Chapter 8: Inferno

From the bridge of the HMS Voyager, Twilight has a clear view of the battle raging within Canterlot. The airship was currently approaching the outskirts of the city, the crimson and gold glow of the fires set by artillery fire casting a surreal glow over the landscape; the occasional bright flash of a shell landing or a building exploding sears the image into Twilight’s brain.

It had taken them three and a half hours to gather together enough volunteers, and an hour more after that for the full force of the Cloudsdale Airguard, and the Equestrian Airship fleet, led by Captain Cafée Noire, had been a been able to off-load its humanitarian supplies, and load the required munitions and battle supplies.

“Captain, we’re nearing the landing zone for group one,” an earthy-brown pegasus states, coming up to stand beside Captain Noire and Twilight.

“Thank you, Commander Coal Feather,” Noire replies, her eyes fixated upon the flame-wreathed image of Canterlot. “Prep the Marines and inform Dame Applejack, and Dame Pinkie Pie that their part of the plan is about to be put into effect.”

“Aye, Captain,” Coal salutes, turning to go about his turies. He stops when Twilight speaks up for the first time since they had cast off.

“Have we gotten any word from Canterlot?” Twilight asks, breaking her own fixated stare at the city to look to the Commander. “Any word from the Castle?”

“No, ma’am,” Coal sighs, looking towards entrance to the radio nest. “We’re getting mostly static and intermittent transmissions, they’re likely not using a very powerful antenna. We won’t get a clear transmission until we’re closer to the city.” He turns back to the Princess, looking unsure. “May I return to my duties, Princess Twilight?”

“You may, Commander,” Twilight consents, turning back to staring at the flaming city.

As they draw closer to the large clearing a mile from Canterlot’s walls, the bridge becomes a hive of activity, nopony talking as they go about their assigned duties. Before long, they touch down, the deck beneath Twilight’s hooves jolting beneath her.

She watches few smaller transport airships touching down beside them. Twilight watches impassively as the ramps on the transports lower, and a collection of Air Guard and Royal Guards from Cloudsdale stream out and form ranks. Absently, she wonders on the sour feeling forming in the pit of her stomach, mixing with the butterflies that had been doing their best to break out of the same place for hours now. Is this how Celestia and Luna felt during their first major military engagement?

“Looks like your friends are marshalling their troops,” Noire comments from beside Twilight, drawing the alicorn’s attention back to the troops outside.

AJ stands in front of the troops, with Pinkie Pie bouncing around as is her want. Distantly, Twilight’s thoughts turn once more to the battle, this time consumed by how different they look in their armor -- AJ wearing a set of scalemail along with her hat, Pinkie a set of darkened leather and a hood with goggles -- which Twilight finds at odds with how she has come to view her friends. As she thinks over how different the times are, Thunderlane lands beside AJ and scratches at the collar of his armored reserve uniform.

Shaking her head, Twilight turns and heads away from the observation window of the bridge, and past the navigational station. She stops near the Captain’s chair, which is currently empty as Noire stands near the window. Facing the back wall, Twilight tries to distance herself from the situation her friends are about to find themselves in.

“It is difficult, is it not,” an analytical voice speaks from one side of the bridge, “sending your friends into combat.”

“It is,” Twilight states with a sigh. She doesn’t look over at the owner of the voice, but from the low-level magical energy emanating from the area of the speaker, she can tell it’s the strange pseudo-alicorn she had met upon boarding. “I worry for them. We’re not soldiers!”

“Why? Have you and your friends not fought against odds such as these before?” The pseudo-alicorn asks, coming to stand in front of Twilight, her magi-tech eyes focusing on Twilight’s face. “Are you not warriors in your own way? You all wield power beyond the normal pony, and have faced creatures that would make many more experienced warriors tremble in fear.”

“We had no choice in those situations, Dee-Seven” Twilight offers, attempting to look anywhere but at the enhanced pony’s eyes. She settles on staring at the stump of metal that makes up the once earth pony’s ‘horn’. “If we didn’t stand firm, Equestria would have been in mortal danger.”

“Curious,” Dee-Seven muses, the ghost of a smile on her face. “You place little value upon your actions, declaring you are not a warrior in one sentence. Yet, in the next, you all but say you and your friends are often the bulwark between Equestria and danger.”

Twilight opens her mouth to offer a retort, but a chuckle beside her pulls her attention away towards the captain’s chair.

“Dee, stop tormenting the Princess,” Noire says as she settles into her chair. “She’s not used to military operations, unlike us.” She smiles up at Twilight and indicates the place beside her chair. “Please, Princess, we’re about to take off again. It’ll be a few minutes until we reach the city.”

“Of course, Captain,” Dee-Seven agrees as she walks over to a large table with maps tacked to its surface. She taps a hoof against the table’s surface, causing a light to come to life beneath the tabletop.

Turning and sitting down beside the captain’s chair, Twilight considers how natural Dee-Seven looks at her position on the bridge, if only to keep her mind off of the looming battle before her. She knows nothing about how the earth pony standing behind her and Captain Noire got to be the way she is, and if she didn’t have more pressing matters, Twilight could see herself pulling Dee-Seven aside and asking her about it, perhaps learning a thing or two about the processes involved in medical prosthesis.

It might give her some more common ground upon which she and Witching Hour cou-

“Captain, I’m getting a signal from inside the city!” a tan earth pony speaks up from the dedicated radio station on the side of the bridge. He frowns and looks to the Captain. “And you’re not going to believe who’s talking.”

“Oh?” Noire chuckles, raising an eyebrow. “Put it on the overhead, Ensign Knight.” The earth pony nods and flips a switch, the sharp crackle of static followed by a voice.

“This is Castle Command,” the voice over the radio declares. “We are broadcasting on local frequencies. Any RAF forces in the vicinity of Canterlot, we require immediate reinforcement to repel a large scale incursion. Multiple districts have fallen to hostile forces, and casualties are mounting.”

“This is HMS Voyager,” Noire speaks up, small smile on her face. “We’ve got Princess Twilight aboard, and are leading a relief fleet of ships comprised of REN and CAG forces.”

For a long moment the comms are silent except for the crackle of the static. Ensign Knight turns a few dials on his radio station while holding one headphone cup to an ear.

“Castle Command, are you still -” Knight asks, but is quickly cut off.

“Voyager? NOIRE!?” the voice shouts, causing a large amount of feedback which makes everyone folds their ears back. “Of course it’d be YOU!”

“Nice to hear from you too, Yearling,” Noire coughs, rubbing an ear. “Just as boisterous and enthusiastic as last time we talked.”

“Hey, I don’t care what you say, that thing belonged in a museum!” Yearling grumbles.

“We can argue about that later, Yearling,” Noire continues. “I need to talk to your commanding officer, the Airguard said there should be a Command Sergeant there?”

“Sorry, Noire,” Yearling replies, and Twilight can almost hear the frown. “I’m the highest ranking Reservist in the city currently. I have operational command.”

Noire blinks a few times, her expression unreadable. “How the hay did that happen?”

“Oh, well, I crawled on my belly up to Luna,” Yearling sighs, the hoof waving and sarcastic grin are almost over-implied by her tone. “And kissed her flank until she gave me the position.”

“Really?” Noire asks, a slight frown on her face as she rolls her eyes.

“NO! Everypony else above me is DEAD, Noire! DEAD!” Yearling declares loudly, causing another feedback spike. “Do you think I wanted command?”

“No. I doubt it,” Noire sighs.

“You bet every single cup of coffee in Equestria!” Yearling replies. “I don’t want this command. So, you need to get your flank in here befo-” the transmission cuts out suddenly to loud static, and in the distance a bright flash comes from the direction of the city, followed by a resounding explosion that buffets against the airship, nearly tossing it from the air as it tries to gain altitude.

“Status report!” Noire shouts, gripping her chair as Twilight tumbles against it. “Was the castle hit by something?”

“Negative, Captain,” Dee-Seven speaks up from behind Twilight and Noire. “If I am reading this map correctly, that blast came from an area near one of the magi-tech power stations.”

“Perhaps an artillery shell hit it?” Ensign Knight ventures absently as he fiddles with some dials on his radio station. “Captain, reports are coming in from some of the airships at higher altitude. The fire from the power station is starting to spread and… it looks like separate fires are starting in the lower class district.”

“What do you mean?” Twilight asks, furrowing her brows. “Separate fires? Are they fires caused by artillery?”

“No, Highness,” Ensign Knight replies, his face paling slightly as he continues to listen to his headphones. “HMS Glory reports seeing groups of armed and armored ponies carrying torches setting the fires. HMS New Dawn says it almost looks like they’re…” He trails off, putting a hoof to his mouth.

“What, Ensign? They are what?” Noire asks as she gets out of her chair and crosses to the comms pony.

“They’re herding ponies into the buildings, and then setting them on fire.” Ensign Knight replies.

As one, Twilight and Noire both look to the helmspony, and shout. “Get us into the city, NOW!”

----

The forests and foothills around Canterlot had always been a favorite place to visit of hers when Foxfire had been a filly, the trees and streams had always been so relaxing and peaceful. A perfect spot to get away from all her studies, from her parents, from her siblings. She had spent hours out here, days sometimes, to the point where everypony had been sure her special talent was going to lay in forestry. But, alas, her heart belonged to scientific and magical pursuits, followed closely by her husband.

Now, however, all she wants is to be inside the city itself.

Her husband is in there somewhere, and she’ll be damned if she lets him get himself injured because he isn’t paying attention, or he is unable to defend himself. The sheer thought of Prose possibly being cornered and at the mercy of those mercenaries makes her blood boil.

Foxfire is pulled from her thoughts when a tree branch in front of her swings back towards her, having been previously lifted away by the pony in front of her. Reacting instantly due to reflexes gained after the birth of her twins, she raises an arm and takes the full brunt of the force with it. Surprisingly, it doesn’t hurt, as the flight suit she had found in her husband’s closet -- which is padded and actually seems to have some armor sewn into it -- absorbs the shock of the tree branch as if it were nothing.

Smiling happily, she continues forward as she decides to ask Prose later exactly why he has an armored flight suit. Though, admittedly, with her tendency to have her lab burst into flames, or otherwise explode, she really shouldn’t be too surprised.

“Might want to pay attention where you’re going, lass,” a voice speaks up from beside Foxfire, causing her to start and blink as she looks over at the red pegasus wearing a white wool shirt with a leather vest over it. He he had apparently come up to walk beside her while she was lost in thought. “We’re drawing close to where that massive cannon was sighted.”

“We can’t have been walking for that long, have we?” Foxfire asks, furrowing her brows. “I could have sworn it was a few miles away from where they let us off.”

“It’s been a while,” the pegasus replies, looking ahead and sighing. “I’d wager perhaps a half hour, at least. Hour, hour and a half at most. But they’re bound to have patrols.”

“Isn’t that why Dame Applejack and Pinkie Pie brought the marines?” Foxfire offers, smiling slightly.

“Yes, but when the mercs figure out we’re here,” the pegasus starts, looking at Foxfire with a sad expression. “And trust me lass, they will. We’ll be in for a battle, it really all just comes down to how long we can trot silent in this forest.”

Opening her mouth to assure the older pony -- because now that she looks at him, the pegasus is her senior by quite a bit -- she is cut off by Pinkie Pie suddenly appearing and putting a hoof over her mouth.

“Shh, I smell grumpy ponies. A patrol must be near,” Pinkie whispers.

“How far away?” the pegasus asks, looking at the party pony with concern. “And how did they slip past the vanguard?”

Shrugging and removing her hoof from Foxfire’s mouth, Pinkie laughs. “I don’t know, I’m not the author!” She then looks to Foxfire, her smiling staying. “You two better hide, though, I’ll deal with them and we can get back to catching up to the workhorse in charge of this mission!”

“She certainly is an odd pony,” Foxfire sighs as she looks to the pegasus. “But, if there’s one thing I’ve learned while living in Ponyville, when Pinkie says duck, you dive for the nearest shelter.” She heads towards a large and old tree, and jumps up into the lowest branch. The pegasus jumps up after her, and before long they’re situated in the branches high enough up to be out of sight.

“Good hiding spot,” the pegasus remarks with a chuckle. “They never do look up.”

“Thanks,” Foxfire whispers back, keeping her eyes locked on the ground. “Just hope Pinkie knows what she is doing. Pranking ponies is one thing, but this is an active combat zone.”

“Don’t worry about her, lass,” the pegasus smiles with a wink. “She knows how to take care of herself. I taught her everything she knows.”

Before Foxfire can ask what he means by that the sound of talking reaches her ears. Swiveling them forward, she can barely make out the words, as it seems the one talking is whispering much like her and her pegasus friend have been. Looking about the area from her perch on the branch, Foxfire spots a large group of ponies walking towards the tree, through what looks like a large field of tall wild grass.

“Don’t go in the long grass, y’idiots.” The pegasus chuckles. When Foxfire shoots him a questioning glance, he nods his head towards the field, and smiles. “Watch.”

Sure enough, shortly after the large group enters the grass starts parting in another area, closer to Foxfire and the pegasus, and heads straight for the group. Momentarily confused, Foxfire blinks and almost misses one of the group suddenly tripping and vanishing into the grass without a sound. Then another, and another.

After about the fourth one going down, one of the group notices. The stallion screams, swinging his blade at something before he too is felled by whatever it is in the grass. Alerted by the scream, the entire group turns and as one tries to fight back, only to have the line in the grass circle them, and take another two from behind. The group breaks, all fleeing back towards the way they came, but to no avail as they continue to be picked off one by one, until none remain.

“Clever filly,” the pegasus remarks as he spreads his wings and jumps to the ground. He sits down and looks towards the field as he waits for Foxfire to join him.

By the time Foxfire reaches the ground, Pinkie Pie is bouncing happily out of the tall grass and humming a song that Foxfire swears she has heard her singing while walking the streets of Ponyville.

“Good work, Pinkie,” the pegasus says with a smile, pulling the party pony into a hug. “They’re not going to cause us any more trouble?”

“Nope! I tied them up like you showed me,” Pinkie states happily as she returns the hug. “Even left them some of those rations the airguard insisted we take with us.”

“Good, we’ll pick them up on the way back,” the pegasus says with a nod before releasing Pinkie from the hug. “Well, come on, let’s see if we can’t catch up to the others before your friend eats her stetson.” He starts off in the direction of the randevu point, Pinkie and Foxfire close behind him.

“So, I never got your name,” Foxfire starts after a few minutes of walking, looking to the pegasus “but you seem quite friendly with Pinkie Pie? Do you know her?”

“Oh, my gosh! I never introduced you two!” Pinkie exclaims, vanishing and then appearing between Foxfire and the pegasus, wrapping her arms around the two of them. “Foxfire, this is my grandfather, Captain Bloody Miracle!”

Extending a hoof, Miracle smiles warmly. “Aye, Captain Bloody Miracle of the Royal Equestrian Navy.” He chuckles as Foxfire takes his hoof and shakes it slowly, a look of confusion on her face. “I know what you’re thinking, lass.”

