adjacent staircase was next to him, and cold, white light flooded out of the building's window on the same side. His heavy boots rattled loudly against the stairs as he ascended them, and he realized that Quantum Leap would probably hear him coming well before he ever knocked. Sure enough, barely halfway up the stairs, he saw movement in the window. The door creaked open a few seconds later.

"Kendrick?"

Andrew looked up at Quantum Leap, who was standing in the doorway. Upon seeing his face, she blinked.

"Sorry, thought you were someone else. Ehm...why are you here, though? And at this time? I hope you didn't waste a trip, because everything's working fine in here."

"Leap, I need to talk to you about something. Please. I know it's late, but it's important."

She looked a bit taken aback, but didn't refuse. "Uh, sure. Come in."

Andrew thanked her, scaled the rest of the steps, and went through the external door and entered the main laboratory room. It was cramped and crowded, split into sections by aluminum shelving packed with computers, monitors, measurement devices, and other advanced electronic equipment. Many of them were connected to each other by bundles of black and white cords that snaked among and between the shelves. Quantum Leap was seated on all four hooves in a swivel chair in front of a computer, the hairs of her short, straight tail trailing off the side. The mouse glowed blue as she hastily clicked a few buttons, shuffling windows around. Then she turned to face him.

"You should come by more often." She laughed. "I mean, we're coworkers, but I barely know you. And now that our Princesses bailed on us, you guys are the only ones I've got, you know?" She turned away from him to swallow some of her coffee before turning back. "Uh, look, never mind. What was it you wanted to talk about?"

Despite his concern, Andrew didn't want to press her if she didn't want to talk about it. "Leap, is there any way you can...cure Eddy? To bring his mind back to normal? Some sort of magic, or potion, or...hell, I don't know how that stuff works. But can it happen?"

For a minute, Quantum Leap didn't say anything. She just drew herself tighter on her chair and tucked her tail beneath her, then levitated her coffee cup and drank from it. Finally, cup still hanging in the air, she spoke.

"Andrew..." She shook her head. "I hate to be the one to tell you this, but no. Eddy, as you knew him, is gone. I wouldn't even be the right pony to ask, anyway - I'm not an alchemist or neuroscientist, I'm a climatologist. I study air samples and ice cores. I did learn as much as I could about the potion after Firebrand let the truth slip, though, because I had the same idea you did." She paused.

"And knowing what I do now, even if I could bring him back, I wouldn't."

Andrew felt as if he'd just been electrically shocked. What was she saying? Why? Why wouldn't she bring Eddy back? He thought she was on his side! Was she just trying to anger him? Had she swallowed PER's propaganda?

Quantum Leap had not missed the incredulous look on his face. "Please, I need you to let me finish," she said coolly. "I'm warning you now, you won't like what you're about to hear. Hate me if you want when I'm done, but you need to at least know what really happened to him."

Andrew felt a chill creep up his spine. In all truth, it was a question he didn't think he wanted the answer to. Ever since he'd first talked to Thunderhead after he climbed off of the operating table, he knew there was something fundamentally, skin-crawlingly wrong with the Potion. Through some bizarre process beyond the ability of biology, psychology, or medicine to explain, it had almost instantly altered his thinking in a way that would require weeks or months of concentrated effort and total control from an expert human psychologist.

"Tell me everything."

"When a human takes the potion, it doesn't change their personality. Their way of thinking isn't altered. They don't undergo any sort of brainwashing." She took a deep breath.

"The original personality is destroyed almost completely, and a new one, one that's been configured into the potion, is written into the mind of the pony that emerges. Skills that the human acquired are kept - that's why Thunderhead is still able to work in the garage.

"The most important thing that's preserved, though, is conscious memory. The pony receives all of the factual knowledge, memories of lifetime events, and learned skills that the human had. That's why they come into the world thinking those they've never really met are their friends. That's why, sometimes, the potion can fool people who knew the human. It's also why the pony is baffled by the reactions of people around him - they'll never be able to grasp that they're a different person. Their memories fool them into thinking that they're the one who went in.

