***

“Major Redmond has already explained to us that you are from a parallel world.”
Mr Sato, The Avatar of Albion.

***

The Archives Command Centre, Scotland. January 20th, 2032.

Sat in his office, pondering some paperwork, was the dishevelled form of Prince Blueblood, late of Equestria. As he went over the various requisition forms and other documents, he decided that he hated working on the Governing Council.

It wasn’t the people or ponies that he worked with - he liked his colleague’s well enough, actually. General Anderson was blunt, honest and hardworking, all traits Blueblood had never encountered in high ranking government before, and so was grateful to encounter now. Mr Sato was also an intelligent enough man, good to work with and filled with an honest passion for representing the cause of the people who lived on this island, as well as a humbleness that Blueblood had seldom encountered - or truth be told, had much of himself before coming here. Blueblood didn't hate either of them: if he had to have anyone, pony or human on the high council, he would still pick them to be the other two members over any other candidates he knew of.

Nor did he hate Cheerilee, the civilian representative, or King William of Britain, the nominal head of the British state given the total destruction of most other forms of government on the isle. They were reasonable: Cheerilee had been doing the best she could for the ponies under her care for almost a full decade now, arranging several integration programs so that the ponies of the Resistance Exodus and subsequent escapees were always well taken care of. King William, meanwhile, was knowledgeable enough to leave decision making to the Council and not try to use his status to 'big himself up': if anything, he was something of an Everyman, often getting close enough to the little folk to know their problems. This was a valuable viewpoint, and any advice he gave - and the human members of the council often asked his advice, Blueblood noticed - was wiser than even his near fifty or so years suggested.

No, Blueblood didn't hate those he worked with at all.

He just hated the work.

Tens of thousands of ponies and millions of humans, all riding on the decisions they made, and nothing he did ever felt like it was good enough. So many things could go wrong, and at the stage of the game very few things could go right. Sometimes it felt like he had come here to join in a mass suicide, given how desperate the situation was... but then he remembered with a frown that even a mass suicide defence like this was better than doing nothing against the atrocities he had seen.

He sighed, realising that his paperwork wouldn't get done all by itself.

“Dinky!” he called out. “I need you to take a memo!”

A young unicorn with a quill set inside a heart for a cutie mark stood near him, taking a quill and paper out and beginning a record. Most of their records were paper now, mainly because e-records (as the humans called them) tended not to survive as easily as paper did these days.

“Ok, ready,” she said tiredly.

“Must double check that all ponies are being sent out with at least the barest minimum of protection,” Blueblood said tiredly. “If the casualty reports at London are true, a lot of ponies died for want of basic armours. I’d say they might as well have been fighting naked, except some actually did.”

“Got it," Dinky said. "Where do you want it?”

“Send it to requisition office,” Blueblood said tiredly. “It might get read in the next year if we're lucky.”

“Got it, sir,” Dinky said. She turned away for a moment, then back to him. “Sir, did you happen to get my last letter…”

“Yes,” Blueblood said, scowling slightly. He had hoped she wouldn't bring this up. “Request denied.”

“But sir, I…” Dinky began protesting.

“But nothing, Dinky Doo,” Blueblood cut her off, waving a hoof. “When I took this job, Cheerilee showed me your mother’s will, and she was very clear: you were never to serve in the armed forces under any circumstances. It has been impressed upon me how seriously everypony and every human in this government takes her request, given her status as a hero. I'm not about to go against the general consensus here.”

“All due respect, sir,” Dinky said, her eyes narrowing slightly, “but she's dead.”

Blueblood sighed and facehoofed.

“Yes,” he said softly. “And I think most of us would like to think that she died happily, in the knowledge that you would never join her.”

“Sir,” Dinky said pleadingly, “you've read my letter. You know how much this means to me.”

Yes, he had. An impassioned plea from a young unicorn who seemed to want nothing more desperately than to stand with her pony brothers and sisters. If he hadn't known better he would have detected a slightly self destructive streak behind it, too: Hundreds of ponies just like me are fighting and dying every day to try and stop the Tyrant's armies. What kind of pony would I be if I wasn't willing - no, eager - to go out there and join them? No, Blueblood was not intent on letting somepony with a clear self destructive tendency go onto a battlefield. Especially one as young as her.