“No… You really don’t,” Foxfire replies slowly. “Because if you did, you’d know the sound of a mind imploding at the realization there is a non-monotonous Pie relative.”

“Ah, you’ve met Maud, I take it?” Miracle sighs. “She’s a good lass, sharp as a spear she is, but she can be an acquired taste.”

“Oh, Maud is really fun, though!” Pinkie says enthusiastically as she lets the two go. “But, we can’t stand around, AJ will need you two when we reach the cannon! I mean, I know a lot about them, but for something this big we’ll need a couple more smart ponies!”

“I think what we’re going to be working on is a little different than one of your party cannons, Pinkie,” Foxfire chuckles, starting forward. “I think it’d be best if you left it to the professionals. And if your grandfather is a professional…”

“Nonsense, lass,” Miracle laughs. “Pinkie is quite an expert in her own right. Those party cannons of hers are based off of naval twelve-pounders, same kind as found on any ship of the line!”

“You’re telling me, your granddaughter is constantly shooting off military grade artillery within Ponyville City limits?” Foxfire sputters, looking between Miracle and Pinkie.

“Well, not quite,” Miracle sighs. “Y’see, lass, I’d seen a lot of things by the time Pinkie came around. Terrible things during the Griffin-Drake War, and just things during the natural course of my career.” He smiles fondly as he looks towards his granddaughter, who is still happily bouncing along. “And when the wee lass became interested in parties and bringing joy to as many ponies as she could, well I knew I had a chance to start doing some good in the world and not just fixin’ and makin’ weapons of war.”

“So, what, you helped her make party cannons?” Foxfire asks, raising an eyebrow.

“I did. Found some ol’ guns the navy wanted t’ toss out,” Miracle continues, “bought ‘em up, and me and her painted them a nice shade of pink, and figured out how to make ‘em shoot confetti and streamers!”

“I learned a lot!” Pinkie exclaims from between the two, causing Foxfire to jump. “The balloons were real tricky though… Trying to get them to self-inflate after the detonation of the blank loaded into the cannon took a lot of testing, and a lot of spectacular failures!”

“Aye, but we had to fail to get it right,” Miracle sighs happily. “Progress is always made with a few spectacular explosions.”

“Now that is something I understand,” Foxfire agrees with a nod. “Now if only my husband did! I swear, he always complains about how often my lab catches fire, or the windows get blown out… or…” she sighs, ears going back against her head. “I hope he is alright.”

“Your husband is in the city?” Miracle asks slowly, frowning when Foxfire nods. “I’m sure he’ll be fine.”

“Of course he’ll be fine!” Pinkie exclaims as she suddenly appears beside Foxfire and pulls her into a hug. “Prose might be an editor and writer by day,” she pauses and sweeps one hoof in a slow arch, “but by night, he is a super cool assassin who hides in the shadows and strikes fear into the hearts of every pony, griff, or drake who happens to get in his way!”

Gently pushing the energetic party pony away, Foxfire smiles slightly. “Pinkie, you’ve always had the most interesting imagination, it’s a wonder my husband hasn’t tried to get you to sign a book deal with him.” She then chuckles. “Also, how much sugar have you had today to come up with a story like that?”

“I only had an entire double-dark-chocolate-cake to myself on the way down!” Pinkie sighs, ears flopping against her head. “Twilight told us to pack light, so I couldn’t bring more.”

“Well, when Canterlot is liberated, I’ll take you out to ice cream, Pinkie,” Miracle chuckles as he gets slightly ahead of the two mares. “But, it shall have to wait, I think we’re here.”

Looking away from Pinkie, Foxfire notices that while they’ve been talking they’ve actually caught up to the vanguard led by Applejack. The majority of the forces brought by Applejack are marines from the various airships -- including the entire compliment of marines from the Voyager, who are hailed as the most unorthodox and most effective marines in the floatilla -- as well as a few units of Royal Guards who had been stationed in Ponyville.

Applejack herself, along with her coltfriend Thunderlane, are looking lying behind a small hill leading up to the large field separating their forces from the large camp surrounding the massive cannon they’ve come here to neutralize.

And what a gun it is.

Lit by hundreds of magical lights and crawling with ponies wearing JSS uniforms, the cannon is nearly a half mile long riding on a carriage that the Friendship Express between Ponyville and Canterlot look like a toy train. And judging from the insanely large shell they’re rolling down tracks towards it, the mercs are already reloading for another shot.

And then, Foxfire hears a gasp beside her, drawing her attention away from the massive engine of death, and over to Pinkie Pie.

“It’s amazing!” Pinkie Pie squealed, running over to lay down next to AJ, leaving Miracle and Foxfire to wander over at a slower pace.

As Foxfire gets down along the small incline, she hears Thunderlane chuckle and whisper loud enough to be heard by everypony nearby.

“Well, if this isn’t an indication of how badly Blueblood is lacking in the stallion department, I don’t know what is.” He looks between Foxfire and AJ, both of the mares rolling their eyes. “What, it’s funny!”

“Sugar, I think you should save the jokes for later,” AJ whispers, pushing her hat back so she can look up at the cannon. “We need to be figuring out how to get rid of that thing.”

“But, we don’t need to get rid of it!” Pinkie Pie protests. “We just need to get rid of the crew!”

“Pinkie, we can’t let something like this continue to exist,” AJ growls. “It’s too dangerous.”

“But think of the party cannon I c-” Pinkie tries to exclaim, only to have a hoof put over her mouth

“We can argue this later,” Miracle whispers, a grim frown on his face. “Right now we need to assault their position before they reload that thing and fire on the landing airships.” He points out towards the camp and the cannon beyond. “So, Dame Applejack, you’re the military commander here, how’re we going to take that gun?”

“I’m not rightly sure, Captain,” AJ sighs, scratching her head with one hoof. “I’ve never led a military operation before, it’s why I brought you along.”

“Well, I’m more of an engineer than a commander,” Miracle sighs before nodding. “But, have no fear, lass, I’ve got an idea.” He looks over at AJ and smiles. “We’re going to need t’ go in quietly, take out as many of their sentries as we can. With the battle going on, they’re going to be on alert, so if the alarm goes up we’ll be swarmed quickly.”

“And how do you plan doing that?” AJ queries.

“Well, I figure, we build a giant wooden badger!” Pinkie Pie starts, smiling widely. “Then! When the sun sets, AJ, Thunderlane, and I jump out and open the gates!”

“Uhm, sugar cube,” AJ sighs as she gently taps on Pinkie’s head. “There ain’t no gates, and it’s already night.”

“Well, my plans out.” Pinkie sighs, flopping down to the grass.

Coughing, Miracle pats his granddaughter on the head. “It’s okay, Pinkie, I know what we need to do.” He looks to AJ and nods up towards the camp. “Their patrols are somewhat lacking, from what I’ve seen since we got here. Most of their forces must be near the cannon itself, helping to load it as I can hardly imagine it being easy.”

“How so?” Foxfire speaks up from the other side of AJ. “Even if they’re lax, I don’t think we can sneak our entire force in without them noticing.”

“Very astute, Miss Foxfire,” Miracle agrees. “But, we don’t need to sneak our entire force in, yet. We can send a few in,” he looks to his grand daughter. “Or, perhaps even one?”

AJ looks over at Pinkie Pie, as does Foxfire, and smiles broadly. “Ah, shucks, Cap’n, I think you’re onto something.”

Pinkie herself looks up, and glances between AJ and her grandfather, a smile growing on her face.

“Go give ‘em hell, lass,” Miracle chuckles.

Letting out a high pitched squee -- which causes a few of the thestrals present in the troops behind them to flinch -- Pinkie lowers her night vision goggles and gallops full tilt towards the large camp. The instant she hits the first row of tents she vanishes from view, and the group settles down to wait.

“Now what?” Foxfire asks softly, her eyes glued to the camp. She had seen what Pinkie is capable of, and a part of her almost feels sorry for the mercs.

“Now, we wait, once Pinkie starts causing some chaos in there, it should draw the majority of the guards to her. When that happens, we’ll enter and make our way to the cannon with the full force. With some luck, we’ll overwhelm the whoever is left.”

Nodding, Foxfire settles down, head resting lightly on her forehooves, as she watches the camp with a mixture of eager anticipation, and cold dread. She is about to be put into a battle to save the capital of Equestria, something she had never expected or wanted to take part in. Yet, here she is, beside not only one of the legendary Elements of Harmony, but two! The heroines who had saved Equestria countless times and had never bragged about it once -- with the exception of Rainbow Dash, but the mare being who she is that was hardly out of character -- doing it yet again.

A loud explosion, followed by a huge plume of confetti, suddenly cuts through the quiet night air and pulls Foxfire’s attention back to the present. A second explosion echoes out from another part of the camp, and another. Soon, shouts are filling the air as confused mercs are faced with a force of nature they can never hope to overcome, and the party's just starting.

“Alright, I think we can slip in now,” Miracle says loud enough to be heard over the sounds of chaos inside the nearby camp. “Give the order, Dame Applejack.”

Nodding with a grim look on her face, AJ turns and motions with a hoof towards the waiting troops. “Well, y’heard him! Let’s go make sure our friends don’t have ta’ fear the rain!” As one the troops stand, shoulder their weapons, and start forward. Foxfire, Miracle, and AJ all stand and start off as the first line of troops reach them. A small box forms around them, as the front line moves to guard them, causing Foxfire to smile sheepishly. She’ll never understand how AJ can look so comfortable striding in the middle of the formation in her armor, as if the farm mare was an experienced warrior.

The large group of soldiers under AJ’s command -- as well as Foxfire, AJ, Thunderlane, and Miracle -- make their way across the open area between the camp and their hiding point swiftly, not quite at a run but at a pace that makes them travel the distance quick enough that anypony not attempting to deal with whatever Pinkie was doing would likely dismiss them. And once they reach the tents, the soldiers not around Foxfire and the others fan out, draw and lower their weapons into a ready stance, and advance ahead of their leader.

Once the initial vanguard is in, the group around Foxfire and the others draws their own weapons and advances forward into the chaos that is the JSS camp.

It doesn’t take long for Pinkie’s actions to show up, as after a few rows of tents confetti starts liberally covering things, ponies lie motionless with pies in their face and a few are even tied up with balloons! Foxfire is once more amazed at just how resourceful the party pony is, for she had no idea there was enough space to hide the amount of balloons and confetti she is seeing as they advance.

However, it soon becomes clear that not all of the forces are drawn away by Pinkie’s antics, as the sound of actual combat soon starts to drift towards Foxfire from their destination. It grows so loud and persistent, that the group guarding them stops and readies themselves for combat.

“Looks like my granddaughter didn’t lure them all away,” Miracle sighs as he looks to Applejack. “Well, what do you think? Cut our way through, or wait and hope the troops we sent ahead take care of them?”

“Well, I don’t really want to leave this to chance,” AJ replies with a frown. “And the longer we wait, the longer that thing is able to fire on our friends. Best to take it out now, and save lives.”

“I can get behind that plan, AJ,” Foxfire smirks, reaching into the satchel she had brought along and pulling out a sling. “I’ve been itching to test out some of my newest inventions!”

“What kind of inventions, Miss Foxfire?” Miracle asks, looking over at the mare as she goes back to rummaging through her satchel.

“Hm?” Foxfire hums, looking up from her satchel with a belt full of what look to be small egg shaped devices. “Oh, uhm, mostly small explosives… and some cleaning supplies my husband insists I must have weaponized!”

“Such as?” AJ inquires, raising an eyebrow.

“Oh, well I put some of the stuff I use to clean grease off of stuff in my lab, and sometimes off the dishes when Prose cooks, into a few of these capsules,” Foxfire explains, absently as she fiddles with the belt’s buckle. “Truthfully, I don’t think it’s that strong, I mean it only eats through most things like Pinkie Pie does entire cakes.”

“Y’sure you want to bring that onto the battlefield?” AJ questions as Foxfire finishes putting on the belt.

“Yup!” Foxfire exclaims. “Now, then! Shall we go capture that cannon!”

Shrugging, AJ motions with her hoof towards the cannon. “Well, we’ve come this far, might as well see this through.” She starts forward, the group following behind her as the guards around them break ranks and rush forward.

Hesitating at the edge of the line of tents just before the growing mele, Foxfire battles with herself as her friends plunge head first into the fight. She isn’t a close range fighter; in fact, outside of the few self defense classes her husband had insisted she take, she barely knows how to fight at all. Shaking her head, she resigns herself to the fact that she is going to fight, and starts forward, stopping once more when she sees merc reinforcements coming to the aid of their comrades on one of the flanks of AJ’s forces.

Quickly levitating a circular glass grenade from her belt, she puts it in her sling, and quickly swings it around over her head a few times with her magic before launching her missile towards the reinforcements.

The glass shatters with a loud popping sound, followed by a billow of thick smoke. The majority of the mercs stumble out the other side, momentarily blinded by the smoke, which gives AJ’s forces enough time to effectively split themselves to deal with the new threat.

Foxfire selects another of her alchemical weapons, and soon another glass grenade flies into the group. This one explodes with a loud bang, shards of glass and round metal pellets shooting in all directions to strike down the lightly armored, and disorient those who aren’t felled.

The process repeats itself, sometimes smoke, sometimes other things erupting from the alchemical devices Foxfire tosses. In short order, however, the majority of the mercs are subdued, and those that are not are dealt with retreat. As soon as the last are gone, Foxfire hurries forward to the safety of AJ’s troops, the area next to the stairs up to the cannon now clear.

“Captain, if we hold the base of here, will you be able to deal with whatever crew might still be up there?” AJ asks Miracle quickly as Foxfire draws closer. “I can spare but a few troops if you don’t think so, but I’d like to have the majority down here in case they rally against us now that we’ve been discovered.”

“Give me only two, Dame,” Miracle states flatly. “I may be old but I can still fight, and in the narrow walkways, more soldiers will be a hinderance.” He looks to Foxfire as she stops nearby and smiles. “Miss Foxfire, shall we?”

Nodding with a smile of her own, Foxfire gestures with a hoof. “After you, Captain.”

The two start off towards the stairs, quickly followed by a pair of grim looking ponies wearing the light armor of the Air Marines. The ascent is quick, if tense, as shouts from above make it quite clear that some form of resistance will be found at the top.

Once at the first of many large platforms between levels, Foxfire finds the guards that came with them already engaged against the first of the defending crew of the massive cannon. They’re mostly unicorns with a few earth ponies tossed in, all of them wielding whatever can be easily reached and used, but hammers and crowbars make for effective weapons in the cramped quarters.

Pulling a vial from her belt, Foxfire uncorks the stopper and allows noxious green smoke to start spilling out. Without breathing in the fumes, she tosses the vial towards the back of the group of defenders, instantly shattering it against the guardrail, causing it to explode with a muted bang. The smoke billows forth, and Foxfire pulls her two allied guards back with her magic, as the defenders are overcome by the fumes, and fall to the floor of the platform.

“What was that?” Miracle asks as he finishes coming up the stairs.

“Compressed chloroform,” Foxfire states as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “The green color, before you ask, is something I did to the stuff in my lab so that if it leaks I can see the leak.”