"Now, if we brought back Eddy, where would Thunderhead's mind go? Fact is, there's nowhere it can go, Andrew. If we restored Eddy's mind, Thunderhead would die. That's why I wouldn't do it. He came into the world on Eddy's death, but I'm sure we both agree that doesn't make him any less of a person. If we kill the pony to make a human, we're no better than the Princesses."

For a moment, Andrew just stood silently as, thanks to Quantum Leap's words, it dawned on him just what he had done. In his anger and sadness, he'd neglected to consider how Thunderhead felt. He'd failed to realize the depths of just how much he must be hurting, how heartbroken he must be by people his memories told him were his closest friends rejecting him for reasons he could never understand.

He hastily thanked her, rushed out of the building, scrambled down the stairs, and stomped through the snow on his way back to his residence building. He needed time alone. Time to stew in his guilt. Time to decide how he would finally right his many wrongs against Thunderhead.

Ten hours later, shortly after lunch, Andrew found Thunderhead in the otherwise-vacant cafeteria. He was staring down at the remnants of his salad with his front hooves on the table, but looked up at him when he came in. He seemed confused, and Andrew didn't blame him. After all, he'd been avoiding him ever since their conversation after Nurse Tendertouch had released him from the infirmary.

"Hey, can we talk for a minute?" He was still in the doorway.

"A-Andrew?"

He nodded. "Yeah, me. Isn't Ice Breaker usually with you?"

"Couldn't make it today, he's been busy. It's a shame, I like him. He's nice to me."

"Sorry to hear that. I don't suppose you'll settle for me?"

"Thanks, but...I thought you never wanted to see me again? That's what you told me that day."

Andrew cringed. "Actually, that's what I wanted to talk about. I came here because...because I'm sorry."

Thunderhead let his hooves drop from the table. "You...you mean..."

"Yeah. I'm sorry for...for the way I treated you, and how I shunned you." He walked over to the end of the table opposite the one Thunderhead was sitting at and eased himself onto the bench, as far away from the pony as possible. "It was wrong. I was so worried about how I'd deal with it, I never even thought about how you felt."

"And, that whole thing about me being dead? You know I'm the same old Eddy, right? I mean, just because I look a bit different, and I have better habits, that doesn't mean I'm not the same person. Don't you agree." His tone was pleading.

The next part would be the hardest. After all, Andrew had never been a good liar.

"Yeah. I just...I just got scared and overreacted. You may be Thunderhead now, but..." He swallowed. "...But you're still Eddy to me. You j-just look different, and think a bit different. That's all."

He'd seen Thunderhead cry before, of course, and it had been painful to see every time. It had held in it the agony and misery of a confused, naive soul who had been abandoned by all those he had felt close to. Only the comfort provided by Ice Breaker and Flitter Dance had been able to relieve it at all, and never for very long.

This time was different, though. This time, beneath the tears spilling from his eyes and onto the table, there was a smile. He could worry about getting the others in the base to play along later; for now, Thunderhead needed him there.

Andrew's deed had more significance than he ever knew; it was the first time in his short life that Thunderhead was truly happy.

The video opened to a midday bird's-eye view of an aircraft carrier and its escort group out on the open sea. A woman's voiceover began.

"Three months after the disappearance of Equestria, all military forces are still on full alert for any sign of its reemergence. Officials say that there is currently no reason to believe that it is still a threat, but since its inhabitants are capable of using the recently-discovered and ill-understood force they call 'magic,' we must be prepared for anything."

The video cut to a solidly built, snowy-haired man standing at a podium on a stage emblazoned with American flags, giving a speech.

"In yesterday's state of the union address, United States president John McCormick expressed hope that the Equestria War would give him the popular support he needed to increase the national defense budget and to prepare a large number of reserve troops."

The voiceover faded out, and the president's words faded in.

"The Equestrian crown accused us of being expansionist, of being militarist, and of ruthlessly exploiting resources. Even if we are guilty of these, as they claim, it is for these exact reasons that we were able to survive their incursion. We now know that we are not alone in the universe, and that there is in fact at least one hostile entity out there. We don't know what other life there is, or what plans it has for us, or if Equestria will return. We have to be prepared to fight for our survival. We have to be ready for anything."

