In the end, the soldiers were not authorized, nor trained, to serve as literal diplomats to a hostile body. "Look, let's stick to the immediate concerns."

Twilight perked at that, ears up. "Alright. What will it take to stop people from being hurt?"

The soldier lifted a hand. "I can't argue that one way or the other. I can take a statement. I can also ask ask that you send word to your people for them to stop. Can you do that?"

Twilight smiled gently at that. "I would be delighted to do that. They must be worried about me. May I have a piece of paper?" A quill floated up from her pocket, much to their surprise and alarm.

Interrogation targets were not supposed to have random objects on them! The fact that it floated was just another layer of the distressing situation. A quick peek was enough to know the object wasn't metal, so how it had not triggered any detectors made sense enough.

Still... "Is that a feather?" There it was, a hug fluffy feather, floating in glowing magic.

George held up a hand. "It is, and she will write with it. Let's not get too upset about her doing what you asked her to do."

But it wasn't one of her feathers. She was purple, it was bright white. Despite this, a paper was brought in and placed in front of her. The feather began to dance and bob, scribbling her Ponish thoughts. "Why do they look so alarmed?" she asked towards George. "Haven't they seen a quill before?"

She casually folded the letter. A beam of purple magic evaporated it with a look of extreme concentration from Twilight. "That is so much easier with Spike around... Not that it was going to Celestia anyway."

They would have to reconsider how to interrogate magic ponies.

The mare cracked open an eye. The pain she had expected hadn't come, instead the strange and horribly dangerous alien had... kissed her leg? Right where she had skid it in her backpedaling. That was... nice... "Thank you." She felt a blush in her cheeks. He wasn't... that horrible, right?

He said something she didn't grasp, but then something she did. "Are you good?"

She rose up to her hooves, shaking. "Please put that away." She pointed at his dagger, still clutched in on of his hands too firmly. "Please."

He looked conflicted, parts of his mind working at odds. He shouldn't be defenseless when detected, clearly, but the pony was also kind of cute and the way she asked was nice, but, no, focus! He rose to his own shaking legs, both of them reeling from the interference of a pink princess.

"That is quite enough," spoke Cadance as she stepped into view, seeing trusting her magic to make everyone happy would certainly not suffice. "Can you understand me? I heard a word or two."

He wheeled his dagger to face the larger pink menace. The little crown on her head, while comedic on some levels, made it fairly clear what he was dealing with. If he could... He measured the distance between him and her, considering.

"Can you understand me?" she repeated in soft tones. The mare, detecting the chance and with the magic of love fading, took the opportunity to flee in slow backsteps.

What exactly was the correct answer? Pretending to not understand her gave him the option of silence, which could be better, but left him unable to negotiate either. This plan had not gone well... Priority 1, get away. She was not exactly between him and the exit, so he bolted for it.

A beam of magic power scorched the ground just in front of his retreating feet, sending him tumbling forward with a twist to avoid it. He was rolling back to his feet, but smashed into a glowing pink box. "No," she said firmly with a frown. "No. Stay." It was a funny thing. The word 'no' sounded the same in so many languages. Even in Ponish, there were hints of 'No' in 'No'.

The sounds of hooves announced the arrival of the guards, both crystal and not, flooding around the soldier with scowls and raised spears. The box faded away with a soft little noise. "Sit." She pointed to the ground firmly. "Sit."

His odds were only deteriorating. He had his one chance and that hadn't worked out...

A new bubble appeared around him, shimmering and bright. "I have this." Shining Armor stepped forward, his shield far more effective. "You are under arrest. What were you trying to do?" He shook his head. "Nevermind. This isn't the place." He hefted up the soldier in his bubble with a soft grunt. "To jail with you first."

A sudden kick made Cadance stumble forward. The mare from before had snuck up on the princess and lashed out, catching a knee. "Warn a mare before you do that, with some strange... thing." The mare's ears were pinned back, scowling at Cadance. "I wanted to hug... that!" She thrust a hoof at the floating prisoner that was being carried away.

The other guards looked ready to intercede, but Cadance raised a hoof. "I will accept that, but it was to keep you safe. I would rather an awkward hug than to have to treat injuries... or worse." She inclined her head towards the peeved mare. "Are you alright?"

"Yeah... Um... sorry." She glanced away. "For kicking you..."

"I will forgive if you do. You may tell your friends you kicked a princess and survived the trip." She smiled gently, not at all angry at her subject. "Truly, are you alright? When I saw him coming towards you... I did what I could in that instant."

"I was... so scared..." The mare sank to her haunches. "What are you going to do with that... whatever...?"