“Ah, well,” Miracle chuckles slightly as he moves forward towards the next set of stairs. “Remind me to never make you angry, lass”

“You sound like my husband,” Foxfire giggles as she releases the two guards who look between the fallen crew and the unicorn they’ve been sent to escort before following Miracle.

They continue their ascent, the resistance growing steadily as the crew becomes more desperate to stop the intruders. A platform beneath the firing station, they even go so far as to try and cut loose the catwalk with hacksaws and welding torches. The last group is dealt with quickly, and the catwalk stabilized by some well-placed ice spells. The guards go first, heading up the last staircase to the control platform, followed closely by Miracle and Foxfire.

The control platform is a large enclosed and soundproof structure full of stations that are currently unoccupied. At the far end, surrounded by heavily armored and armed mercs, is a stallion wearing likewise heavy armor and smoking a large cigar. His hoof hovers dangerously close to a lever, the smile on his face making Foxfire’s blood run cold as she wonders just what that lever is for.

“Well, well,” the stallion calls over, a cloud of smoke erupting from his mouth as he does. “Looks like my uninvited guests have made it up here at last, I hope the gun crew wasn’t too much trouble for you.” He levitates a hoofheld crossbow and points it at Foxfire. “Oh, and none of your tricks, Miss Alchemist; I’d rather not have to ruin such a lovely face.”

Foxfire lowers the glass sphere she was placing into her sling, frowning deeply as he looks towards Miracle. However, instead of a calm and collected look, as she had seen the pegasus wear in just about every other situation they’d been in tonight, Foxfire almost takes a step backwards as she sees the look of controlled fury on his face.

“I should have known Janus would hire a psychopath like you, Blast,” Miracle says coldly, causing the stallion behind the guards to laugh.

“Captain Miracle! I am simply touched you remember your old weapons officer!” Blast smirks as he taps the ash from the end of his cigar. “After all, after you got me discharged I thought you would have forgotten all about me!”

“After what you did, how could I, lad.” Miracle remarks, his glare growing. “Y’had no business doing what ya did! I could have had you court martialed for your actions! I nearly did if y’hadn’t fled like the coward you are.”

“Insults, Captain?” Blast sighs, shaking his head. “Such is beneath a hero of Equestria like you! Especially in a conversation with an old friend! An old friend who currently holds the balance of Canterlot in his hooves!” He lowers his hoof more towards the lever. “Unless, of course, you believe one of those shelters, you know the ones full of civilians, can hold up against this gun?” Miracle, as well as the guards and Foxfire, all take a step forward only to be stopped by the mercs on the other side raising their own crossbows into a ready position. Blast continues on as if it’s the most normal night in the world. “Now, I don’t know about you, but I am personally curious. I designed the shells for this beauty myself, after-all. I really do want to know if they can bust those bunkers, the civilian casualties are only a bonus.”

“You’re a monster,” Foxfire growls, lowering her ears and shooting a glare at Blast.

“Why thank you, I do try to live up to the expectations my mother had of me,” Blast chuckles before taking a long draw from his cigar. Exhaling again, he gestures with his crossbow. “So, what shall I do with you four? You can’t attack me, since I’ll blow up a few hundred civilians, and I really would rather not kill my old Captain, even if he hates my guts, he did teach me everything I know.”

“So, you want us to surrender?” Foxfire scoffs, taking a step forward, her glare hardening. “As if!”

“Well, that’s too bad,” Blast sighs, his hoof going towards the lever, “I guess I’ll just have to kill you, and then fire the cannon. I won’t even charge Blueblood for it!” His hoof starts to lower, and right before it gets to the lever, Miracle’s voice rings out through the tense air.

“Stop! We’ll surrender,” Miracle barks, causing Foxfire to spin and look at the older pony. Surprisingly, she sees none of the fury or rage that had been there earlier, instead there is a peaceful calm. Noticing her expression, which is one of pure shock, Miracle subtly motions his head towards, and behind, Blast.

Looking in that direction, Foxfire spots something slowly rising up behind their foe, and a smile starts to form on her face.

“What are you smiling at?” Blast asks, frowning.

“Oh, well, you see,” Miracle starts as he sits down, gesturing with one hoof. “I think Foxfire is happy that we’ve surrendered and you won’t be blowing up anymore of the city!”

“And why is that?” Blast asks once more, his eyes narrowing, oblivious to the pink pony rising behind him.

“Because one of her friends, my grand daughter in fact, wants to throw a party there when the battle is over!” Miracle continues, a smile of his own growing. “And, one does not simply deny the Dame of Laughter her party plans!” He then leans over slightly to the left, and winks at the pony behind Blast. “Isn’t that right, lass?”

Before Blast can turn around, he is struck square in the jaw by an impressive balloon hammer with a loud squeaking sound. The impact sends him flying into the line of mercs, and bowls most of them over. Foxfire and the others use the confusion spawned by Pinkie Pie’s sneak attack to rush forward and help the party pony subdue the mercs and their insane leader, with the end result being most of them tied up with balloons and other fun related objects.

“Sorry I took so long!” Pinkie Pie says cheerfully. “I got side-tracked with disabling the loader crew and jamming the firing pin!”

“Jammed the firing pin?” Foxfire inquires with a raised eyebrow. “How’d you manage to do that? It has to be massive.”

“With raspberry jelly, of course!” Pinkie Pie declares, holding up a jar of the stuff.

Foxfire opens and closes her mouth a few times, then furrows her brow and waves a hoof. “You know what, I’ll just accept that as a valid answer.” She looks to Miracle and sighs. “So, now what, Captain?”

“Now, lass,” Miracle says slowly, walking over towards the door. “Now we go tell Dame Applejack that the gun is clear, and head into the city.” He looks to his granddaughter and smiles. “Can you stay here, Pinkie, and make sure these lot don’t cause any more trouble?”

“Okie-dokie-lokie!” Pinkie Pie agrees as she continues to put party hats on the poor captured mercs.

-----

Twilight pants as she runs along the war torn streets of Canterlot. Vaguely, in the part of her mind that is not focused on running, she recognizes the street as one that’d had one of her favorite restaurants.

It’s also a half-mile from the castle.

Twilight groans internally as she turns a corner and jumping over a small impact crater in the street. She wanted to teleport closer to the Castle when they had landed, a desire that Rarity had backed up wholeheartedly. When Twilight had attempted it, however, the magic had fizzled out and Twilight had barely been able to move them a few feet.

Unwilling to waste any more of her magic, Twilight and Rarity had endeavored to make their way from the landing zone -- a large park in the middle-class district -- to the Castle.

However, as she goes through the city, the desire is mired down by the sheer horror of the sights of a city torn asunder. It takes all the resolve she has to not stop and flee the city, so horrible is the feeling of wrongness that permeates the air.

“Twilight, dear wait up!” Rarity calls from behind Twilight, causing Twilight to stop and look back at her friend. She frowns as she realizes Rarity is quite a distance behind her, having been left in the dust as Twilight had become lost in her thoughts.

“Sorry, Rarity,” Twilight offers sheepishly in apology as she dances from hoof to hoof.

“Something wrong, Twilight?” Rarity asks as she comes up next to her friend.

“The city, it’s just... “ Twilight shakes her head and sighs, shivering. “My parents live nearby, I just hope they’re okay.”

“I’m sure they’re fine, Twilight,” Rarity offers, patting her friend. “But right now we have more pressing issues. Like getting to the Castle.” She starts forward, stopping as she notices Twilight isn’t moving. “Come along, darling. I don’t know about you, but I am not in the mood to meet any of the mercenaries who made this horrid mess of the city.”

Nodding with a grimace, Twilight starts moving again, this time making sure she doesn’t outpace Rarity.

They make good time through the remainder of the city, despite having to take multiple detours around collapsed buildings or particularly fierce fires. The damage only grows worse, too, as they near the castle, with hardly a single building standing or left untouched by the multiple attacks on the city. In fact, as they near the street leading to one of the entrances to the castle, a group of wounded mercenaries stumbling down the street forces Twilight and Rarity to take cover.

Emerging from their hiding place -- which the rubble of what had once been one of Rarity’s favorite clothing stores -- Twilight looks to Rarity with a raised eyebrow.

“I guess the Castle’s defenses are still holding,” Rarity offers.

“Then we’d best hurry.” Twilight states seriously, looking down the way the wounded ponies had gone. The pair charge down the street, making their way down the last two blocks needed to reach the castle in record time.

And then they turn the corner and stop, their breath taken away as surely as if they had hit a wall.

The entire street is littered with bodies, many of them in more than one piece, the cobblestones of the street stained red with the amount of spilled blood. A few ponies yet live within the living hell before Twilight and Rarity, their quiet sobbing and moans filling the air as a few struggle weakly to drag themselves away from the direction the castle sits in.

Peering down the street, Twilight attempts to see has caused this carnage, but the multitude of burning buildings in the area have caused a heavy smoke to lay in the area, the choking haze obscuring even the enhanced sight of an alicorn.

Putting caution to the wind, Twilight advances forward slowly, doing her best to avoid stepping in one of the many pools of blood… or on a body. Gingerly, she picks her way deeper into the butcher’s field, until she comes to an injured mercenary. He is no older than her brother, his coat a deep burgundy that makes assessing his wounds difficult, as does the large amount of blood covering him and the ground. The stallion looks up at Twilight, and reaches a shaking hoof up towards her.

“Please, help me,” His voice is weak, scared. “I don’t want to die!”

“Calm down,” Twilight says slowly, attempting to sound more calm than she is. “What did this do you? What happened here?”

“A daemon! A creature of pure malice and death!” The stallion whimpers, tears forming in his eyes. “The Reserves and Guards must have summoned it, for they knew they could not defeat us without infernal aid!”

Frowning, Twilight opens her mouth to inform the injured stallion that, surely, he is suffering from delirium brought on by his injuries and the smoke, but the sound of heavy hoof beats against the cobblestone stops her. They are slow, deliberate, heavy, and accompanied by the sound of clinking metal. Looking up and towards the direction of the Castle’s gates, she sees a figure forming in the smoke.

The figure is tall, far taller than Twilight, and looks to be wielding a long-bladed spear that is being held pointing down. As it advances, the stallion next to Twilight starts to whimper and shiver, dragging himself away with his front hooves in a vain attempt to escape.

And then, the figure emerges from the smoke, and there is a scream.

It takes a moment before Twilight realises the scream came from Rarity, and that Twilight herself is standing in front of the injured mercenary with her wings flared out, and a spell halfway cast. But before she can cast her spell, or demand the creature before her surrender, it too flares out its wings, which are spattered with blood, and fixes the stallion with a glare.

“The time has come for you to choose,” the spectre declares, his spear leveling at the whimpering stallion. “Do you surrender, or shall I add your corpse to my growing collection?”

“P-please don’t kill me!” the injured stallion cries, covering his face with blood-soaked hooves.

“Then say it,” the spectre continues in a growl.

“I surrender! Please, I want to live!” the stallion whimpers.

The spectre sighs, raising his spear in his magic, and tapping the end of it against the ground. The sound pierces the noise of the flames, and the moans of the dying, and before too long the sound of approaching hooves reaches Twilight who has yet to move from in front of the wounded stallion. It is because of this that Twilight is the first to see the approaching figures of ponies, which soon resolve into a pair of weary Royal Guard medics carrying a stretcher. The two stop beside the spectre and look up at him for guidance.

“Take him to the infirmary with the others who have surrendered from this wave,” the spectre says in a surprisingly soft tone. “Leave the dying, we cannot waste medical supplies upon them, and they shall serve as a reminder to those who have attacked this city of the price of rebellion.”

“Yes, Lord Shiro,” the senior of the guards replies, before walking over towards Twilight and stopping. “Your highness, please move so we can assist him.”

Numbly, Twilight nods and steps aside, her wings falling to her side as she looks between the guards and Shiro.

“Princess Twilight Sparkle, I presume?” Shiro asks, turning slightly. Not waiting to see if she nods, he starts walking back through the smoke. “You and your friend need to come with me. It is not safe here.”

“What?!” Rarity shouts from behind Twilight. “I have to walk through that?” She punctuates her last statement by pointing at the field of blood and dead. “I think I’ll stay here, and take my chances with th-” Rarity is cut off as a crimson glow appears around her, lifts her up into the air, and drags her quickly into the smoke and towards the Castle as she shrieks loudly.

Taking to the air to avoid most of the bodies, Twilight catches up to the pair as Shiro puts Rarity down inside the Castle’s gates.

“How dare you!” Rarity yells at Shiro, eyes narrowed. “Treating a Dame Friendship! A personal friend to the Princess! Why I shou-”

“Rarity, enough,” Twilight cuts in, causing her friend to sputter and direct a glare at Twilight. When she says no more, thought, Twilight looks to Shiro and frowns. “I would like to know who you are, though. You’re taller than any pony I’ve met except Princess Celestia and Luna.”

Removing his helmet and setting it aside, Shiro studies Twilight with a small smile. “Because, little Princess, I am kin to them. An alicorn, much like yourself, as you can see.”

“But… besides Celestia, Luna, Cadence, and I, there are no other alicorns!” Twilight professes, frowning. “Besides, why would you come here now, of all times? What stake do you have in protecting this city?”

“My own,” Shiro replies curtly. “I will be happy to explain them to you when the city is once more secure. Granddaughter,” he looks past Twilight, “please escort Princess Twilight and her Dame to the ballroom. The Commanders and Master Sergeant will want to speak to her immediately.”

Turning around Twilight shifts to one side as a fully armored mare, the pips of a Major General on her collar, comes striding up to stand beside her.

“It would be my honor, Grandfather,” the mare chuckles before waving a hoof to Rarity and Twilight. “If you will follow me, your highness, Dame Rarity.” As she walks, Twilight studies the mare, wondering just how so much blood and dirt could cover a single pony.

Walking into the Castle, Rarity at her side, Twilight is rendered speechless by the damage to the inside, as well as the amount of injured ponies that are wandering the hallways. Everywhere she looks, ponies are walking through the hallways, more times than not they hold their heads low and walk in an aimless fashion, as if the world is simply passing them by. The majority, however, are walking with purpose, even if the look in their eyes tells Twilight that they are clinging to whatever jobs they’ve been assigned as if to let go of it would mean drowning.

The sea of ponies parts before the general, many offering salute as she pasess. As such, they make quick time to the ballroom, or rather what remains of it.

The instant the doors open, Twilight feels her stomach sink at the state of the ballroom. Yet, she holds her head high as she looks to the pony who has guided them.

“Thank you, General…?” Twilight asks, a reassuring smile on her face.

“Diamond, your highness,” General Diamond responds, bowing. “General Diamond Star, of House Star.” She then looks over at a large table in the center of the controlled chaos that is the ballroom. “You’re going to want to go to that table, Commanders Knight and Dawn will be there, as will Acting Reserve-Commander Yearling.” As she turns to leave, Rarity puts a hoof on her shoulder, quickly pulling it back and grimacing at the blood and dirt.