The speech faded out, and the voiceover faded back in.

"The president's sentiments appear to be popular, and with his approval rating leaping from forty percent to nearly eighty percent over the course of the war, it's quite possible the new plan will come to pass. Nations the world over, meanwhile, are also significantly increasing their defense budgets. This has been the cause of public outcry, particularly within the European Union, where analysis of the budgets reveals that many of them will be funding the military with money taken from such programs as public healthcare, education, and environmental protection."

The video cut to a forest green, bespectacled unicorn at a wide, metal reception desk in a sterile, gray room, idly typing on a computer and shuffling papers with his horn.

"Meanwhile, the several thousand ponies left behind, along with the roughly eight hundred newfoals, remain a subject of international debate. U.S. diplomat Ellen Rowe continues to push a resolution that would declare Equestrian ponies as humans for all legal purposes, with voting scheduled to take place a week from today. Opinion on the ponies continues to vary wildly between and within countries, and it's hoped that passing this bill will eventually lead to them finding employment in weather control and other, similar specialized areas, allowing them to integrate into society.

"Many countries, including the United States, Australia, Canada, and much of Europe, have begun granting citizenship to some ponies. Their popular opinion continues to grow, as evidenced by the strong support received by the HSR's 'ponies left behind' campaign, which has garnered strong sympathy for the ponies abandoned here by Celestia. Despite this, they still face fear and mistrust."

The video cut to a series of people giving brief opinions on the matter.

An elderly woman from San Jose, California: "I'll tell you, they're the nicest neighbors I ever had."

A young man from Sheffield, England: "Are you kidding? After what they've done? I want 'em out, all of 'em."

A dark-skinned man from Perth, Australia: "I work in the outback and I've had an earth pony as a partner there, and I'd trust her with my life."

A middle-aged man from Toronto, Canada: "I don't care what they do with 'em, but I don't want 'em here."

The video cut to a thrashing, scowling indigo pegasus being dragged into a helicopter by black-suited agents, wings bound to his sides.

"We get to end the announcement on good news today. After nearly four months of searching, an Interpol raid on a PER compound hidden in the jungles of Brazil led to the capture of a high-ranking member of the organization, Rolling Thunder. With their activities spreading as far north as Costa Rica and claiming nearly a hundred victims to date, it's hoped that the capture of Thunder will be a major step towards ending the terror.

"PER activity has also been a major motivator in the continued internment of ponies in many parts of South America despite the end of the war, something which has been the subject of increasing international criticism. To date, less than ten percent of the interned ponies have been released despite mounting international pressure to do so."

"Evening, they're gonna start boarding soon."

Evening Star blinked, removed her headphones, and hopped off of her chair. She'd lost track of time again, endlessly poring over news blogs and update videos as she tried to get every last scrap of information on the current situation. The difference was that now she was doing it in an internet cafe in Brasilia International Airport.

"Oh...all right. Irene's ready, then?" she asked Antonio.

He nodded. "At the terminal, yeah. She keeps looking at the clock." Noticing her looking at him a bit sadly, he asked, "You're...you're not regretting this, are you? I mean, we talked it over-"

"No, I know it's for the best," she said with a sigh. "I know they're not rounding us up any more, but Brazil's still hardly pony-friendly. Three months after the fact and I'm still afraid to leave our apartment without you, or go anywhere that isn't a public place, or do anything not in broad daylight. We don't know when it'll get any better, either."

Antonio nodded understandingly. "Well, there's some good news, at least. At Mass last week, I found out my priest doesn't say you guys are demons anymore," he said, trying to lighten the mood.

"Oh? What's he saying about us now?" She'd always found human religion to be an odd thing, the idea of believing in and worshiping gods that couldn't physically be seen. She couldn't blame them even when she was still loyal to the Crown, though - they had no Celestia or Luna. She certainly sympathized with them now that she knew her faith in the Sisters had been misplaced.