“I'm sorry, Dinky,” he said with finality. “You will not be going out there.”

Dinky swore under her breath.

“Damn her,” she said quietly a moment later. “Damn her to Tartarus for what she's done to me.”

“I beg your pardon, Miss Doo?” Blueblood asked with narrowed eyes.

“Damn my mother to Tartarus for this!” Dinky repeated angrily, raising her voice. “She lays down some… some damn edict that I should never have to fight, and then what? Goes and gets herself blown up so that I never get the chance to…” Her breath hitched. “She went out there and died for what she believed in, and that's some big heroic thing, but I believe. I believe as strongly as she ever did! And I have to sit here and…”

“And live,” Blueblood finished, cutting her off. “She wanted you to live. To live free from… from whatever happens to the poor bastards who live on the front lines.”

“I would be out there in a heartbeat,” Dinky said.

“Yes,” Blueblood agreed, nodding. “You would. You’d be out there because you’re angry, and miserable, and desperate. And every day, angry, miserable, desperate ponies sign up, go out there, and die.”

“Then why spare me?” Dinky asked. “What makes me so special that I get to live while all those damaged ponies have to die?”

Blueblood sighed. “Truthfully? It’s nepotism. Of course it is. People knew Ditzy. They loved her. If it had been random Pony Joe asking to keep you here, or if it had been some other mother asking to save some other child, you’d have been outfitted and sent to die.”

“I never asked for special treatment,” Dinky said angrily.

“I know,” Blueblood said. “But you can’t change this. You fulfil a duty that helps keep our defences running. You are serving a valuable purpose.”

“As a bucking pencil pusher,” Dinky swore.

“Yes, as a pencil pusher,” Blueblood replied softly. “D'you think the ponies out there would be nearly as well prepared if there were not ponies like you and me here, ponies who want to fight for something but can't because we are needed here? Nobody’s asking me to fight, but they do need someone to help as I do.”

Dinky paused. “Sir. I just… I want to contribute. I want to make a difference.”

“No,” Blueblood said tiredly. “You want to kill Solaminan soldiers. Vengeance isn’t justice, Dinky, and it doesn’t make you happy, no matter how much you might think it will.”

Dinky looked like she wanted to say more, but she thought better of it. “If you say so, sir.”

Blueblood didn’t rise to that. “You can make a difference from any position, Dinky. Never forget that. And for now… I need you to go get some more paperwork filled in. And prepare for the Council session in two hours - it should be… interesting.”

She nodded and left, leaving Blueblood alone in his office to consider her position. Could he blame her for being angry? No. Could he understand her position? Absolutely. But he couldn’t change what Ditzy Doo had asked of the Council, and Cheerilee had been quite clear when he took over her role on the Council that this was one edict that nopony and no human would agree to change.

The door knocked again and Blueblood cursed slightly.

“Who is it?” he called out.

“Me,” the voice of Cheerilee came back softly. Blueblood sighed.

“Come in,” he called.

The former teacher entered, a soft smile on her face. “Hello, Blueblood. How are you?”

Blueblood smirked good-naturedly at her genial attitude and friendly voice: she always sounded ever so slightly sarcastic to him, but he was used to dealing with an entirely more unpleasant bunch of ponies - he had been one of them after all.

“Busy as usual,” he said. “Had a conversation with Dinky. About her letter.”

“Ah,” Cheerilee said, smile dropping from her face. Knowing her, Dinky had probably approached almost every lower and upper council member with the same letter: a request to be allowed to fight. And like as not, every one of them had written back saying ‘no’: Blueblood hadn't bothered, knowing she would most likely bring it up to him. “I thought I heard her dulcet tones.”

“Yes,” Blueblood said with a sigh. “Makes one wish Ditzy Doo hadn't been so strict with her last will and testament.”

“It was for the best,” Cheerilee said sagely. “We've sent so many ponies to die horrid deaths these last few years: maybe letting one survive is a blessing.”

“We've sent ponies who offered,” Blueblood retorted. “But Dinky's not just offering: she's begging to go. I've not seen someone so enthusiastic for a long time.”

“That doesn’t mean she should go,” Cheerilee said sternly.

He sighed. “You know she resents her mother.”