“General, you wouldn’t happen to be the same Diamond Star who is also Duchess Star?” Rarity asks, tapping her forehooves together sheepishly.

“I am,” Diamond chuckles. “What of it?”

“Well, you see… if you are Duchess, what does that make Shiro?” Rarity inquires, a look of worry on her face.

“A very patient stallion,” Diamond replies, leaving Rarity stunned, and her question not quite answered as she departs.

Shaking her head, Twilight makes her way to the table indicated by Diamond, leaving Rarity sitting in the doorway as her expression rapidly cycles through shock, horror, worry, and outrage.

Stopping a short ways from the large banquet table, Twilight studies the five adults at the table, as well as the form of a small pegasus colt wearing what looks to be royal guard armor. She knows most of the adults, primarily Commanders Knight and Dawn of the Day and Night Guard, as well Wind Rider who was a fixture at the Gala every year as a former Wonderbolt.

The last two, however, are the most interesting.

The first she vaguely recognized as Witching Hour’s brother, the description fitting at least and the family resemblance being uncanny. And if the first is Leaf Wind, then the second could only be Daring Do, also known as…

“Yearling, have you been able to get a signal on that thing yet?” Dawn grumbles in a weary growl. “We need to get back into contact with the fleet.”

“Working on it, Dawn,” Daring grumbles as she hands a wrench to Leaf who is beside Rider.

The three Reservists currently have the radio open, exposing all kinds of wires, crystal batteries, and mechanical pieces. “You’re just lucky me and Leaf have some field experience with this sort of thing.”

“You have to learn fast when it’s between being stuck on an island full of angry cannibals, and your ride home!” Leaf comments, poking at something inside the radio’s casing.

“Less talking, more fixing,” Rider grunts around a set of pick-like tools in his mouth.

“I don’t think you three know what you’re doing,” the colt sighs. “Perhaps you should ask someone who knows more about this sort of stuff?”

“Like who? Everypony else has more important things to do,” Leaf states. “And it’s not like we’re going to get a surprise visit from somepony who can fix a magical capacitor in the next five minutes.”

“Well,” the colt starts, pointing over at Twilight, “what about Princess Twilight?”

“Yeah right… Princess Twilight’s probably trapped behind a skirmish line somewhere between here and the landing site…” Leaf’s sarcastic retort is accompanied by a wave of his hoof at the colt. “I doubt we’ll be seeing her anytime soon.” He looks over at Dawn and Knight who have snapped to attention. “What’s gotten into you two? Too much starch in your armor?”

“I think they’re just happy to see me,” Twilight chuckles as she goes to stand at the table, beside Dawn, a smile on her face. “After all, I ran all the way here.” She looks to Leaf who is looking at her wide-eyed. “Something wrong, Leaf?”

Turning to Daring, Leaf clears his throat. “Dee? Could you do me a favor, and pull my hoof out of my throat?”

“Hmm,” Daring hums as she looks over Leaf. “I don’t know, dear. Might be easier to just pull it out the other end, would be much closer from that direction.” She then looks over at Twilight her eyes serious. “So, with you here that means over all command falls to you now. Right?”

“I… guess so? I’ve never really commanded a military force.” Twilight says sheepishly, rubbing the back of her head with one hoof. “I wouldn’t even know where to start.”

“It’s easy, you tell us to get stuff done,” Daring offer slowly, gesturing at herself first then at Twilight, “and we get it done! Simple as that.”

“Okay... “ Twilight’s hesitant response is followed by her looking at the map on the table. “I think I can do that…” She looks to the other ponies at the table who are looking at her expectantly. “Tell me what the situation is, and what these things on the map are, and I’ll do my best.”

“Don’t worry, your highness,” Dawn says with a smile and a nod. “We all know what we’re doing.” He then gestures to the map. “Now, these lines represent our current front line, last we had contact with it at least.” He points to a red string line held up by push pins. “With you here, chances are whatever forces you brought are already pressing Blueblood’s, so most likely it has since shifted in our favor.” He looks up at Twilight who is frowning deeply.

“Blueblood?” Twilight asks, concern filling her voice. “Why would the Archduke, Celestia and Luna’s nephew, attack his own city?”

“We’re not sure yet, your highness,” Knight cuts in, “the mercenaries we’ve been able to capture, especially their officers, keep telling us some garbage about how Blueblood has proof that both of his aunts are dead, captured, or some combination of the two.” The thestral commander sighs and shakes his head. “Where he got these ludacris ideas, we do not know, but they’ve all sworn profusely that it’s the truth.”

“Do we know where he is?” Twilight inquires, looking at the map.

“We believe his base of operations is in the ruins of his estate,” Dawn says, pointing to a section of the map in the ruined upper class area. “So far as we can tell, this is the most heavily defended area in the occupied zone.”

“Have you attempted to attack it?” Twilight’s question earns her a sigh from Daring. “Something you want to say, Daring?”

“We’ve been on the defensive the entire time, your highness,” Daring replies with a gesture to the map. “A lot of our forces were injured from the attack that took out the upper class district. Blueblood took advantage of that, and struck us where we were weakest, and used the threat of civilian casualties to stay our hooves in open warfare.” She sighs, and points to the map, a look of profound fatigue and sorrow on her face. “Honestly, without Shiro at the front gates, we likely would have been overwhelmed hours ago. We’ve been floundering trying to get to the pockets of resistance in the other districts.”

“Then we need to get aid to the stranded guards?” This time, Twilight’s question is rewarded with smiles and nods from the commanders. “And establish a line of communication with other important places in the city?”

“Yes, Princess!” Leaf says enthusiastically. “Now you’re getting it!”

“Thanks, Leaf,” Twilight blushes. She then coughs and looks at the map, frowning. “I guess, then, the first place we should liberate is a closer landing zone for the airships.” She points to a large park near the Castle. “This should do, and it’s close to one of the shelters for the civilians, we can start evacuating them as we land troops.”

“That’s a good start, Princess,” Daring agrees, looking at the map herself. “But, what about the hospital? Canterlot General needs reinforcements; they’ve needed them all night.”

“Don’t worry, Daring,” Twilight replies with a confidant smile. “I’ve already sent some of my most trusted ponies to do just that.”

-----

From her perch upon the back of her coltfriend, Big Mac, Fluttershy cannot help but hide her face away behind her mane as the ruined streets of Canterlot fly past her. She had kept her eyes closed for most of the run into the city, the sounds of distant combat and screams of terror filling her senses. If not for the fact that she is perched atop the one pony she feels truly safe with, terror would have taken her long ago. Sure, the platemail Mac wears is cold, and uncomfortable to sit on, and the navy medic uniform she is wearing makes her feel out of place…

Another loud explosion rips through the air, and Fluttershy lets out a loud (for her) scream, pressing herself deeper into Mac’s armored shoulders and back.

Slowing down, Mac snorts as he goes around the flaming debris of a ruined building -- from the liberal scattering of books and a few potted plants seen from under her mane Fluttershy surmises it might have been a house -- only to stop on the other side and look back at Fluttershy.

“Y’alright Fluttershy?” Mac asks in his deep drawl, muffled slightly by his helmet. When she nods, Mac starts forward again, this time at a slower pace. “I reckon we should be at the hospital soon.”

Squeaking out her agreement, Fluttershy silently hopes that by soon, Mac means ‘the next time we turn a corner’ and not that they’ll have to spend minutes more in this flame wreathed mirror of tartarus. Glancing back, she watches as the soldiers who had been given to Mac’s command -- most of them Royal Equestrian Marines from the airships mixed with what Royal Guard had been stationed in Ponyville -- make their way around the ruins that Mac and her had just cleared. Though their faces are the masks of professional soldiers, the shivering yellow pegasus can tell that they’re just as frightened as her.

Before she can really think on that fact, how soldiers who are trained and expect to go to places like this can be afraid, Mac starts forward again with the troops following in his wake.

Their journey takes a while yet, far too long in Fluttershy’s terrified opinion, and by the time they turn the last corner she is just about ready to try her luck at flying out of the city and back to Ponyville. However, the sight that comes into view around that corner, stops any thoughts Fluttershy had of fleeing before they can take root.

Canterlot General is a beaten shadow of its former self, the windows smashed out of most of the floors, sandbag walls and tables forming barricades on the front entrance, and the bodies of defenders and attackers both litter the space between the hospital’s entrance and the buildings on the far side of the plaza it sits on. The terrible wrongness of it all, of all this death in a place of healing, strikes a chord deep in Fluttershy’s being, the fear and trepidation she had felt prior to witnessing this site evaporating like rain beneath the sun.

Without thinking, she leaps from Mac’s shoulders, taking flight and shooting quicker than anypony had seen her fly towards the entrance. She barely hears the thundering hooves of Mac behind her, as well as the shouts from both her troops and the weary defenders.

And then she is inside.

Still more defenders greet her, many covered in superficial or non-critical wounds wrapped in bandages. Many can barely hold their weapons straight, and quite a few do not even attempt to hold them at all. Their eyes speak of having seen things nopony should ever have to witness, and a fatigue so gripping it is as if their very souls are being crushed by it. She presses forward, the guards parting before her like snow before the plow, a few of the more alert offering her salutes and murmuring ‘Dame Fluttershy’ as she passes them.

Stopping in the middle of them all, Fluttershy shivers a little as she realizes they’re all looking at her as if she is the most beautiful sight they’ve seen in awhile. And, perhaps she is, Fluttershy admits to herself, as she represents their relief. Their long fight is almost at an end.

The sea of defenders parts again, this time Mac strides through and everypony present gasps at the giant armored stallion, eyes wide, as he comes to stand beside Fluttershy. Looking up at him, Fluttershy swallows, and climbs back up to stand on his back, all the ponies in the crowd instantly looking up at her. From up there, she isn’t too nervous, but they also still look like they want her to say something.

Clearing her throat, she flinches slightly as even the noise of the distant fighting seems to quiet down, all eyes and ears focused on her.

“G-good evening, everypony,” Fluttershy squeaks quietly, trying her best to stand tall for all the injured ponies. “I-I’m sorry it took us so long to get here! Our airship was forced land in the outskirts of the city, a-and we had to fight our way here. But, we’ve brought medical supplies, a-and Mac and I brought troops! Y-you’ve all been so brave, but your part in this fight is over. You can all put down your weapons, a-and we’ll see to your injuries, and get you something warm to eat.”

And as if on cue, the relief troops Fluttershy and Mac had brought start taking up their positions, the support staff with them bringing in the supplies. The weary defenders all around Fluttershy and Mac all brighten at the entrance of the supplies, many even sitting down and staring in wonder.

Yes, these ponies had been through hell, Fluttershy decides. And it breaks her heart to see them thus.

From her perch Fluttershy watches her troops take up positions at the barricades, both inside and out, and the weary troops to start shuffling deeper into the hospital. A single stallion in guard armor breaks off from the weary defenders and walks over towards her and Mac, offering a salute to Fluttershy.

“Dame Fluttershy,” the stallion greets the yellow pegasus in a weary, but commanding tone which causes Fluttershy to shy away a little. “I am Lieutenant Dusk Chaser, I am the one leading the Guards here at the hospital, per Commander Amber Dawn’s orders.”

“Nice to meet you, Lieutenant,” Fluttershy whispers softly.

“If you will follow me, I shall escort you and your,” Chaser pauses and looks to Mac, who raises an eyebrow, “guardian, somewhere more comfortable.”

“I-I’d like to be shown to where I can put my skills to use,” Fluttershy starts, causing Chaser to raise an eyebrow. “If that’s alright with you, that is… I know my way around a bandage…”

“You sure you want to go help back there? It’s not pretty,” Chaser warns, looking between Mac and Fluttershy.

Swallowing and gathering all her courage, Fluttershy nods. “I do, Lieutenant. They’ve likely been working non-stop since all this started, I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if I didn’t go try and ease their burden.”

Nodding, Chaser turns and starts walking towards a pair of large double doors marked ‘Emergency - Staff Only’, speaking as he reaches the doors. “If that is your wish, ma’am, then I shall not argue. The majority of the critically wounded have already been cleared, but there are a few left, along with scores of minor and non-critical. I suggest you roll up your sleeves, gather what courage you have, and keep that brave face fixed in place.” He pases, hoof on the door, and looks over his shoulder as Fluttershy gets off Mac’s back and looks at Chaser. “I wish you luck, I don’t have the courage to go in there more than I need.” He pushes the door open and stands to one side, holding it open for Fluttershy and Mac.

Mac goes first, as Fluttershy instantly hesitates and shies away from the door, Chaser’s words carrying an ominous undertone. Mac pauses halfway through the door, looking back at Fluttershy and motioning with his head for her to follow, which she does with one final deep breath to try and collect herself.

However, once she crossed the threshold of the emergency room, her resolve nearly breaks.

The first thing to hit her is the smell, the acidic smell of cleaning agents barely hiding the putrid stench of spilled fluids -- blood, vomit, bowel, all equally and liberally represented and repressed by the smell of bleach -- sparking primal revulsion deep within Fluttershy’s mind. Even Mac does his best to shy away at the smell, his massive armored form unconsciously backing away while also moving closer to Fluttershy as if to protect her.

The next thing to hit her is the sight. An entire section of the room, and perhaps even extending out into the hallway, are bodies. Shrouded upon stretchers and counters, stacked in rows like firewood in bodybags, and some even simply wrapped in soiled sheets or flags and put to one side. The sheer amount of dead, and the implication of there being many more in the hallway, brings tears to Fluttershy’s eyes, even as her heart tries its best to freeze between heartbeats from the sheer horror of it all. Without thinking, she wraps her arms around one of Mac’s, pulling herself beneath him where she can be sheltered, in some small way, from the horror that is the cost of open conflict. Shivering, she closes her eyes to block it out, and try to piece back together her fractured courage before it buckles completely and she flees.

Because if she flees, she’ll fail Twilight, and she couldn’t do that to her friend, let alone all the ponies who had suffered here.

“Hey! You two, you’re not supposed to be back here if you’re not injured!” A voice comes from nearby, the gruff tone causing Fluttershy to shy away and almost run from the room.

“SorryI’lljustbeleavingthenifyoudon’tnee…” Fluttershy speaks quickly, her words running together before the pony who spoke comes into view, his stern expression causing her words to die into a wordless, and quiet, scream.

“By the Sun, quit your screaming,” the stallion grumbles, which earns him a loud snort from Mac who is now glaring at him. “What’s your problem?”

“Yer scarin’ her,” Mac rumbles dangerously.

“Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t know they let delicate flowers wear those uniforms,” the stallion continues, pointing at Fluttershy. “Last I checked, wearing that meant you’re prepared to charge elbow deep into gore and drag ponies kicking n’ screaming back to life!” He turns around, ignoring the glare from Mac that could likely pickle apples. “Now, get her out of here, and let the medical professionals continue to save ponies.”

As he starts to walk away, a pale lavender unicorn mare wearing the scrubs of a nurse comes over and levitates a clipboard up in her magic. Without stopping, she swats the stallion on the back of the head with it, causing him to nearly fall face first into a gurney, and stops in front of Fluttershy with a warm smile.