"Well, ah, he really doesn't know what to make of you, but he says he doesn't think you're beyond redemption. He says you were all just unwitting minions of Celestia, who he says is the Antichrist. Long story short, he wants you all to become Catholic."

Evening Star rolled her eyes. "Well, I guess it's an improvement. Not that I disagree with him on Celestia."

Antonio looked away. "Yeah...sorry about that. I mean, I know it hasn't been easy on you, and I know it was really disappointing things didn't get much better after the war was over. I've been doing my best to give you a chance to get outside, but it's still too risky most of the time."

"This isn't your fault," Evening Star said matter-of-factly. "Really, you're pretty much the last pony to blame here. I know it wasn't always easy, or fun, but you've kept me alive and safe for months. And of course, you paid to transport me here."

Evening Star reached over to the computer desk, delicately balanced the cola can she'd been drinking from in her hooves, and took a gulp from it. She fervently wished she could use her horn, but she knew doing so would likely get her in trouble with airport security.

"Thank you, Antonio."

Antonio nodded again. "Just paying you back. Remember, you saved my ass once."

Evening Star couldn't help but laugh. "It seems like it was so long ago, doesn't it? Hard to believe it's only been a few months. I can't believe how much has happened since then."

They started walking down to the terminal, and Evening Star was once again captivated by the sights around her. The hustle and bustle as commuters scurried to and from the terminals, the sleek steel and glass of the airport wide and sweeping arched walls, the echoing announcements of departures and arrivals, and the enticing smell of coffee from the nearby shops were all a bit overwhelming to her after the long, cramped, quiet days in Antonio's apartment.

"I know what you mean. At the same time, though, it doesn't really feel like it's been long enough. Like...the plane's coming, you'll be in Miami soon, heading to your new home upstate. Even though we spent the last two months coordinating this with Irene, it all feels so sudden."

Evening Star smiled up at him. "I'll miss you too. And Nico, of course."

"Damn shame he couldn't come to see you off, but the money for a third person wasn't there."

Evening Star's eyes wandered to a nearby vending machine as they passed it - she'd fallen in love with the devices as soon as she'd first learned what they did.

"I know, and I understand. I wish I could've seen him again, though. You and him, now that Celestia's left me behind - not that I miss her, or that sister of hers - you two are the only ones I have. And Irene, of course, but I only met her in person earlier today."

Antonio knew that all too well. For the first few days after the disappearance of Equestria, very little could even get her off of the couch she slept on. When she talked, it was mostly about the things she missed from home, and in great detail - everything from her best friend she'd met in her theater company to her favorite ice cream shop back in Manehattan.

"You know, I wish my little sister were here to see this."

Antonio blinked. "The way you talked about her, it always sounded like you hated her."

"I did." Her head dipped. "Then I found out I'd never see her again."

They rounded a corner, beyond which was the entrance to their terminal. In front of the odd, hollow-bottomed seats in which most of the passengers were sitting, a petite, brunette young woman paced back and forth anxiously in front of the terminal's seating. Upon seeing the two, she ran over to them, relief visible on her face.

"Good, you're here. Evening, I'll show them your boarding pass for you, we don't want you in trouble for using your magic."

Evening Star nodded. "Sorry Irene, I realize I was probably cutting it a bit close there. I'm here now, that's what's important, right?" She grinned.

"Yeah, don't worry about it," Irene said. "Didn't want you to miss the flight, that's all. I mean, it still looks like we've got a few minutes, but after all this planning, I don't really feel like taking risks."

"I can't really blame you. I know this was a lot of work, so, uh, thanks for doing all this. I mean, for some out-of-work actress you met on the internet?" She laughed.

"That's what we do in the HSR." She checked her watch. "Besides, I've been a fan of your blog pretty much since the beginning. You're just like us, you know, working as hard as you can to make things better between ponies and humans."

"Guess online fame does have its advantages. Aside from the ego boost, of course."

Evening Star turned to Antonio, who was gazing out of the wall-covering window on the opposite side of the room, staring distantly at the broad, sun-baked tarmac below.

"Well...guess this is goodbye, then." The amount of sadness that found its way into her voice caught her by surprise.