“Not really,” Cheerilee replied sadly. “She resents her mother's wishes. She misses her mother: I think her desire to fight wouldn't be nearly as strong without the death of her mother hanging over her. She feels strongly that her mother died for a cause - maybe she feels fighting in that same cause will bring her closer to her.”

“Maybe,” Blueblood said, trying not to sound dismissive. “It's a little above my head if I'm honest.”

“You don't feel the need to fight for a cause?” Cheerilee asked.

“I feel the need to fight for different reasons,” Blueblood retorted. “After all, I was part of Empress Solamina's council. I might have seen the first few true atrocities she committed.”

“The last stand of the Night Guard,” Cheerilee said sagely.

Blueblood nodded, but didn't say anything. The ‘Last Stand of the Night Guard’, as he told it to most people, was a heroic battle, the brave rebel Night Guard refusing to bow before the Tyrant. The picture Blueblood had painted of the Night Guard's destruction was a heroic struggle, valiant and brave.

The truth was rather different. The whole thing had been short, and pointless… and brutal.

It had been the first sign - at least to Blueblood - that she was starting to go insane. It was around that time that the barrier had begun it's expansion across the Earth.

It would be another two years before the barrier would be stopped at the British isles, and shortly after that Celestia declared herself as Empress Solamina - claiming it to be the will of her people, and to be fair, the majority of converted had long ago subscribed to the idea that she was a kind of God, spurred on by fanatics and flagellants led by a pony who had been a priest, now calling himself Sol Invictus: ‘Victory of the Sun’. Blueblood had been increasingly uneasy, but only after the Council was dissolved and he saw the ruin of Equestria that he realised he had to flee.

He shook his head, bringing himself back to the present. Cheerilee - like everypony else, even the scant dozen or so original Night Guard who still survived, mostly Luna's special Thestral ponies who had acted as remote guards - still believed the romanticised version of the story he told. He considered it a small repayment of a debt he owed them: giving the history of the Night Guard, and their end, a more heroic edge. That, and making the heraldry and name of the Night Guard his personal bodyguard and a unit he had reinstated as part of the Resistance, had ensured the name “Night Guard” would never be forgotten.

“That was the start,” he agreed. “Maybe if I'd have realised it there, I could have left earlier. But I didn't.”

“No, you left four years ago,” Cheerilee said. “With your name as a council member to aid the propaganda machine by creating the Government-In-Exile, and intelligence that saved many lives and led to the death of Applejack, Rainbow Dash and eventually Pinkie Pie.” She smiled kindly at him. “I don't think you've that much debt left to repay.”

Blueblood smiled at her assessment: she was too kind to him, he thought to himself. She knew, as he did, that he was indirectly responsible for many atrocities. No: he would have a long list of things to make up for should he ever become ruler of Equestria.

“Just one debt left,” he said tiredly to her. “I'm going to see Solamina toppled if it's the last thing I do.”

She nodded slowly. “I hope to see that day too, Blueblood.”

Blueblood smiled, then looked down at his mound of paperwork, before looking back up at Cheerilee.

“Anyway,” he said. “How can I help you?”

Cheerilee let out a breath. “I thought you should know: the helicopter with David Elliot’s team is en route. And they’re being accompanied by Princess Luna.”

Ah, yes. That little matter.

“I still can’t believe what Elliot said,” Blueblood said to Cheerilee. “An entirely new Equestria…”

“And Princess Luna herself,” Cheerilee added. “That one will definitely cause a stir when they arrive.”

“Yes, true,” Blueblood said. He had heard from Elliot’s own mouth about the whole damn thing, and he still found it impossible to entirely believe. “I suppose, then, that we’d best get ready to go meet them.”

“Agreed,” Cheerilee said quietly.

As she walked out and Blueblood got up to follow her, he felt a nagging sense of foreboding.

This is not going to be fun.

***

Being in one of these helicopters was… claustrophobic, Princess Luna decided. She was cramped onto two seats, legs and wings tucked in uncomfortably.

There were more than a few soldiers in here, most of whom Luna didn’t recognise, though Lieutenant Heartstrings and Ser Eric we’re both sat further away, as was the pony who had called himself ‘Hell Blazer’. The older pony, the one who’d called himself ‘The Doctor’, had said he would meet them there,

“Not a fan of the travel arrangements, your highness?” David Elliot asked her. The man was sat opposite her, legs up on his chair nonchalantly.