“What the hay was that for!?” the stallion demands loudly, rubbing his head.

“For being rude to a Dame of Friendship, you insufferable old codger,” the mare states calmly before addressing Fluttershy. “Please forgive my ex-husband, the navy did wonders for his personality, I assure you.”

“I-it’s okay, miss…” Fluttershy squeaks, peeking out from behind one of Mac’s legs. “I… I really should have perhaps come in with one of the soldiers guarding the front… or with another medic or…”

“Dear, it is alright,” the unicorn continues, her smile growing. Though, now that Fluttershy takes a good look at her, she can see there is very little to smile about, as the mare is liberally covered in blood, the sight of which causes Fluttershy to shiver. “So, are you here to help? We could use the extra set of hooves. Most of the staff collapsed the instant the most critically wounded were cleared.”

Nodding, Fluttershy peers out at the mare, a small smile forming on her lips. “Uh-huh, Twilight… that is to say Princess Twilight, asked me to come here with the volunteer medical staff from Ponyville and the Two-Twenty-Second Airguard doctors…”

“Oh?” The mare’s eyes widen a bit. “Explains why I’ve not gotten any more wounded in here if you’ve landed troops in the city.” She then looks at the door. “So, where are they?”

“Mac and I… sort of got ahead of them,” Fluttershy whispers, running her hooves over the front of her mane while looking at the floor. “They should be here soon, so I won’t be in your mane long… because you’ll have your professional doctors soon.”

“Nonsense, dear,” the mare chuckles. “If you wish to help, then I’ll gladly have you help.” She offers a hoof, her smile remaining. “My name is Faith Cure. I’m the head nurse here.” Fluttershy takes her hoof and comes out from beneath Mac as Faith continues in her soothing tone, though it takes on an edge of annoyance as she looks over at the stallion who she struck earlier. “And that walking blue bag of sunshine is my ex-husband, Real McCoy, but he’ll likely insist you call him ‘Bones’ because…”

“Because she took everything from me in the divorce,” Bones mutters. “Left me with nothing but my bones…”

“I left you the house, and all the shiny pieces of metal they pinned on your chest!” Faith says in an exasperated tone. “Honestly, you should be happy about me leaving you the house alone! Remember it? The beautiful one on the sea in Vanhoover?” She turns to Fluttershy, her smile growing fond. “It was our dream house, oh you should have seen how happy we were! The view alone would take your breath away!”

“I’ve not lived in it since you left, I have an apartment in Manehatten now, closer to my job.” Bones sighs. “Besides, it’s much too large for a single pony to live in by themselves, too cold during the winter.”

“Well, whose fault is that?” Faith retorts, crossing her arms and glaring at Bones.

“Uhm… I… think I’ll just go over to a table and… see what I can do.” Fluttershy whispers, slowly inching her way around the two arguing ponies and heading off towards anywhere that isn’t there, Mac in tow behind her.

The two continue to bicker, though it is rather obvious to Fluttershy that despite the heated words, they have feelings for each other. Still, the intensity of it makes Fluttershy more uncomfortable than the smell and sights in the ER, so she picks her way through the maze of gurneys until she finds a place far enough away that the shouting isn’t too close, and she is able to find something she can do. Namely, help a mare wind bandages.

The mare is a green unicorn, her own nurses uniform stained in the same fashion as Faith’s but also sporting rips and tears in it as if she has been in a fight. Her eyes are fixed on the bandages she is winding, partially using her magic and partially using her hooves, so Fluttershy is surprised when she speaks in a weary tone.

“I take it my boss and her ex drove you over here with their yelling?” the mare asks as she levitates a roll of bandages off to one side, where they’re snatched out of the air by a large paw and set down on a nearby table.

At the sight of the paw, Fluttershy looks up at the creature it’s attached to, and backs up into Mac’s front legs as she spots a griffin, likewise covered in blood but also bandages and small scratches. Mac blinks a few times, and then looks over at the Griffin with a raised eyebrow.

“Don’t mind Quicktail,” the mare sighs. “He wouldn't hurt a fly, unless that fly was wearing a JSS uniform…”

“And I’ve no stomach for bloodshed right now, anyway,” Quicktail says softly, his eyes distant as he leans against the table he is sitting beside, the stack of bandages upon it nearly as tall as he is. “So, please, don’t be afraid little mare. I’m as harmless as a newborn chick right now.” He looks to Mac and smiles. “Besides, I don’t think I’d ever get past your big friend there, he looks like he could beat a mountain into submission.”

“Oh…” Fluttershy speaks up from behind one of Mac’s legs. “I’m sorry… I’ve just… Griffins have been mean to me in the past…”

“Then I apologize on behalf of the griffin race,” Quicktail chuckles wearily. “A lot of my fellows do not know how to smile, let alone get along with others.” He gestures to the table Ember is sitting at, his face splitting into what Fluttershy can only hope to assume is a griffin smile. “I am sure my marefriend would love to have some help with the bandages, I keep trying to get her to rest, but she keeps telling me she can’t stop until this whole thing with Blueblood is over.”

“Your… marefriend?” Fluttershy asks, her ears perking up as she comes out. “I didn’t know griffins took pony mates.”

“They don’t, normally,” the mare speaks up, levitating another roll to Quicktail. “I’m a special case, I guess. Not that I complain, he makes for a warm bed, and he’s really good at cooking breakfast.” She motions to the table, looking up at Fluttershy at last with a smile. “And, what my birdbrained special somepony failed to mention is my name, which is Emerald Haze, by the way. Though most ponies call me Ember.”

With a smile of her own, Fluttershy sits down and picks up a bandage, winding it slowly with her hooves. “I’m Fluttershy, and… well the big stallion behind me is Big Macintosh…” She then blushes and winds the bandage in front of her a little faster as Mac sits down behind her, mirroring Quicktail and Ember. “He… is also my special somepony.”

A whistling sound draws her attention back up, and she blushes harder as she sees both Ember and Quicktail staring.

“You’re a lucky mare,” Ember chuckles, winking to Fluttershy and Mac.

“Though, honestly, I am surprised you can walk. I mean, it must be great in b-” Quicktail starts up, a smirk on his face, but a rolled bandage finds its way up and into his open beak.

“Now now, dear, no asking such personal questions to the nice couple we just met,” Ember admonishes her significant other without stopping her own work.

Both Fluttershy and Mac blush a little, and avert their eyes from the other couple, as Fluttershy continues the mindless work of rolling bandages and doing her best to ignore the distant rumbling that she assumes to be cannon fire.

The work is relaxing, too, in a mindless way. She can focus on it and forget everything else, much like if she was meditating or doing her chores at home. Before long, she has lost all track of time, and barely notices the medics come in to relieve the few doctors still on their hooves in the room, with the exception of Faith, Bones, Ember, and herself that is. Quicktail and Mac also remain behind, sitting beside their respective mares, unwilling to leave their sides.

It isn’t until shouting echoes through the ER that Fluttershy is snapped back to paying attention to the world around her.

“I know you’re not supposed to be here!” Bones shouts, making Fluttershy whip her head around towards the commotion like a wild animal honing into a potential threat. “You’re not a doctor, and you are hardly worth even the title you do hold!”

“Now now, Bones,” a new voice replies; it’s smooth, and holds a hint of mirth in it. “I came here to check in with the Dame, and to see an old friend! You can hardly fault me for making sure you’re still breathing.”

“Yes I can, you lame excuse for a sea-captain!” Bones continues, stomping over towards a gold pony wearing the uniform of a naval admiral. “The only thing on Celestia’s green earth that’s going to kill me is my ex, and right now I seem to be more useful to her alive than dead, so you’d best stop worrying about my health!” He thrusts a hoof into the face of the other pony. “And for another thing, I don’t think you’re here to check in with the Dame, because if you were, you wouldn’t be smiling. The Gold Star I know hates talking to other nobles.”

“Okay, you caught me…” Gold Star sighs, scratching the back of his head. “I actually wanted to talk to Dame Fluttershy because I heard she’s nice… and I’ll likely be in a world of trouble soon.”

“Let me guess,” Bones sighs, putting a hoof to his face. “The Enterprise?”

“Yeah, she’s currently parked… in the middle of Ponyville…” Star coughs into his hoof, doing his best to not look like he was up a creek without a paddle. “Closer to the Everfree Forest, really…” And also in a proverbial leaky canoe.

“So you’re going to bug her to try and get her to put in a good word with the Princess?” Bones asks grumpily, turning slightly looking to Faith who is walking past. “Faith, are you hearing this?”

Without saying a word, Faith’s clipboard levitates over, slaps Star on the back of the head, and then goes back to Faith who hasn’t stopped walking.

“Thank you,” Bones smirks.

“You’re welcome, dear,” Faith says absently, continuing on as if nothing out of the ordinary is going on.

“Good to see you too…” Star chuckles, rubbing the lump forming on the back of his head. His eyes then wander over to where Fluttershy is sitting, and she instantly makes herself smaller so that he doesn’t see her. However, a smile suddenly spreads across Star’s face, and he starts over towards her. By the time he reaches the area Fluttershy and Ember are rolling bandages in, Fluttershy has all but integrated herself into the pile of cloth in front of her.

However, he goes right past Fluttershy and up to Ember, the bright smile on his face reflected by Ember.

“Ember! Perhaps you can save me from the wrath of my former CMO?” Star greets the unicorn enthusiastically. “I mean, you’re a doctor too, aren't you? You can get him to let me talk to the Dame, right?”

“I don’t know, Captain,” Ember chuckles as she hands off the roll she had been working on and stands up to embrace the earth pony. “I think it’s written somewhere in the oath I took that I have to agree with grumpy old country doctors.”

“It’s Admiral, Ember,” Star replies with a chuckle. “They made me an Admiral, same as that grumpy old country doctor.”

“Oh, well, no matter how many pips they put on your collar, you’re still the same ol’ Gold Star I met all those years ago,” Ember shrugs as she releases Star. “As for the Dame, well I obviously can’t stop you from talking to her.” She then smiles at the shivering pile of bandages that is Fluttershy’s hiding place. “But, if you frighten her any more than you already have, I’ll have to start taking bets on how badly Faith will kick your plot.”

“I’ll be nice, I promise,” Star says seriously, putting his left hoof over his heart and holding the right up. “Scouts honor.”

“You were never a scout, Star,” Ember chuckles as she goes back to her work.

“You sound like my mother,” Star sighs, rolling his eyes.

“The Duchess is a smart mare,” Ember smirks. “Not that I’ve met her. I fear you’d never live down all the stories we’d share about you.”

“Bah, why are all the mares in Equestria out to get me?” Star grumbles before walking over and sitting beside Fluttershy’s hiding spot. He is quiet, and simply sits there waiting for Fluttershy to make the first move. After a little while of this, Fluttershy pokes her head out and looks at Star with trepidation and a small amount of fear. Her reluctance is met with a smile, and he inclines his head slightly. “Dame Fluttershy?”

“Y-yes?” Fluttershy squeaks, pulling back slightly into her hiding place.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” Star says warmly, his smile remaining. “I was wondering if I could speak to you, if that’s alright with you?”

“I-I guess so, if you don’t mind me continuing winding bandages…” Fluttershy agrees as she sits back down and picks up a bandage. “Unless it’s not, then I’ll stop… I don’t want you to think I am not paying attention.”

“No, please continue your work,” Star says with a wave of his hoof. “I don’t think I could get away with making you stop your work.”

“Damn right you wouldn’t!” Faith’s voice echoes from nearby, causing both Star and Fluttershy to jump.

“Uhm… anyway,” Star continues, clearing his throat and shifting a little where he sits. “I wanted to talk to you about something.”

“Your ship, right?” Fluttershy ventures, looking down at the bandage she is slowly winding. “I couldn’t help but overhear your conversation.”

“That is exactly it, Dame Fluttershy,” Star says slowly, a sigh escaping him as he picks up an unrolled bandage and absently starts to roll it. “Since you’re a friend of Princess Twilight, and the Element of Kindness, I… figured you would be the best one to speak to.”

“I don’t know how much I can help you,” Fluttershy admits, putting aside the finished bandage and moving onto another.

“Perhaps if I explain the situation?” Star offers, his warm smile remaining.

“That might help? But I can’t make any promises…” Fluttershy trails off, the last barely whispered as she lowers herself closer to the table.

-----

The city is burning. The view of it from second story of his house should leave Evening Star speechless, should shock him to the very core so completely that he should not be able to do what he is doing right now.

Yet, all the black stallion feels is muted, cold, rage festering in the pit of his stomach. His amber eyes reflecting the light of the flames slowly consuming his home city. The shelling had stopped a while back, and Evening had ventured forth from his hiding spot beneath the house, leaving his wife and and the surviving refugees in the care of the few Royal Guards that had made it to their house.

Now, he sits, crossbow perched against the window, eyes staring out into the street, watchful for the movement of the mercs who would dare come to try and burn his home down.

And, to try and catch a glimpse of the pony who had been seemingly protecting the block since the shells had started to fall.

He had spied the shadowy figure a few times, when mercenaries had come around the corner. The figure would dart out of the shadows, blades gleaming in the light of the flames, and strike down ponies before Evening could line up a shot. Or, sometimes, when Evening would shoot at a group of mercs and cause them to scatter, an unfortunate one would suddenly be dragged into the shadows, never to be heard or seen again.

From these glimpses, Evening had determined two things: one, the pony was a pegasus, as he had seen the figure use wings a few times to spring forwards or backwards despite the fact they were wearing a heavy cloak to hide their face and body; and two, the pony was not a royal guard or reservist. The uniform the pony was wearing, at least from the glimpses Evening had caught when the cloak had fluttered up during combat, is a dark purple with yellow or gold lightning bolts on it, almost eerily similar to the Wonderbolts’ uniform. In fact, Evening could have sworn he had seen the pony wearing goggles too.

The sound of hooves on the cobblestone outside draws Evening’s attention back to the present, he aims his crossbow out of instinct rather than conscious thought.

What comes around the corner though nearly stops Evening’s heart.

The armored forms of the absolute largest ponies he had ever seen in his entire life march in front of a group of normally armored mercenaries. Evening has a sinking feeling that no matter how many bolts he puts into the big brutes he’ll never do more than anger them, but he has to try. Reaching to where he put the quivers he had collected from the royal guards, and the one he had started off with, his hoof brushes over the remaining bolts he has.

They number a disappointing few, seven at least, ten at most.

And of course, right after he is finished counting his nearly depleted stock of bolts, the group stops a ways down the street, and the row behind the armored juggernaut ponies hand up what look to be shoulder mounted cannons.

Grimacing and taking careful aim, Evening contemplates what he’ll tell his daughter on the other side. Perhaps apologize? Or, at the very least embrace her and tell her how much he missed her.

A loud cough, doubtlessly amplified by some spell, breaks Evening from his morbid thoughts. Looking for the source, he spots a tan unicorn wearing the uniform of one of the merc’s officers trotting forward to stand just in front of the heavily armed ponies.