"Looks that way." Antonio looked back at her. "Good luck in the United States, Evening. Hope they treat you better there."

The announcement came over the intercom; it was time for them to board. The three hastily said their last goodbyes to each other before Irene disappeared into the knot of people who were quickly swarming the departure gate while fumbling with their bags and digging out their tickets, followed closely by Evening Star.

Antonio stood there, watching the pair as they moved through the line. It was all moving too fast; each passenger was admitted to the plan and passed through the entryway quickly, and the pair was drawing nearer and nearer to the fated moment when Evening Star, too, would be gone. Soon, Irene was showing the guard their boarding passes (with a quick, added reassurance of "she's with me"), then just a moment later Evening Star was slipping into the connector between the airplane and the terminal, taking one last look at him before disappearing from view.

"I'm sorry, I really wish I could, but I'm deployed here in Johannesburg. Yeah, don't worry, I'll send you the money when I get paid. Love you too, Mom. Bye."

The payphone clicked back onto its hook, and Russell shook his head. He'd always known, intellectually, that the defeat of Equestria wouldn't be the end of his nation's troubles. Even so, it was disheartening to see it all on the verge of collapse just three months after the war was over.

Yes, South Africa had its land back, but the infrastructure was gone. There were no more homes, roads, schools, or hospitals in the areas that the barrier had eaten, save for some scattered, abandoned pony villages that wouldn't be able to house more than a few thousand between them. Every human structure west of the Namibia border had been erased, and the government struggled just to keep alive the millions of refugees that had poured into the east.

Even with the very welcome relief of international aid from multiple countries, the endless sea of four million displaced people - one out of every ten in the country - was proving impossible to provide for. Russell's post-war duty as a supply truck driver had taken him to Johannesburg's camp many times, and he had become numb to the endless fields of tin shacks outside the city, the relief workers passing out meager bags of grain or water to desperate, skeletal figures (and running out far too quickly), and the daily sight of soldiers hauling off the corpses of those who had perished to disease or starvation.

His eyes swept over the small, dingy cafe he had just eaten lunch in and placed his call from; none of the other patrons met them. It had been the same everywhere he went when he was off-duty, and he didn't like it. Never mind that he was every bit as unassuming as he had been before he joined the military - Johannesburg was under martial law, and his army uniform marked him as someone to be feared. He didn't know what the situation was elsewhere, but he didn't imagine it was any better. He hadn't seen Pieter since redeploying to Johannesburg, and he had the sickening feeling that the man was enjoying it all.

Pieter was an unwelcome memory. Thinking of Pieter brought him back to that harrowing day, where he had choked on mud as he saw his fellow conscripts cut down all around him by bizarre alien weaponry, where he had come within a hair's breadth of dying right alongside them. Pieter was the man so eager to kill and who ridiculed Russell for not feeling the same way, the man who gleefully dismembered a dead unicorn and kept his horn as a trophy, still grinning wickedly when the columns of tanks had come to take the burden of fighting off their shoulders. All of this would have been bearable, had Pieter not also been the man who had saved his life.

He glanced up at the analog clock on the wall, numbers and hands barely visible beneath the stale, yellow grime that coated it, and saw that it was ten minutes to one. He decided to head back to his truck, not wanting to be late for his next delivery. After all, supplies were stretched thin enough as it was.

With a push, the stubborn, rickety door of the cafe creaked open, and he stepped outside, into the cool June air, very thankful that winter had recently arrived. Having worked in a sweltering back room as a file clerk before the war, he knew just how unbearable South African summer days could be, and he didn't cherish the thought of driving a truck around all day in one. Of course, the way things were going, he probably would in a few months anyway.

Johannesburg itself had not been difficult to adjust to - in fact, it was comfortingly similar to Cape Town. Rivers of cars and buses snaked between the high-rise apartments and offices, commuters weaved their way through crowds as they entered and left their workplaces, plazas brimmed with people relaxing and enjoying their meals, and leafy green trees dotted the cityscape and added color to it. He'd actually thought of staying there after his time in the army was over.