“I’m fairly certain I could have flown the distance myself,” Luna replied.

“No doubt,” Elliot said with a nod. “But you wouldn’t want to - not when everyone and their mother is watching the skies for False Alicorns. That’d be a case of friendly fire that’d sting a bit.”

Luna raised an eyebrow. “Is that so, Commander?”

Elliot rolled his eyes. “Please don’t start using that bloody title. I hate being called ‘Force Commander’. Sounds like a sodding video game.”

“Isn’t that the one with the lekker remix of Imperial March?” the shaggy-bearded form of Viktor Kraber asked from behind him.

Elliot glanced over his shoulder. “That’s right.”

“That’s cool!” Kraber said with a chuckle. “Always loved that one. Though Vinyl’s remix is easily the better one. Fokkin’ love the bass.”

Luna sighed. “I do not see why this Council of yours was not content with meeting over the… what was it called?”

“Comsat?” Elliot asked. He shrugged. “Maybe they wanted to be one hundred percent on this one. Can you really blame them? I mean, you’re… y’know. You.”

“As opposed to being somepony else?” Luna asked dryly.

“As opposed to being a fake,” Elliot replied. “Prince Blueblood knew you in person. He’ll be able to tell the difference between you and a False Alicorn recreation.”

“If he doesn’t faint dead away,” Kraber snorted. “Little moegoe’s always been a bit of a -”

“Kraber,” Heartstrings put in from where she was sitting. “Stow the bloody potty mouth for two seconds. And try to remember that the ‘little moegoe’ you’re talking about is the Exodite crown prince?”

“If you say so, Lieutenant,” Kraber shrugged.

Elliot smirked at Heartstrings, who sighed. “Do I even want to know what ‘moegoe’ means?”

“Would it help if I pointed out it’s not even a swear word?” Kraber asked.

“Not really,” Elliot said.

“Are we nearly there?” the irritated mare asked.

Elliot shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe?”

Heartstrings rolled her eyes. “Pilot!” she bellowed. “ETA to Archive base!”

“Thirty minutes, Lieutenant!” the pilot, a woman with cropped hair, yelled back.

Heartstrings threw Elliot a glare, and he chuckled.

“You could have just asked that yourself,” she said.

“You’re much better at having an authoritative voice than me,” Elliot told her with a wink.

Heartstrings groaned, but it was a good natured groan. As Elliot laid his head back and closed his eyes, most likely to have a brief nap, Luna kept her eyes on Heartstrings. The mare’s gaze lingered on Elliot a fraction longer than was strictly necessary, and Luna felt her heart lighten, just a tad.

It is good to see that love can still exist, here, she thought. Even if it is buried under other things. Sighing, she rested her chin on the chair. Let us hope thirty minutes passes quickly.

***

It didn’t, unfortunately. Indeed, when Luna got off of the helicopter she could have sworn that she felt some sort of travel sickness.

“I definitely wish I had flown,” she muttered to Elliot as he got off the machine behind her.

He simply shrugged. “I was never fond of flying myself.” He looked up at the sky. “Still, better safe than sorry. Anyway,” he said, looking back at her with a tired smile. “The meeting we have with the Council is in another hour. It’s probably for the best if you wait here while I go pave the way, so to speak.”

“If you insist, Major Elliot,” Luna said quietly.

He nodded, and without another word walked off, Lieutenant Heartstrings following him.

Luna took a deep breath, and looked around the compound. According to Elliot, they were in a place called ‘Scotland’. It was certainly remote: apart from this compound and a dirt track leading up to it, there was no sign of civilisation.

The compound itself seemed to be rather small: a single building, surrounded by a metal fence, with a single gate that met the dirt track. Ponies and humans in various uniforms were moving about the place, speaking with each other or dashing off on what Luna could assume were important tasks. She glanced overhead, and saw that there were Pegasi in colour-coordinated shirts flying above the base.

“Doesn’t look like much, does it?” she heard Kraber ask. She turned to look at the man, who was looking around ruefully, a Lewis Gun still in his hands.

“It seems… small, given that it is supposedly one of thine key bases of operations,” she said delicately, reverting to her more formal language.