“There’s no use hiding,” the unicorn starts, his amplified voice echoing over the distant din of screams and battle. “We know you’ve been protecting this block, so come out! If you don’t, I’ll have my associate's level every building here,” he points towards the house Evening is in, “starting with the one your sniper friend is in!”

Ducking behind the cover of the wall beneath the window, Evening curses under his breath. There is no way in the world the pony that Evening has seen will come out simply because his life's in danger. Heck, if whoever the pony is is smart, they’ll get out of here and go find a better place to fight now that they’ve been put into a corner.

Perhaps he can kill their leader before they fire, at least have the satisfaction of taking out the smug grin on the pony’s face before he dies. Taking a few deep breaths and resigning himself to death, Evening pops back up, crossbow at the ready, but stops just short of letting loose the bolt he has loaded as he spots the scene outside having changed.

The mercs are still where they were a moment ago, but now standing in front of them is a cloaked figure, its back to Evening.

“So glad you’ve decided to join us,” the unicorn calls to the figure with a sneer, “Shadowbolt.” The figure says nothing, does nothing. The unicorn’s sneer fades slightly, eyes narrowing. “Got nothing to say for yourself? No grand justification for the lives you’ve taken?” He points at the figure with one hoof. “Well? Speak! Or I’ll have one of my jaegers make you!” When the figure continues to stand quietly, the unicorn growls and turns to one of the large armored ponies, which are apparently the aforementioned ‘jaeger’ and points to the cloaked figure.

Putting aside its rocket weapon, the jaeger steps forward, its armored hooves echoing ominously against the cobblestone. As it draws closer, the cloaked figure looks up at it, the jaeger standing at least a few feet taller while at the same time slowly getting into a low combat stance.

Taking careful aim with his crossbow, Evening’s hoof brushes lightly against the trigger as he contemplates letting one of his last bolts fly into the jaeger’s helmet, not that it’d pierce the thing, but it might distract the hulking pony for a few moments so whoever the ‘shadowbolt’ in the street is can flee or get the upper hoof.

Yet, right as he starts to apply the proper amount of pressure to the trigger, the figure springs forward, propelled by grey wings from beneath its cloak. In a flash, it’s upon the jaeger, blades springing forth from what look to be gauntlets worn over the Shadowbolt’s hooves, and before the large armored pony can react a blade finds its way between two armored plates in its shoulder. The jaeger growls loudly, and tries backhand the cloaked Shadowbolt, only to find it’s movement turned against it when the Shadowbolt swings up and around, another blade coming out to slice at the straps holding the helmet and faceplate to the armor.

Rearing back, the jaeger manages to force the Shadowbolt to disengage as its helmet flies off. The face beneath is a crosswork of old and new scars, and even what looks to be prosthetic eye. The Shadowbolt doesn’t even flinch -- Evening himself has to hold back a shiver that would doubtlessly caused his crossbow to fire -- and instead squares its shoulders and waits.

When nothing happens for a few moments, save for the snorting breaths of the Jaeger as it seems to think on how best to beat the Shadowbolt to a pulp, the Shadowbolt stands up on its hind legs, unclasped its cloak, and holds it out to one side like somepony fighting a bull. The taunt is clear, as the jaeger roars with fury and charges.

The Shadowbolt turns aside as the jaeger reaches them, deftly side-stepping and allowing the pony’s rage to build as it runs into Evening’s fence. Once more, it charges, and again, it misses. On the fourth time past, the jaeger is able to stop, and turn before it goes too far, a hoof lashing out at the Shadowbolt.

Quickly bringing their own hooves up, the Shadowbolt uses the jaeger’s own strength against it, redirecting the punch away from themselves, and then lashing out with a hoof-blade for the kill before the larger pony can react.

From where he is watching, Evening can see the blade vanish under the jaeger’s chin, likely into the pony’s throat, and the jaeger stop dead with its eyes wide. For a few moments the two stay there, frozen in the moment of the kill. Then, the Shadowbolt calmly reaches up with its free hoof, touches a spot on its gauntlet, and presses the blade forward. A piercing crack echoes through the area as the jaeger’s head whips back, blood spraying everywhere as it falls to the ground.

With the same amount of deliberate calm, the Shadowbolt goes and collects its cloak as the merc officer stares in blank disbelief at the fallen jaeger. By the time the cloak is back around the Shadowbolt’s neck, the officer has recovered enough to point at his foe and shout.

“Well, don’t stand there! GET HIM!” The officer’s voice echoes in the street, and his soldiers obey.closely followed by their less-armored counterparts.

The armored forms of the last four remaining jaegers start forward, their lesser armored comrades close behind. The Shadowbolt wades into them like a dancer, hooves lashing out and felling a few of the lesser mercs before they start to overwhelm him.

Unable to simply watch, Evening aims his crossbow and lets loose a bolt into the head of a merc who has the Shadowbolt in a choke hold. The merc’s head whips around as the bolt strikes, his hooves jerking and tearing the cloak and hood from the Shadowbolt. As the hoof falls from the Shadowbolt’s head Evening takes note of the two toned grey and brown hair held back by a red headband. It’s oddly familiar, but at the moment he can’t stop to think why he should be able to place the pegasus in front of him.

Loading another bolt, Evening takes another shot, this one at a jaeger, the bolt bouncing off of the armored pony and into a nearby merc who is not so armored. The next bolt is aimed at the officer, who instead of raising a shield grabs a fellow pony uses them as a shield.

Meanwhile, the Shadowbolt continues to fight like a devil born from the depths of Tartarus, despite numerous cuts and rips in his uniform, exposing the grey coat beneath. Their blades continue to seek targets, and the occasional loud crack echoes through the street turned battlefield, each sound accompanied by a pony falling to the paving stones never to rise again. Once the regulars are out of the way, the Shadowbolt turns to the Jaegers, completely ignoring the officer who seems content to sit back and watch the carnage.

And Evening, too, watches now that it’s just down to the heavily armored jaegers. His bolts will do nothing save possibly endanger the Shadowbolt, and being down to at least five, he’ll need to save them for the next wave.

The jaegers are not as stupid, or perhaps simply more organized and better trained, than the rank and file, and thus instead of rushing in once their lesser brothers are slain instead form a circle around the Shadowbolt. Evening watches with growing fear as the circle starts to grow smaller, the jaegers stepping in time with each other so that no escape can be found on the ground, the unicorn officer even going so far as to raise a shield over the group so the Shadowbolt can’t fly away.

The Shadowbolt simply sits down, spreads their wings out, and bows their head.

Taking this as a sign of surrender, the jaegers pick up their pace while still keeping together. As they come within striking distance, the Shadowbolt’s wings ever so slightly twitch. Quick as lighting, the Shadowbolt springs into the air, quickly encountering the shield above, front hooves striking it with a sound akin to a stone hitting water, the shield rippling. Without missing a beat, the pegasus uses the momentum still left to flip over, plant their hind legs, and spring off of the semi-solid surface towards a jaeger. As they rocket towards the larger pony, the jaeger draws a much larger blade than what the Shadowbolt has been wielding, and swings it at the advancing streak of purple and gold. Right before the blade strikes, the Shadowbolt shifts, going under the strike, wrapping his arms around the larger arm of the jaeger and swings themselves around, legs wrapping around the jaeger’s armored neck as they go, and using their built up momentum to twist sharply as they swing over the armored pony’s back.

Even before the sickening snap fades from the air, the Shadowbolt is onto the next, performing a somersault between the front legs of a jaeger. The next thing the jaeger knows, a knife is sticking out of their chest, followed by another loud crack as the blade is forced back and a hole forms.

As the jaeger falls, the Shadowbolt makes to escape, however they misjudge how the armored pony is going to fall, and their tail gets caught beneath the heavy body, causing them to fall to the ground with a yelp. Turning and grimacing at the fact their tail is caught, the Shadowbolt barely has any time to react as a jaeger suddenly looms over them. They raise their arms to block as the force of a freight train slams into them, freeing their tail but also sending them backwards and into the shield with a loud whinny and a gasp.

The Jaeger lumbers over, and picks the Shadowbolt up by their neck.

Smiling brightly, the officer lowers the shield and all but prances over to the Shadowbolt being held up in the air.

“Not so tough now, are you?” The officer smirks as he steps over the body of a fallen merc. “I admit, I was skeptical when they told me you would be tough to take down, but you proved to be far more entertaining than I expected.”

The Shadowbolt simply smirks, spitting blood at the hooves of the officer who looks to the jaeger. The large armored pony walks over to a nearby wall, the officer walking beside it, and pins the Shadowbolt to the wall, its other hoof coming up with a long wicked blade.

“Any last words?” The officer asks. “I mean, you’ve not said a word this entire time, so you may as well talk now, if only to beg for your life.”

In response, the Shadowbolt smiles brightly, reaching up with one hoof to pull their goggles off to show bright blue eyes beneath. “Yeah, what the hay took you so long!?”

For a moment, the officer’s brow furrows in confusion, but then a voice comes from behind him, quickly followed by a crossbow bolt to the Jaeger.

“Had to wait for my coffee to brew,” the voice, a mare, replies. Evening quickly looks down the street opposite the jaeger and officer, and smiles as he spots the mare and at least thirty well-armed ponies dressed in Naval uniforms. “So, if you two gentle stallions would put him down, I’d be happy to not turn you both into pin cushions.” She lowers the heavy crossbow in her magic and smiles as she reloads it. “Coffee's getting cold, what’s it going to be?”

For a moment the officer seems set on saying no, but as Evening watches him inspect the navy ponies, the fight starts to leave him. Waving a hoof at the jaeger, he sighs. “Put him down.” The jaeger does so without hesitation, leaving the Shadowbolt, which Evening realizes is a stallion, coughing and rubbing his throat.

“Very good, you JSS types are well trained, aren’t you,” the mare chuckles, waving her crossbow to a place between her and where they currently are. “Now, disarm yourselves, and we’ll see about getting you somewhere nice and cozy for the duration of this fiasco.”

The officer quickly disarms himself, the jaeger does so slower due to having more weapons on them than Evening ever thought possible, and then they back away from their weapons and sit down.

Evening sees no more as he dashes for the stairs and to the ground floor. Now that the battle has subsided, at least as far as his house is concerned, his mind is catching up to what he had seen. He knows that Shadowbolt! Bursting out of the front door and speeding across his front yard, and quickly over to the group that has surrounded the two JSS officers.

Inside the circle, the Shadowbolt is sitting in front of the two captured ponies, his red goggles hanging around his neck and head leaning to one side. The officer sneers at the Shadowbolt, raising his nose into the air as Evening slows his pace to watch whatever is going on.

“Going to gloat now?” the officer asks. “Because I won’t give you the pleasure of seeing me become angry over any petty words you could toss at me.”

“Nope,” the Shadowbolt replies with a smile. “Why should I gloat? It’d only put me on the same level as you foal-stealing murderers. I am very happy sitting on my moral high-ground, after all.” The officer growls loudly in response, which only makes the Shadowbolt’s smile grow before he turns his eyes to the hulking form of the jaeger. “You can take off your helmet now, if you want.”

The jaeger sits stock still at the words, moving only to look over at the officer who shakes his head.

“He can’t hurt you now,” the Shadowbolt continues. “And I’d much like to see the face of the pony who got the best of me.” He puts a hoof to his chest, his smile growing warm and his tone fatherly. “I won’t hurt you, I promise.” The jaeger looks down at the ground, then ever so slowly with shaking hooves reaches up to its helmet, twists it slightly, and lifts it up as air hisses out.

Setting the helmet aside, the jaeger looks to the Shadowbolt as everyone in the group, Evening included, gasps. The face of the mare beneath the helmet is heavily scarred, one particularly nasty one across her neck extends up to stop just behind her jawbone. Her fur, where it is not the pale color of healing scars, is a sickly faded purple, her eyes are a rich turquoise that look down at the Shadowbolt with a look of both profound loathing, but also fear.

Sighing, the Shadowbolt stands up and walks closer. He stops right in front of the jaeger and looks up at her as she flinches, and looks like she wants to be anywhere but where she is.

“What’s your name?” he asks softly.

“E…” The mare starts, her voice rough and uncoordinated. She narrows her eyes, forcing the words out. “Des..ignation…Z-zeta three t-t-wo eight”

“Shut up, Brute!” the officer snaps, causing the jaeger to flinch and look down at the ground with a whimper.

The Shadowbolt looks ready to retort, but Evening has decided he has seen enough, and walks up behind the Shadowbolt.

“Prose?” Evening asks, his voice soft both from the smoke and the strain of the past few hours. “Why are you wearing that uniform?” The Shadowbolt flinches, his shoulders slumping.

“Hello, Evening,” Prose sighs.

----

“I still think you could have stayed in the Castle, Twilight,” AJ sighs, from where she is standing beside her friend. “No reason to go risking the only Princess we have in the entire city in open conflict.”

“If there is any chance at peace by me talking them down, I want to take it,” Twilight replies with a shakes her of head. “Besides, if any of you say Luna is alive and well, and so is Celestia, then they won’t believe you. But I am a Princess.” She then looks up from the map pinned to the table in front of her. “Besides, AJ, I need to be here for the troops, they’ve done so much already, and I fear I ask too much of them.”

“I think you ask of them only what they wish to be asked,” a voice comes from behind Twilight, causing her and AJ to turn as a stallion walks from the shadows, his bright eyes and warm smile off-setting the fact he is wearing the dark purple of the Shadowbolts, and marked as a renegade only by the red headband he wears. “Truthfully, after all that this city has been through, after all the death it has seen, the Guard and Reservists are more than happy to vent their frustration upon Blueblood’s final holdout.”

Blinking and smiling nervously, Twilight regards the stallion. “That might be true, Prose, but this, I hope, ends without bloodshed.” She then sighs and shakes her head. “And how long have you been hiding in the shadows?”

“Too long, my friend,” Prose chuckles. “Truthfully, I’ve been hiding in here for a while now, I thought I saw my wife outside talking with Pinkie Pie and another stallion… and I’d rather not explain to her quite yet why I’m dressed like this.” He gestures to his uniform with one hoof, a frown growing on his face.

“You really should,” AJ says with a frown. “I mean, I might sound like a broken record, being the element of honesty n’ all, but you it’s better to come clean about this sort of stuff rather than let it fester.”

“A part of me knows that to be true, AJ,” Prose sighs as he walks over to stand beside the two mares. “But, the part of me that has kept this hidden wants to keep it out of her life.” He then sighs and looks to the map. “But, you two have far more important things to worry about than my relationship with my wife,” He pauses and looks to Twilight who has opened her mouth. “No, Twilight, I know you’re the Princess of Friendship, but you need to focus on the battle first. I’ll come talk to you later, with Foxfire, if it makes you feel better.”

“Right,” Twilight chuckles weakly, lowering her ears against her head. “So, did you do your scouting run of Blueblood’s defenses?”

“I did, and even got inside,” Prose states, no small amount of pride in his voice. “I was, and am, one of the best infiltrators the Shadowbolts, or rather now the Renegades, have.” He clears his throat and taps a few places on the map. “They’ve put up some crude watchtowers in these positions,” he taps another place, “and here, in front of what’s left of the manor house, is a large stockpile of cannons. Mostly twelve and fifteen pounders, but they’re enough to give our troops trouble.”