He turned right and began walking. The sidewalk was crowded with civilians at this time of day, and they all swiftly moved aside when he neared them. Shortly after he crossed the street to the next block, he heard a commotion from a grocery store in front of him that drowned out the constant background noise and bustle of the city. He was stopped dead in his tracks when a pair of lean, ragged young men stumbled out of the door, dropping armfuls of canned food onto the sidewalk and raising their hands above their heads, pursued closely by a trio of shouting, rifle-wielding soldiers whose appearance caused the many baffled onlookers to scatter.

He stepped around the scene as quickly as he could, moving into the street in doing so, but grim curiosity found him turning back around to watch it play out. All of them were trying to shout over each other, the soldiers barking at the young men that they were under arrest for looting, the young men pleading fruitlessly that they were starving and had no choice.

Suddenly one of them, gripped by fear, tried to run in Russell's direction; a swift rifle butt to his back made him fall to the pavement, and the soldier responsible reached down, grabbed his shirt by the neck, and yanked him to his feet. He looked at Russell pleadingly, but Russell could only shake his head and turn away, having long grown hopelessly accustomed to such sights. After what he'd seen in the refugee camps, he couldn't blame the boy, but he had no power to stop what was happening.

"Excuse me! Sir! Sir! If I can have a minute of your time?"

The stranger had come up from Russell's left and nearly collided with him when he ran up beside him. It was surprising, to say the least, to see someone in a white t-shirt and jeans so eager to talk to a uniformed army member. Then he saw the black pamphlets in his hand.

"Human Liberation Front?" he asked flatly, hoping the man would realize he was uninterested.

The man nodded. "Ah, good, you've heard of us. Joined up yet?"

"No, and I'm not-"

"Okay, if you can wait here, I'll get you the paper-"

"-And I'm not going to."

The man blinked. "But wait, you're in the military, you sure?"

"I don't do politics, and even if I did, they wouldn't be my kind of party."

He'd read the pamphlets, of course, and nothing about the HLF's rhetoric had appealed to him - in fact, it made him very glad that there hadn't been ponies in South Africa since their deportation before the war. The pamphlets had, rather ominously, called for "the total neutralization of the pony threat" and stated that South Africa's government had "proven to be weak," with the country "only surviving through the strength of its military," which it said needed to "cement its power, so that no pony will remain safe to plot humanity's downfall."

His gut told him it was nothing he wanted to be a part of. He'd been lucky enough to be born after the end of Apartheid, but he'd heard about its horrors from his father. He didn't want it returning to South Africa, even if he wouldn't be in the targeted group this time. Equestria was gone; he just wanted his country safe and back on its feet, he didn't care for revenge.

Unfortunately, he was in a shrinking minority. Every day, it seemed, the HLF had more presence. More people on street corners shouting anti-pony slogans through bullhorns. More flyers plastered on telephone poles and store fronts. More people, civilian and soldier alike, espousing their views. He decided then and there he wouldn't become one of them.

"Wait, were you just a reserve soldier during the war, or what? Listen, I'm sure you would've felt differently if you were from Cape Town, or if you'd faced them yourself. The HLF can finish off the ponies once and for all, we can make South Africa strong again. Trust me, you guys in the army will get a very good deal from us. I'll get the paperwork, you can sign, we'll be done. Sound good?"

Russell glared at him. "As a matter of fact, I am from Cape Town. I was one of the people drafted from the camps. I was right there on the frontline when we were taking the country back. I ran from the barrier, I starved in a refugee camp, I fought the Royal Guard and I saw men bleed and die, and you know what? I don't care what happens to the rest of the ponies, I just want my country back the way it was."

"Sir? We stand for South Africa, and we stand for the human race. I don't care what you saw or what you did, the rest of the ponies are still a threat, and they will be unless we take action. If you're not with us on that, you're a traitor to humani-"

"Piss off before I have you hauled off for getting in the army's way."

The man's smile slid off his face, and he swiftly broke away from Russell to walk rather quickly in the opposite direction.

God help him, he was becoming a jackboot.

Next Chapter: Aftermath, Part II (Prose) Estimated time remaining: 14 Minutes