Cadance reached to gently stroke the top of her subject. "I was scared as well... I've lost too many good ponies, and I would not lose another." She glanced where Shining Armor had gone with the prisoner. "I hope he understands us, even if he now is quiet. We have too many questions."

The mare pointed where he had been. "They like their... death machines. You'd better make sure he doesn't have any."

Cadance blinked softly. "That is an excellent point. I'll go make sure of that, you're free to go, but if you need anything at all, you come directly to the palace and let me know." She trotted away hurriedly towards the jails.

Shining Armor set his sullenly quiet prisoner in his cell. "This would go far more smoothly if you could talk." He shut the bars of the cell before perking an ear, spotting one of the smaller hand cannons. "We don't need that." He yanked it out of its sheath and held it floating in the air beside himself.

"Keep an eye on him. If he talks, call me."

The guard closest by raised a hoof in a sharp salute. "Sir!"

The soldier was left alone in the cell. But he was not unarmed. Without his dagger and sidearm, sure, but he still had the explosives he had planned to use in the backpack they hadn't taken for reasons that entirely eluded him. They may have had magic, but they had no common sense.

The trick, of course, was that setting off explosives would be an instant ticket to the great beyond. On the other hand, it meant he could never be tortured for information. He would not compromise his position...

But that was not what... they told him to do, not that he was doing a good job of it. He was a prisoner. Escape, he failed that. Remember your surroundings: He had done that. He was fairly sure if he was on the other side of the bars, he could run out of the palace he had been brought to.

Resist: He was doing that, by pretending to not understand them. If they never actually asked him questions past that, he had won that step entirely.

Keep the Faith. He took a slow breath. That was always a tricky one... He had to believe, in himself, in his comrades, in anything, that he would make it through. He'd get home...

Come Home With Honor. Exploding himself, while a brilliant act of resistance, would end that option. Suicide was not what they asked you to do. No.

No.

He took off his backpack and threw it in the corner out of immediate sight. He'd hold onto the option, but... No... His country did not want him to die for it. He should make other people die.

"I'm sorry." The pink one with the crown was back, speaking in her gentle tones. "I need to be sure you're not hiding anything." Her magic wrapped around him and she began stripping him down. "I don't know what is or is not a weapon, so it all has to go." Despite the fact that he wasn't speaking, she seemed to feel the urge to keep talking.

He had no desire to be stripped nude, but what could he do? She was on the other side of the bars, her horn glowing as she casually pulled his clothes away. When she saw him nude, she arched a brow, as if fascinated. "Huh... I never saw one of you without all the clothing on." She folded up his clothes in the air, floating beside her. "I will keep this safe. I am not planning to steal it from you forever."

On the bright side, it was not chilly, at least, not too chilly. It was still colder than he would have liked.

She noticed a shiver and hesitated. "You wear clothes for a reason..." A blanket floated up and into the cell. "Please, warm yourself."

That surprised him. Was his clothes being snatched really...? Clearly she wasn't trying to just embarrass him if she was giving a blanket right away. He had so many questions, but talking meant answering her questions. He took the blanket and sank onto the cot that was in there, watching her in his warming cloth cocoon. It was soft, and warm, and didn't even itch. Horses made quality blankets, who knew?

"You must... be so angry with us." She glanced towards the guard and back at the prisoner. "I'm angry at you too... But I would rather stop this." She reached a metal-clad hoof, resting it on the bars. "I hate this. I hate every moment of this war. My people are suffering and dying. Your people... This isn't right."

She turned away. "You will be held securely, but safely. If you are hungry, just let us know. We will feed and water you regularly, regardless. You may be our prisoner, but we don't... hate... you. I don't want to hate anyone." She walked away with a soft sigh.

A scroll appeared with a soft pop and fell to the table between Twilight and her interrogators. One of the soldiers snatched it up. "Is this a real-assed scroll? It's all... Jesus." He unfurled it, amazed at the old-timeyness of it. It was covered in Ponish writing, of course. "Can you read Ponish?"

George nervously chuckled. "Not... really?"

Twilight swiveled an ear between them. "If you let me see that, I'll read it."

That would not do. The scroll was taken away to be deciphered. For the day, Twilight was sent back to her room. It would take time to translate the scroll.

Dearest Twilight,

It is a great relief to hear from you! You had me so worried I was beside myself. I'm sending word to Cadance immediately to stop all activity. I'm delighted to hear you've made contact. Are you speaking to their leader(s)? Please, be safe, my wayward once student.

Hoping For The Best,
Princess Celestia

It had been dutifully translated, copied, and sent on towards the mainland and the president.

It was up to him if they even showed it to Twilight.

Author's Notes:

Both sides have a prisoner, though one is considerably more valuable than the other.

One could also far more easily escape than the other. Good thing Twilight wants to be there.