“And by trouble you mean…?” Twilight ventures slowly.

“They’ll tear us to shreds, Twi,” AJ sighs, removing her hat and scratching her head. “With your report, and the ones from Thunderlane and Daring’s Reserves it looks like Blueblood’s dug in deeper than a tick.”

“Quite accurate, Blueblood always has been a little bloodsucking pain in everpony’s flank.” another voice chimes up from the other side of the room. “Though, now more than ever. However, it doesn’t offer a solution to our problem.”

“No, it doesn’t, Duchess Star,” Twilight agrees, looking over at the armored mare who is slowly pulling a whet stone over her blade. “Unless you have a suggestion.”

“Could starve them out,” Diamond offers, gesturing with the hoof holding the stone. “See how long Blueblood’s hired hooves last when they’re faced with starvation.”

“You don’t know them like I do, Duchess,” Prose states in a deathly calm voice. “These mercs are cold and heartless. Now that we’ve backed them into a corner and cut them off from reinforcements, they’ll fight their way out, or die trying.”

“I can work with that,” Diamond chuckles, returning to tending to her blade.

“As can I,” Prose agrees, his eyes returning to the map. “However, I am not one to waste life needlessly, even if I would see Janus Security removed from Equestria like a bad stain.” He grimaces and shakes his head. “But, if you three are willing to listen, I might have a plan of attack that could spare lives, and give our troops the needed opening to get inside.”

“What’s the plan, sugar cube?” AJ asks, leaning forward and looking at Prose intently.

“Well, when I was scouting I noticed some of their patrols are lax,” Prose explains slowly, drawing a line with his hoof on the map. “I figure, a small group can slip in, perhaps take out their leadership, even capture Blueblood.”

“Capture?!” Diamond shouts, putting her sword aside and coming over glare at Prose from the other side of the table. “For what he’s done, his head should be mounted on a pike!”

“Duchess,” Twilight says calmly, her expression neutral. “We will determine what shall be done with Archduke Blueblood after a trial, not before.”

“I agree with Twilight, Duchess,” Prose offers, looking up from the map and fixing the Duchess with a flat look much like the Princess. “Part of my work in the Shadowbolts was intelligence gathering, and having Daring as an author I publish for I bumped into Blueblood a lot at social functions. His actions go against everything I know about him, and let me assure you what I know about him could fill Canterlot Library.” He then looks to AJ and Twilight and continues on as if the Duchess had never interrupted. “My suggestion is we send in Daring, as she knows how to be stealthy and has the military training to defend herself, as well as the pony known as Dee Seven, as she has inside knowledge of JSS tactics and structure.”

“You’ve thought this through, it seems.” AJ remarks with a smirk. “But those two are going to need help. Somepony who knows the lay of the camp.”

“You would need a scout for that,” Prose answers, gesturing with a hoof. “One who understands the danger that they’ll face inside.”

“Well, I think most of our regular scouts don’t have an idea of what to find inside,” Twilight comments, smiling widely. “And those who you’ve listed need to stay here with us, or are too wounded to be put into combat.”

“So, where does that leave us?” AJ asks, looking between Twilight and Prose.

“With me going with them,” Prose answers with a sigh, looking at Twilight.

“I wouldn’t ask it of you, my friend, if it wasn’t important,” Twilight says softly, her smile sad.

“I know,” Prose chuckles as he steps away from the table. “I’ll go inform my volunteers, then?”

“You may,” Twilight consents, bowing her head.

Bowing deeply, Prose turns and walks from the room that Twilight, AJ, Diamond, and him had been in for the past hour. From there, he walks through a few other rooms in the large burnt out store they had set up their field base in. He passes quite a few ponies as he goes, most of them are guards from Twilight’s personal guard from Ponyville, but a few bear the scars and bandages that mark them as veterans of Canterlot’s past week. Many of the Ponyville guard greet him with warm smiles, which are returned with enthusiasm as Prose pauses a moment to ask after their family here in Canterlot, or how their children are doing.

The Canterlot Guard, well many of them give him sideways glances, and do their best to avoid him. They whisper amongst themselves as they see the uniform he is wearing, and Prose answers their whispers with his warm smile, even if he walks a little quicker past them.

Pausing as he reaches the door, or rather what’s left of it, Prose pulls up his hood and walks out into the crowded street, blending into the mass of fresh soldiers that are doing their best to integrate themselves with their Canterlot counterparts, leaving everypony too busy with their own tasks to take note of the hooded figure deftly weaving his way through their ranks. The fact that he can still do this brings Prose a small amount of pride, as he hadn’t been on a mission of this scale, let alone any mission, in a year or two.

Quickly zeroing in on his first target, Prose makes his way over to the large mass of Reservists, both fresh from Cloudsdale and weary veterans still able to stand up, and stops a short distance from the mare who is striding back and forth in front of them, her voice carrying over the general din of conversation and activity all around them.

“To those of you who are fresh off the airships, allow me to welcome you to our little corner of Tartarus,” Daring states loudly, a weary smile on her face. “I know a lot of you are trained in non-combat functions, but tonight you’re all here to defend the civilians of Canterlot!” She stops gesturing with a hoof towards the burning sky, the air so thick with smoke, ashes, and cinders that as Prose follows her hoof with his gaze he could almost believe it to be full of orange and red stars. “Because if we don’t stand firm, if we don’t make good on being Wonderbolts, Canterlot may not still stand tomorrow.”

Many of the Reserves shuffle back and forth on their hooves, the fresh wave going so far as to look worried, the battle weary ones simply wishing to no longer stand still.

“Archduke Blueblood and his group have done a lot of damage, but I have faith in our ability,” Daring continues, causing Prose to smile at his friend’s confidence. “As Wonderbolts, we are trained to deal with things the Guards cannot. As Reserves, we are the final line of defense for our neighbors, for our families, and I know many of you have friends here in Canterlot. Perhaps even family. So let’s make sure we give them another sunrise in this beautiful city!” The Reserves, and not a few of the nearby guards and naval ponies, cheer as Daring finishes her little speech. Smirking, Prose walks up to her and taps her on the shoulder, grabbing her attention.

“Miss Yearling, I need to speak to you,” Prose says softly as she steps back and gestures with a hoof for her to follow him. She gives him a confused look, not quite knowing who it is under the hoof.

Turning back to the Reserves, Daring gestures with her head. “Alright, all of you report to your sergeants for orders.” She then turns and plants her hooves. “Dismissed!” As one the Reserves salute, then disperse as Daring turns and follows Prose into a quiet area of the street.

“Sorry for pulling you away from your troops, Daring,” Prose chuckles, lowering his hood.

“Prose? Why in Celestia’s name are you wearing a Shadowbolt outfit?” Daring asks sternly, eyeing his headband and flight suit.

“Because I am, Daring,” Prose replies with a chuckle. “Though, mostly retired.” He winks and sits down lightly tapping her shoulder with a hoof. “Besides, you think you were the only one to secretly be able to fight! I mean, you’ve met my wife, she is a battle in and of herself!”

“Yeah, point taken,” Daring laughs. “So, what do you need me for? I mean, now is hardly the time to talk about my books, and I don’t think we’re dressed quite right to go to a book signing.”

“I don’t know, I think we’re both dressed quite well,” Prose comments with a shrug. “But, no I am pulling you into the thick of it. Me, you, and another pony are going to go into Blueblood’s estate, and end this before it gets any worse.”

Smiling wildly, Daring nods, “Guess that means I’ll have to turn over command, then, while I am in there with you?”

Returning his friend’s smile with a knowing one of his own, Prose puts a hoof on her shoulder, “I’m afraid so, my dear friend. You must turn over command and commission to some other poor… I mean some other officer of the Reserves, for you cannot command while behind hostile lines.”

Turning around and walking up to the nearest Reserve, Daring grabs them by the shoulders, turns them around and says loud enough to be heard over the background noise. “Find Commander Rider, tell him he is in command of the Reserves until further notice! And if he complains, tell him he can take it up with me when I get back from doing a super secret mission!”

The Reserve looks startled, but quickly salutes and runs off, leaving Daring to return to Prose with the widest, happiest, smile he had seen on her since before the attack.

“I can tell you’re really broken up about having to do that,” Prose quips.

“Oh, I don’t know how I’ll ever get over it, Prose,” Daring sighs sarcastically before wrapping an arm around her friend and publisher’s neck, and winking. “So, who else are you roping into this?”

“We have to go over to the area the airship captains are at, Daring,” Prose sighs. “Our other companion will be found there, though it might take some convincing to get her to come.”

Nodding, but saying nothing, Daring releases Prose and gestures for him to lead on.

Leading his friend, Prose once more weaves his way through the crowd like a ghost, nopony ever knowing her was there, and never touching any he passes by no matter how tight the space. Behind him, Daring can’t help but watch with a raised eyebrow as she sees her editor, her friend, show a side of himself that she had never seen, a side that makes her admit that her and Leaf are not the only ones who’ve been on some interesting adventures. The journey is short, though, as the marshalling troops have only taken over a few blocks of the city to surround Blueblood’s forces, as the Archduke’s estate is against one of the walls of the city, lending it a very defensible place, but also with no escape for anypony inside should it come to a siege.

The Royal Equestrian Navy’s air division, along with the Cloudsdale Airguard, had decided to station themselves in a large park in the middle and back of the picket line. Large crude scaffolding had been erected -- by Guard and Naval Engineers -- to allow for the unloading of supplies from longboats and smaller airships. Most of it is medical and food, but some of it is military equipment.

It is into this fray that Prose leads Daring, a wide island opening up around them as the Naval ponies clear a path for him. Unlike the Reserves, quite a few of these ponies had seen him in action against JSS in the hours following Noire’s rescue of him, and those who had not had by now heard of him. This makes it easier for him and Daring to make their way to a picnic area that has been roped off as the officer’s club.

Inside, the various Captains and other officers beneath them are walking around, or sitting at tables, discussing the last time they had been in Canterlot, or some of the action they’d seen during the battle. Some discuss what is yet to come, and that group seems to be the most worried.

“Wait here,” Prose tells Daring softly, putting a hoof to her chest. “I’ll go in and find the other pony we’ll need and be back out in a moment.”

“Suit yourself,” Daring shrugs, sitting down on a park bench and watching the navy ponies as they work.

Nodding, Prose walks over to the entrance, not even bothering to blend into the crowd as he makes his way straight past the two marines who are stationed on both sides of the entrance. He is, by far, nowhere near an officer, but the way he is walking expresses a need to speak to someone inside, and they know Prose won’t cause trouble.

Once inside, it’s a quick shot to a table in the back, where he had seen a certain Captain and her bridge officers sitting not too long ago.

“So, tell me again,” a mare’s voice rings out over the loud din of conversation inside the enclosed area. “How did you ground that priceless ship next to the Everfree Forest? I mean, she’s a seaworthy vessel last I checked, but that Forest is far from the sea.”

“I don’t want to talk about it, Noire,” this voice is a stallion, and as Prose draws closer he can’t help but smile at the group sitting at the table.

“Aww, come on, Admiral!” Noire, the mare, laughs. “I want to be able to tell it at your funeral after the Admiralty Board buries you so deep in your own mistake that you’ll have to get Diamond Dogs to help you dig your way back out!”

“Careful, Captain,” Gold Star, states warningly. “I outrank you still.”

“Only because I like sitting in my captain’s chair instead of behind a desk,” Noire teases as she sips from a mug in front of her. “That way, I don’t have to steal my old ship just to get some action again.”

“If you two are done flirting,” a third voice, emotionless and clinical, starts. “We have a guest.”

All eyes at the table turn to Prose, who walks up and takes a seat between Star and Noire with a warm smile. “Sorry to bother you again, Captain,” he starts, inclining his head to Noire, “but the Princess has bade me to gather together some ponies for a mission, and I fear I must ask you to part with one of your bridge crew for it.”

“Oh?” Noire asks, leaning forward with a raised eyebrow. “And which of my crew are you taking with you, master assassin?”

Nodding towards a pony across from him at the table -- a mare who is just as much machine as pony really -- Prose’s smile slips ever so slightly. “Dee-Seven, I fear. My mission requires somepony who… has an insider’s eye into JSS’s workings.”

Frowning, Noire turns and looks at Dee, who simply raises an eyebrow.

“That seems logical,” Dee states as she looks to her Captain. “Do you have any objection, Captain?”

“Are you really alright going in there?” Noire asks softly, concern in her voice. “JSS did a lot of things to you, and nopony would think less of you if you didn’t want to go.”

“My feelings in this do not matter, Captain,” Dee replies, the ghost of a smile on her face. “If the Princess, and Prose here, require my aid, I would give it to them. Especially if it helps strike down those who have harmed me, and so many others.”

“Well, if that’s your choice,” Noire says with a nod, “then I shall stand by it.”

“Thank you, Captain,” Dee nods as she stands and crosses over to Prose. “I shall let you two to resume dancing around each other verbally.”

Snorting, Prose stands up and looks between Noire and Star. “Goodbye you two, I hope next time we see each other Noire isn’t demoted to Lieutenant and swabbing the deck or something.”

“Oh, what a lovely idea from our resident Shado-” Star starts.

“Renegade, Admiral,” Noire interrupts, pointing a hoof at Star. “And don’t get any funny ideas. I don’t think you want to demote me, all the stories I’d have to tell the junior officers!”

Star raises his hooves and smiles widely. “Why, Noire, why ever would you tell stories about me?”

Noire chuckles, but whatever her reply is to that is lost as Prose and Dee walk back through the crowd and out into the general mill of naval ponies. They’re quick to find Daring, who seems to have gathered a small group of ponies asking for her autograph, and Prose clears his throat to get his friend’s attention.

“Daring, I got our third, you ready to go?” Prose asks, looking at the group she is giving autographs to.

“Yeah, just one-” Daring starts, only to look up and over at Dee. Eyes going wide Daring stands up and walks over, giving Dee a once over before talking again. "You look like you fell into a machine shop on a bad day."

"If that machine shop also served as an alchemical and biomechanical laboratory under JSS jurisdiction, then you would be correct." Dee states calmly, as if this isn’t the first time she has explained this. “However, my appearance has little bearing on the mission, and we should focus on that.”

“I can agree to that.” Daring nods as she looks to Prose. “So, where to now?”

“Well, we go to where their patrols are lax, and we slip in.” Prose says slowly as he turns. “It’s an area down near where the wall and his estate meet. I think it’s guarded by some of your Reserves, Daring.”

“Figures. They must not see my ponies as a threat,” Daring sighs as she rolls her eyes. “But, I guess that’s to our advantage.” She looks to Dee, who simply nods but says nothing as the two mares fall in step behind Prose.

The group leaves the makeshift naval station and quickly re-enter the ruined streets that make up the picket line around Blueblood’s estate, their journey taking them through the ruins of the high class houses and shops now occupied by soldiers laying siege to the last vestige of those who would dare attack Canterlot. With Prose guiding them, they avoid the majority of the crowds and patrols, as they duck through buildings and back alleys, occasionally waiting as a large patrol makes their way past a building.