“It’s bigger than it looks,” Kraber said with a smirk. “But yeah, it doesn’t look all that befok. We’re all siek en sat, not to mention sort of at the end of our tether.”

Luna gave what she hoped was a reassuring smile. “Thou art no longer alone. We are going to help thee in thine struggle.”

Kraber raised an eyebrow. “Yeah? Well, that’s all well and fokkin’ good, but it doesn’t change the fact that there’s a lot of shit going wrong. A loooot.”

Luna’s smile faded. “That much, I already knew.”

“You haven’t seen the fokkin’ half of it,” Kraber said sadly. He sighed. “Anyway, I’ve got to go. I’d like to take some sit gat, rus bene... But there’s a few people I want to see.”

He walked off, leaving Luna once again to contemplate just what she had gotten herself into. These people… there was an odd mix of resignation and determination amongst them. So many of them - like Elliot - seemed to have optimism still, despite everything.

I only hope we can prove their hope true, she thought.

She sighed, and went to find a bench to sit on and stretch out.

As she trotted through the base, she couldn’t help but notice more than a few ponies and people alike staring at her. Some looked hostile, which - although she wasn’t happy about it - she understood, but others were gazing at her with hope, or even with reverence.

Elliot said I was dead, here, she thought, frowning slightly. What must my being here look like to these people, to these ponies? It would be like Epona herself walking among the ponies of Equestria…

She paused in her walking as she saw two ponies approaching her. One was a dark-maned, scarred Thestral stallion, and the other a turquoise Pegasus mare with an auburn mane and burns across one half of her face. Both wore full-body tunics, the Thestral in red and the Pegasus in dark green.

“Princess Luna?” the Thestral said. “It… it can’t be you?”

Luna inclined her head. “Semper Noctis, Thestral-frater.”

The Thestral bowed his head. “Noctis Aeterna, Thestral-regina.”

“She’s the real deal, then?” the Pegasus asked.

“She spoke old high Unicornic, the ancient greeting of the Thestrals,” the Thestral replied. He looked to Luna. “Fell Spear, your highness. Red Squadron, Red Four.”

“Lightning Dust,” the scarred mare added. “Green Squadron, Green Two.”

“An honour,” Luna said quietly. She looked between them both. “Art thou both battle flyers, then?”

“That’s right,” Fell Spear said, nodding. “The ERAF Squadrons are some of the best combat flyers out there.”

“The best,” Lightning Dust corrected him. “The best flyers, the best moves, the best ponies. We’re the ERAF’s ace-in-the-hole, one hundred and ten percent.”

“ERAF?” Luna asked, frowning at the unfamiliar term.

“Equestrian Resistance Air Force,” Fell Spear explained. “We’re the answer to the Royal Guard’s Pegasi and the Wonderbolts.”

At the name ‘Wonderbolts’, Lightning Dust spat on the ground with such vehemence that there was a small crater where the spittle had impacted. Luna raised an eyebrow.

“Sorry,” Lightning Dust said quietly. “Bad memories.”

Luna nodded slowly, taking in what they had said. “I’m sure with thine valiance, thou art both a credit to the war effort.”

“Nice of you to say,” Lightning Dust said grimly. “You’ve probably never seen an air battle in this war before, have you?”

Luna shook her head. “I have not been here long enough to see more than the ending on the battle in the city of - London, wasn’t it?”

“Yeah, it is. Don’t worry. We know the story,” Lightning Dust said tiredly. She gave the Princess a wry smirk. “Rumours fly faster than helicopters.”

“Not that I believed it,” Fell Spear said shamefacedly. “I… I did not believe you were really here. You or… or another Equestria. I’m sorry.”

“I understand why it would be hard for thou to believe,” Luna said with a sympathetic smile.

“Yeah, well, you being here is proof,” Lightning Dust said. “Considering… well, y’know…” She paused. “You do know what happened to the, uh, other you, right?”

“I… have heard that my counterpart in this world is dead,” Luna said slowly. “Although I must admit, it is hard to believe.”

“Believe it,” Fell Spear said angrily. “Me and a few other members of the Night Guard were on operations at the time. When we heard, we went back, only to find that you were dead from some ‘illness’, and the Night Guard had ‘rebelled’, getting slaughtered to a Thestral.”

Luna snorted. “A cover story, no doubt. It would take a very special illness to lay an Alicorn low.”

“That’s what we thought,” Fell Spear said. “And that’s why we were some of the first to join the Exodites.”

Luna frowned in confusion at the unfamiliar term, and Lightning Dust helpfully spoke up.

“The name for the first big batch of escapees,” she said. “Between Doctor Hooves, Cheerilee and Lyra Heartstrings, a lot of ponies were convinced to flee to what was left of the human world, here in Britain. And it was Cheerilee and the Doc who got them to give us… well, all the stuff we have.”

“New military organisations, supplies, a place in their civilisation, a place in their command structure,” Fell Spear agreed, nodding. “They were… well, I’d be lying if I said there weren’t some humans who didn’t like us very much.”

“But the majority have backed us up,” Lightning finished.

Luna nodded. “Then, in thine estimation, myself and mine sister have made the right choice, committing to helping these humans?”

Lightning shrugged. “I wouldn’t know how to answer that, your highness. All I’d say is, Solamina’s propaganda paints humans all one colour, and that colour is mud brown to be trampled on. Truth is, humans and ponies aren’t so different - they don’t deserve getting wiped out any more than we do.”

That had been Luna’s experience thus far as well, but it was good to know that the ponies on the ground believed so as well.

“That being the case, I am glad we are here,” she said quietly. “We will help thee defeat the Tyrant Solamina.”

“We appreciate that, your highness,” Fell Spear said with a bow.

“Princess Luna?” another voice said, and Luna turned to see Lieutenant Heartstrings standing nearby.

“Lieutenant,” she said, inclining her head in greeting.

“The Council is waiting for you,” the Lieutenant said. “If you’ll follow me.”

Luna gave a final bow to Fell Spear and Lightning Dust, before heading off, following Heartstrings to the main compound building.

***

Once inside the main complex, Heartstrings led Luna to a nearby elevator.

“This lift will take us down to the Council level,” Heartstrings said, pressing one of the buttons.

“I see,” Luna said softly.

The elevator began moving, rattling slowly down the shaft. For a long moment, there was an awkward silence between the two mares.

“Thanks for your help,” Heartstrings said after a moment. Luna gave her a sideways glance, and she sighed. “In London. You helped. Thanks.”

“You are welcome,” Luna replied, nodding. “We could not leave your people - either of your peoples - to your fates, not once we knew what was happening.”

“Yeah, I know,” Heartstrings said softly. “And I appreciate it. We all do.” She paused. “Can I ask you a question?”

“Of course,” Luna said.

Heartstrings took a breath. “Do you think you can kill Solamina?”

Luna frowned. “Do I… why do you ask?”

“Just answer the question, please,” Heartstrings said tiredly. “It’s actually kind of important to me.”

Luna let out a sigh. “Honestly?” She paused. “I do not know.”

“You don’t know?” Heartstrings repeated.

“I personally did not defeat Celestia in battle when I was Nightmare Moon,” Luna pointed out. “And I was more powerful in that form - in raw power if not in skill.” She let out a breath. “Perhaps, possibly, myself and Celestia acting together could match an Alicorn of Celestia’s power… but it is not a sure thing.”

Heartstrings lowered her head. “Right.”

“Why do you ask the question?” Luna asked gently. When Heartstrings did not answer, Luna sighed. “You fear for David Elliot.”

Heartstrings’ head jolted up. “What makes you say that?”

“I have known many ponies,” Luna pointed out, “and recognise many different ways of showing affection. You care for him, do you not?”

Heartstrings blushed. “I don’t see how that’s relevant. Or any of your business.”

“It is not,” Luna replied, inclining her head. “I apologise for intruding.”

“Damn right,” Heartstrings said, scowling. A moment later, she gave Luna a sideways look. “Don’t tell him.”

“My lips on the matter are sealed,” Luna promised.

“They’d better be,” Heartstrings said. “Or Alicorn or not, I’ll kick your arse.”

The word sounded odd in Heartstrings’ accent, but Luna took the meaning and gave a small smile.

As the elevator came to a halt, she followed Heartstrings out. The two of them walked down a corridor leading to what looked like a waiting room, where David Elliot was sitting on a battered, threadbare chair. He threw them a casual salute.