In this way, they soon find themselves next to the ruins of a Royal Guard armory, its fortress like exterior marred by large scorched holes and burnt out by flames.

Prose brings them to stop in the shadow of the armory, and presses himself against the wall as he pulls up his hood, motioning for the two mares with him to stand in the shadows with him.

“There is a patrol that will soon come past,” he whispers softly, his voice carrying to the mares easily. “Once they’re past, the next one won’t come for at least five minutes, so we’ll have to pass through while the gap is open, and be inside the estate before anypony is the wiser.” The mares nod, and Prose continues without taking his eyes away from where he is looking. “Also, once we’re inside, you need to be as quiet as you can. I know a lot of what we can expect, but I can’t plan for everything, they may have put in security measures that I am not aware of. So, if we trip one, or the alarm is sounded somehow, I’ll draw as much attention as I can, but be ready to fight your way out.” Another nod, and then silence.

The group waits for the patrol to come into view, and then watches as they pass once more out of view again. As soon as the patrol is gone, Prose motions for them to come forward before darting towards the safety of the shadows within the estate before them, Daring and Dee close on his tail. And once they’re through the lines, Prose leads them deep into the shadows, where no causal eye will see them.

At least, until it’s too late.

Progress is slow, however, as Daring and Dee are not as well trained in hiding in the shadows as Prose. Once or twice he is forced to stop their progress so as to allow a group to pass, or even to remove a guard who is in their way. The last takes the longest, as each time Prose is forced to hide the body somewhere a patrol won’t find it. And so, by the time they reach the ruins of Blueblood’s once opulent manor house the moon is nearing it’s highest point through the smoke.

Calling a halt in the deep shadows of what had once been a pool house, Prose looks to his companions, and points to a large pavilion tent situated in the large front lawn. “I think that’s his command tent, unless he’s hiding in the manor house itself.”

“I doubt he is hiding in the manor,” Daring whispers back, looking around the pool house towards the manor. “There aren’t any lights in the windows, and it doesn’t look too stable. I think that tent is the safest bet.”

“While my conclusions are not based on a hunch,” Dee adds, “I would agree with Miss Yearling, the pavilion over there is in the center of it all, and would provide a perfect place from which to command.”

“Then that is our target.” Prose agrees as he scans the area around the tent, grimacing at the large collection of soldiers and JSS personnel in the area. “Now, how are we going to get in there.”

“We need to draw them away,” Dee states, looking to Prose and Daring. “Perhaps Yearling and I could pull them away and allow you to sneak in and grab Blueblood?”

“I think we could do that,” Daring says slowly. “But my wings are still injured, so if something goes wrong I’m not going to be able to simply fly away.”

“I will keep you safe,” Dee states firmly. “I understand from Captain Noire you’re an important pony.”

“Don’t tell her that too much,” Prose chuckles softly. “I have to deal with the aftermath of her ego becoming inflated.”

“I do not think an ego can become inflated, as it is intangible.” Dee states with a frown.

“Then you’ve never been in a room with Daring when she is signing books,” Prose offers as he reaches into his cloak and pulls out some small bundles. “But, enough of that. These are some improvised… presents for JSS. Plant them somewhere, and then get to a safe distance, they should draw all the attention you’ll need.” He gives one to Daring and the other to Dee. “Once they go off, try and make your way back here, but don’t take any risks if you can help it. I’ll sneak in and grab Blueblood and get back here.”

“And after we’re all together again?” Daring asks, casting a worried glance between the explosive in her hooves and Prose. “How are we getting out?”

“We use the confusion to our advantage,” Prose says slowly, before giving Daring and Dee a dead serious look. “And we kill anypony who tries to stop us.”

“Right,” Daring says slowly. “Well, I’ll be off then.”

“As will I,” Dee echoes.

The two mares quickly depart, leaving Prose to continue to hide in the shadows and wait. While he is alone, he allows his thoughts to wander a bit from the mission at hoof, thoughts of how he is going to explain his being a merc to his wife, of the questions Daring will doubtlessly ask of him.

A part of him really does look forward to getting this out into the open, as he hates lying to his friends and family, but his job had made it impossible to tell them while keeping them safe. He had his foals to think about, his wife, his friends. Knowing would have put them at risk, and now that they do know…

The sounds of a loud explosion rips Prose from his thoughts, and he looks over towards the source, smiling slightly at the fact that one of his friends had chosen JSS’s munitions depot for their bomb. He had thought about sabotaging it on the way in, but the opportunity hadn’t presented itself.

Looking out towards the pavilion, Prose watches ponies start to dash towards the explosion, only to have a second one, this time from the direction of the barracks, cause them to stumble and shout as the entire camp is tossed into confusion.

“First round is on me when we get back,” Prose whispers as he puts his goggles on, and springs from his hiding spot towards the command tent.

A few guards remain, the first of which falling before they even notice he is there as a blade suddenly appeared between their ribs, the second only getting out a short shout before they’re silenced by a throwing dagger. And then, Prose is next to the tent’s entrance, ears perked forward under his hood to hear who is inside as somepony not his target rants.

“I can’t believe they repelled us so easily!” the voice, a stallion, rants. “And where the hay are the reinforcements from HQ? I swear to Celestia’s cake-fed-flank we were promised more bodies to take this city!”

“Perhaps, Commander Trap,” Blueblood's voice cuts across the other stallion's, “I shouldn’t have trusted you and your mercs, as clearly you were not up to the task.”

“I don’t need some snot-nosed, pedigreed runt telling me we weren’t good enough!” Trap growls dangerously. “You’ve been in this tent the entire time, hiding! We have bled for you, and done more than you’ve paid us to do! You should be happy we even agreed to this insane venture!”

“No,” Blueblood mutters darkly, “I should be happy you’re all as greedy as you are stupid.”

“I ought to wring your neck you little…” Trap starts, but is quickly silenced as Prose pulls aside the tent flap, wraps an arm around the pony’s neck, and inserts a hoof blade into the back of his neck.

Blueblood sighs from where he is standing on the other side of a large table, not unlike the one Twilight had been using, and slowly crosses around towards Prose. Looking over at him, Prose is surprised to see the Archduke wearing a set of armor not unlike the Royal Guard, its surfaces polished to a mirror-like quality. “Tsk, I had thought the Guard above sending assassins,” he states wearily. “I had hoped they would at least give me one final stand, tossing themselves against me with some semblance of honor.”

“I’m not here to kill you,” Prose states as he wipes his blade off on Trap’s uniform. “Princess Twilight commanded me to bring you in, end all this bloodshed before it grows worse.”

“Any why, pray tell,” Blueblood sneers, “would a Shadowbolt take orders from the Princess of Friendship?”

“A debt,” Prose answers calmly. “A debt I will never be able to repay, Archduke. Surely, you understand.”

“Perhaps I do,” Blueblood concedes as he levitates a blade from the table. “But, you must also understand I cannot allow you to simply take me. I have come too far, sacrificed too much, to simply allow you to whisk me away. And even if I did believe you are here working for the Princess, I will not so blindly walk into the arms of those who killed my aunts!”

Shrugging, Prose gets down into a battle stance. “A part of me had hoped you would say that, Archduke.”

The two stare at eachother for a few long moments, neither one giving ground or moving in any direction, both waiting for the other to make the first move. However, Blueblood soon tires of this and lunges forward with a guarded strike of his blade -- a rapier of fine craft that reflects its wielder -- which strikes nothing but air as Prose moves aside and lunges forward to strike at his target. Sneering, Blueblood side-steps, his blade coming up to slice at Prose once more, causing the Renegade to duck and roll out of the way, his cloak catching on the scabbard of the dead commander, forcing him to discard it.

And so the battle continues, both striking, both defending, both not gaining or giving any ground as they dance around the room, occasionally landing a lucky blow or temporarily forcing their foe back. However, Blueblood being younger soon becomes evident, as Prose starts to flag a little, the fighting that has lasted all day, and that he has been in the heart of, catching up to him. Blueblood takes advantage of this, and lands a clean blow along Prose’s face, cutting a line along his cheek and causing Prose to reel back and swat at the blade with an armored hoof.

“Heh, they should have sent somepony fresh,” Blueblood remarks casually. “Somepony who could give me challenge, at least.”

“Sorry, I’m all they had,” Prose grunts, eyes narrows and wings flared out as he crouches into a combat stance once more.

Sighing, Blueblood levels his blade at Prose, a frown on his face. “At least you can hold your own in conversation, I shall hate to kill you.”

“And I am quite proud of that, so I shall hate to die,” Prose smirks.

“But, die you shall, assassin,” Blueblood says softly as he lunges forward.

Waiting for the last possible second before dodging, Prose shoots forward again. He twists around, not bothering to avoid the blade as it strikes him in the side, trusting his armored flight suit to at least take some of the blow, he delivers a back-hoofed strike into Blueblood’s face, causing the Archduke to skid backwards.

Snorting, Blueblood reaches up with one hoof to his cheek, eyes narrowing as it comes away with blood.

“How dare you strike me, peasant!” Blueblood roars. “How dare you strike your future King!”

“You? King?” Prose coughs, feeling a tightness in his chest from the blade’s impact. “I wouldn’t vote for you.”

“That’s not how it-” Blueblood growls loudly only to be cut off as a gold colored hoof suddenly comes from behind and strikes him upside the head, knocking him cold.

“He’s even more annoying as a villian than he is at parties,” Daring remarks as she kicks Blueblood in the side for good measure before looking at Prose. “You okay there, Prose?”

“Tis but a scratch,” Prose chuckles, holding a hoof to his side. “Though, I think we’d best get out of here, my armor took most of the blow, but I think I’m bleeding.”

“Well, then I guess I’m carrying blueballs here,” Daring sighs as she picks up the limp stallion and puts him over her back with a grunt. “He must’ve inherited Celestia’s addiction to cake, he weighs a ton…”

“Don’t let Celestia hear you say that,” Prose chuckles weakly before coughing. “Where’s Dee-Seven?”

“Outside at the pool house,” Daring replies curtly. “She is watching to make sure nopony sneaks up on us.

“Good,” Prose says softly.

The two exit the tent, and quickly make their way over to Dee Seven, who takes one look at Prose and quickly pulls a roll of bandages out of her uniform.

“You are damaged,” she states curtly as she all but forces Prose to sit down as she applies the bandages. “We will not be able to escape if our guide is unable to run.”

“Thanks,” Prose coughs, allowing the mare to patch him up. Once she is done, Prose stands and nods towards the next set of Shadows. “We need to be quick, if I fall behind, just keep heading in that direction, and you’ll make it out.”

“I’m not letting you fall behind, Prose,” Daring remarks, “because I am not brave enough to explain to Foxfire that I let you get yourself killed.”

“Trust me,” Prose smirks. “I’m not stupid enough to die, she’d just bring me back and kill me all over again. Now let’s move.”

The group starts off at a near gallop, slowed down by Prose’s injury and Blueblood’s bulk weighing Daring down. They make it to the next set of shadows without trouble, and keep going as JSS ponies continue to run frantically around in an attempt to put out the fires Daring and Dee had set, many ignoring the figures that are likewise running if they catch a glimpse of the three. A few try to stop them, though, and Prose does his best to quickly remove those obstacles despite his injury, but a few times he is too slow and Dee takes them out with her augmented strength instead.

Finally reaching the border between the Blueblood’s estate and the Equestrian lines, they’re surprised to find a small group of Reserves waiting for them, armed to the teeth. Their surprise doesn’t slow them down, however, and soon they’re back behind friendly lines as the leader of the Reserve squad pulls out a flare and lights it off.

“Surprised we have a welcome party,” Daring remarks as she shrugs Blueblood off her back and into the ground. “Did Rider send you lot?”

“He did,” the leader, a mare, chuckles. “Said something about pulling your idiotic flank out of the fire, so he didn't have to be saddled with command for too long.”

“Hmm, and here I thought he wanted to lead ponies,” Daring shrugs. “So, what was the flare for?”

“To let the Princess know you’re safely out with your objective,” the squad leader answers as she looks at Blueblood. “She wanted to know when she could press those bastards to surrender when they’re leadership is removed.”

“Lets not count the chickens before they hatch,” Prose wheezes as he sits down, a line of blood dripping down from his side wound and onto the ground beneath him. “We still need to get mister high and mighty here to the Princess…” He coughs, then clears his throat. “And Daring, if you could please have one of these kind Reservists see me to the Princess as well… I could use a medic…”

“Stars above, Prose,” Daring shouts. “That is not a scratch.”

“Okay, it’s a flesh wound…” Prose coughs with a small smirk. “But please, before I bleed out, can we get back?”

“I’ll take him,” Dee offers, walking over to Prose and lifting him up onto her back. “I can get him there faster, and you all should guard the prisoner.”

“Alright, be safe, Dee,” Daring says as she looks to the Reservists.

Prose smiles softly as he lays his head against Dee’s back, and as his eyes drift closed, he takes a little pride in knowing that when he wakes up, the battle will be over; one way, or another.

Author's Notes:

Soooo, now that you've read the ending to the first arc of Canterlot in Flames, I hope you're all ready for more peaceful, but no less interesting, stuff to happen!

Also, I think I shall take the time to tell you who the new characters introduced into the story are, because some of you may have known them, but for those of you who did not, I'll not keep you in the dark.

Captain Cafee Noire: Captain Kathryn Janeway, Captain of NCC-74656 USS Voyager, from the TV Series Star Trek: Voyager.
Commander Coal Feather: Commander Chakotay, First Officer of NCC-74656: USS Voyager, from the TV Series: Star Trek Voyager.
Ensign Knight: Ensign Harry Kim, Tactical Officer of NCC-74656: USS Voyager, from the TV Series: Voyager.
Dee-Seven: Seven of Nine, former Borg crewmember of NCC-74656: USS Voyager, from the TV Series: TStar Trek Voyager.
Captain Bloody Miracle: Captain Montgomery "Scotty" Scott, Former Chief Engineer NCC-1701: USS Enterprise and Captain of Engineering NCC-21445 USS Excelsior, from the TV Series: Star Trek (TOS), as well as all movies with the orignal cast.
Admiral Gold Star: Admiral (Known better as Captain) James Tiberius Kirk, Captain of NCC-1701: Enterprise, of the TV Series: Star Trek (TOS)

Is not a massive Trek Fan, nope

Outside of that, you may find a few references to famous movies in there as well, and I am curious to see who finds them! If you do, please comment in the description, but put it under a spoiler tag!

Oh, and also, I hope you all at least find the fact that Prose was, and continues to be, a Shadowbolt interesting! It wasn't even my idea, too! You can all blame Calm Wind for that, as he asked to use my OC for something, and I didn't ask what it was. Lo and Behold, it turns out he wanted Prose to be a Shadowbolt, so I worked into my own writing, because it's just too much fun!

Anyway, that's the end of this arc for the story! Much more to come, you can be sure of that!