“Hey,” he said. He smiled at Heartstrings. “Any trouble finding her?”

“The flowing mane and whole ‘Alicorn’ thing kinda gave her away,” Heartstrings retorted. She glanced between Luna and Elliot, before sighing. “I’ve got some paperwork to catch up on. Catch you later?”

“Count on it,” Elliot said with a smile.

Heartstrings nodded and turned to go.

“Lieutenant,” Luna said, and Heartstrings looked at her, frowning in confusion. “In dark days such as these, being honest with yourself and others is always best. Even if you are afraid, you must embrace whatever time you have.”

Heartstrings sniffed. “Yeah. Sure.”

And with that, she trotted off. Luna sighed and sat down on one of the larger chairs, before turning to look at Elliot, who was giving her a quizzical look.

“What was that all about?” he asked.

Luna shook her head. “Nothing important, Major.” She looked to the door. “I take it your Council is within.”

“They are,” Elliot said softly. “I imagine they’ll have a lot of questions.”

“And I shall have many of mine own,” Luna promised him.

The door to the Council chamber opened, and a young mauve Unicorn popped her head out of the door, frowning slightly as she regarded them both.

“The Council will see you both now,” she said stiffly.

Elliot took a breath. “Well then, Princess. Time to pay the piper.”

“Lead on, Major,” Luna said.

He entered the room, and Luna followed, her head raised high.

Time to make this alliance official.

***

Lyra Heartstrings made her way back to the lift. As she trotted, she mulled over the words that Princess Luna had spoken, trying to see whether there was actually anything to them.

Did she… did she care for David, in the way the Princess had insinuated? No, it was impossible, wasn’t it?

Why is it? a small, treacherous part of her mind wondered. You’ve always been a xenophile, especially for the bipeds: don’t pretend those Jorugumo pictures you got imported from Yamato weren’t more thrilling than any issue of Super Stallions you found stuffed under Bon Bon’s bed.

She scowled, but had to concede the point. But even given that, this was David Elliot. He was the hero of a nation. He was the last hope of a species. What chance did she have?

Don’t bullplop yourself, her mind told her, almost irritably. You know full well he isn’t any different from anyone else. He’s silly, he’s funny, and he just wants a normal life.

But that was just it, she thought as she entered the lift. He was different. He might have wanted a normal life, but he knew as well as she did that he couldn’t ever have one.

Says who? the voice thought. Face it - you have to stop pining like a lovesick filly, stop making excuses for why it couldn’t work. You're a fighter: if you want something you fight for it. You make it work.

“Fighting Guards is one thing,” Lyra said quietly to herself. “Fighting this? Something else.”

You’ve fought harder battles.

“Completely different thing.”

No! No different! Only different in your mind.

Lyra laughed slightly to herself. I should never have watched Star Wars.

When it came down to it, though, there was only one question at the heart of her quandary. Did she have the courage to tell him how she felt?

She only wished she knew the answer.

***

The Council chamber was much as Luna had expected: a dark room, relatively large, with a single round table in it, around which were sat individuals she could only assume were members of the Council.

There were two humans: one was a man with slightly different types of features to Elliot or many of the other humans she had met, which she guessed made him a native of a different land. He had a thin moustache and goatee, and was clad in a threadbare business suit. The other was blonde haired and square jawed, with a stern expression and what looked like a military uniform on.

Then there were the ponies - a magenta mare and an alabaster stallion, the latter of whom wore a stylised Night Guard uniform. Luna recognised Prince Blueblood - her own great-grandson was something of a well-known fop in aristocratic circles - But was surprised by the seriousness of his stern expression.

Everypony has hidden depths, she reminded herself. Perhaps not all the steel of his forebears is lost after all.

“Major Elliot,” Blueblood greeted. He looked at Luna. “And Princess Luna. It is… good to see you alive and well.”

“Prince Blueblood,” Luna said, inclining her head. “We find it good to see thee in such regalia, and in such good company.”

Blueblood smiled. “May I present Representative Cheerilee,” he motioned to the magenta mare, who bowed, “Representative Hiroto Sato,” the man in the business suit bowed as well, “and General Paul Anderson.”

The military man grunted, and Luna could tell he did not entirely trust her.

“We’re sure it’s her?” he asked.

“I am, sir,” Elliot said.

“And it certainly sounds like her,” Blueblood added. “Though…” He coughed. “Ave Princeps et Lunae.”

“Ave filium sanguinis,” Luna replied in perfect Old Unicornic. “Your pronunciation needs work.”

Blueblood nodded. “That’s about right. No False Alicorn would know the proper reply.”

“Unless Solamina taught them it,” Anderson said darkly.

“This would be a fairly foolish move on her part,” Sato put in, his voice tinged with a slight accent that Luna didn’t recognise, “to send such an obvious trap.”

“Perhaps that’s what she wants us to think,” Anderson growled.

“Gentlemen, please,” Cheerilee put in, smiling warmly. “You have both the Prince’s assurance and Major Elliot’s, and we’ve all read the AAR’s from London. As prudent as caution is, I’m inclined to trust Princess Luna’s integrity, and her identity.”

Luna inclined her head again. “We thank thee, Representative, for thine faith.”

Cheerilee chuckled. “I am perhaps too much of a hopeless optimist, still, your highness.”

“I believe optimism is not a bad thing when the alternative is despair,” Sato said, smiling softly. He looked at Luna. “And I believe we would all be grateful for more good news.

“We are happy to oblige,” Luna said, returning the smile.

Anderson scoffed and looked away, but didn’t say anything more. Blueblood, ignoring him, sat forward.

“So,” he began. “What is it you wish to accomplish, your highness?”

“What is it that we wish?” Luna repeated. “Let us ask a counter question, your highness. What is it that thou wouldst require of us?”

Anderson looked back at her. “All due respect, ‘your highness’, but we know you helped our people in London. What I want to know is why.”

“‘Why’?” Luna repeated. “Thine world is imperilled, General. Dost thou deny it?”

“I deny nothing,” Anderson said. “But - at the risk of looking a gift horse in the mouth - I don’t trust sudden help that shows up, no questions asked.”

Luna looked at Elliot, who only shrugged, before looking back at the Council.

“We - mine sister and myself - have been made aware of the crimes of the mare styling herself Astra Solamina Maxima,” Luna said slowly. “And we will not allow them to continue. We cannot, in good conscience, stand idly by.”

“So, what?” Anderson asked. “You’re doing this out of the goodness of your hearts?”

“Is that so hard for thou to believe?” Luna asked him. “Art thou so cynical?”

“After eight years, millions, billions of deaths? Coming to terms with the knowledge civilization won’t pull itself together for centuries? Sleepless nights where I had to beg myself not to think we’d already lost?” Anderson retorted. “You’re damn right I’m cynical.”

Luna nodded. “The point is conceded. And yet the truth remains: what Solamina is doing to your kind… the destruction of so much of your world, the abomination that is what is happening with the Converted… is abhorrent, and must be stopped. That is our cause.”

Anderson sighed. “Fine. I guess I’ll believe that. Thousands wouldn’t, as they say.”

“I, for one, am satisfied with the reports we've received,” Sato put in. “But am curious as to our next step.”

Luna smiled softly. “That depends on our sister’s success at her own diplomatic table. But you will have the backing of the entirety of Equestria’s army, at the least.”

“That’s a big claim,” Cheerilee said, raising both eyebrows. “But I’m curious… what do you mean about your sister’s success?”

“She intends to seek aid from other nations of Equus,” Luna replied.

Blueblood nodded. “We’ve… explored that avenue ourselves. But in our world… Solamina has already decimated many of the other races. Destroyed an entire city of the Qilin, pushed the Griffons on the defensive…” He sighed. “Under the circumstances, they aren’t able to help us.”

“Which is a sore blow, given what we’ve learned about their armies,” Anderson put in. He was looking at Luna in a different light. “If you… if you really do have the capacity to bring more soldiers into this war…”

“Our sister will try to convince them,” Luna reiterated. “But there is no guarantee of success.”

Anderson laughed. “Hell, anything’s better than nothing, right?” He sighed. “Alright. Major, I read the report, but it was a lot vaguer than I’d like. I want a rundown of just what the hell happened to you.”

Elliot sighed. “That… is going to take a while.”

“Then you’d best get started, Major,” Cheerilee said with a raised eyebrow. “We don’t have all the time in the world, after all.”

***