Honour Bound

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Corporal Honour Bound was feeling pretty winded. Not even a hike up Canterlot Mountain could hold a candle to the effort required to scale the capital's impregnable bastion, The Watchtower.

Thirty stories tall and designed to house pegasi almost exclusively, it had no elevators, no cranes, and an arcane block against magical teleportation. In brief, there was no quick way up or down unless you could fly. And what amenities were provided for those ponies whose only means of locomotion were hooves -- or non-ponies with feet -- had been built with security in mind first and foremost, and ease of access absolutely dead last. Each single-story staircase traced half the circumference of the great tower itself, but getting to the next set up involved crossing, at each floor, a mini-labyrinth full of blind corners and easy ambush spots.

The Watchtower had never fallen in the history of Canterlot, and it wasn't for lack of trying. Even the batponies had made a go at it, according to Ebonshield -- and they'd failed, despite having wings.

As Honour reached the twenty-fourth floor, she was really starting to pant. Glamerspear, on her left, had been doing that for the last ten floors, and already had some sweat-foam accumulation around her collar and hips. Her horn was lit up, and a teal aura under her barrel told the corporal the unicorn was cheating a bit, using her telekinesis to remove some of the load on her legs.

Honour still hadn’t pointed out to her that she wasn’t in an all-unicorn regiment anymore and that she ought to share her utility spells. Things got a little busy after the last time in the Rookery; it had slipped her mind. But if this was Pony Physical Training, that mini-levitation cantrip she was using would get her a sharp rebuke from the sergeant in charge of the exercise. Since it wasn't, though, Honour was just satisfied she'd found a way to not completely collapse once they reached their destination.

By several hooves, both of them trailed the Royal Engineer, who’d started off with a fast walk, and kept it up the whole way. Of course, as a tall biped, a fast walk for him was a racing trot for the two ponies. The relatively cool air temperature inside the keep was probably the only reason he didn't appear to be sweating up a storm under his black wool suit. That same cool air, plus her earth pony lineage was also the only reason Corporal Bound wasn’t doing as poorly as Specialist Glamerspear.

As they made their way to the second-to-last staircase on the journey up to the major general's twenty-sixth-floor office, Honour passed by the fortress's uppermost landing pad. She paused for just a moment to look it over. For all the terrors it held, Her Majesty's Flying carriage would have gotten them up there a lot faster...

"Don't say it!" Glamerspear shook her head angrily at Honour as she resumed her march.

"What?"

Leaning in, the unicorn hissed angrily. "You were thinking about how much less tired we'd be if we'd ridden that death-trap up to that platform. Well, no ma'am. You couldn't pay me to get in there again, Corporal!"

Honour raised an eyebrow. "The Royal Guard is paying you, Glamerspear. Or are you having problems with Finance?"

Squinting at the corporal, she pulled back. "You know what I mean. I'll take anything over Her Majesty's Flying Terror-iage any day of the week -- even this mountain climbing expedition and the Royal Engineer's land carriage with you at the tiller!"

Honour lifted her eyebrows. "Got a complaint about my driving, Specialist?"

Glamerspear scoffed. "Oh, your driving's fine, Corporal. Managed to get us here without running into or over anything you weren't supposed to." With a wry grin, she chuckled. "It's the look of dread always plastered over your muzzle while you're at the helm that gives me the creeps."

It was true that Honour Bound didn't exactly enjoy being in the driver's seat. She wasn’t afraid, just... tense. Controlling Anonymous' 'automobile' was a real hoof-full, and one that, even after all the drilling and practice she’d done with it, she still didn't feel ready for. Especially not on a busy Saturday morning in Canterlot. Particularly when it was the last shopping weekend before the Grand Galloping Gala. Ponies were walking around everywhere and carriages were darting to and fro, making the city's grand boulevards seem like tight alleys. It could only have been by the will of Princess Celestia herself that she had avoided hitting anypony.

"Here we are, twenty-fifth floor. Just one more to go. Whew, quite a climb!"

‘Oh, thank the blessed sun.’

At the top of the staircase, Honour’s Very Important Pony, who wasn't actually a pony, and who had, so far, made the climb with barely even a grunt of effort, at last paused and pulled a handkerchief out of his trousers pocket, wiping sweat from his forehead.

"Maybe I should have asked to borrow the Royal Flying Carriage again, as when we travelled to Newcastle-upon-Mare."

Honour exchanged a glance with Glamerspear, who appeared absolutely horrified at the suggestion.

With a smile, the Royal Engineer turned around to look back at his two somewhat laggardly guards. “Then again, maybe not, unless the garage can also lend us some parachutes."

Her unicorn comrade sighed with relief, and Honour took the opportunity to give her legs a quick break. "That'd make me feel a lot better about climbing into it, sir. But I think we're better off sticking to solid ground."

"For now, I agree. But you may change your mind if I can put a good aeroplane together later."

This was not the moment to ask what an 'aeroplane' was, so Honour remained silent.

Folding up the cotton square, Anonymous put it away, then tugged at the chain of his pocket-watch and pulled it from his vest. "Fifteen minutes to climb up; looks like we'll be right on time. Okay, let's get this last staircase done with; I don't want to keep the Major General waiting."

The Royal Engineer took off, and Bound and Glamerspear followed right after him.

‘It's only been fifteen minutes?’

Fifteen minutes of a steep and steady ascent, though. The only thing on the corporal’s mind most of the way up was what her VIP was going to do or say when pressed by Major General Hoofstrong.

First, there was the whole issue of his request -- a series of training-fire exercises on the palace grounds less than a week before the biggest annual event in Canterlot, attended by nobleponies from across the nation. Then there was the mistake of having failed to ask permission for that first test, when Glamerspear was getting the hang of pulling lead on a target while Honour was getting a better feel for how the carriage handled at speed.

Beyond those, there was politics and optics. Politics, in how Lieutenant Violetta had sent a complaint, at the Royal Engineer's request, regarding Kilfeather's behaviour during his 'Pas de Sabots' at Newstirrup Bridge -- an event that Hoofstrong herself had orchestrated to further her political aims. Best-case, she did it without knowing about Kilfeather's personal proclivities and is (or will be) disappointed to hear what he tried to pull. That would lend some sympathy to the court-martial case. Worst-case, Hoofstrong didn’t care if the Lieutenant was a bastard, and didn’t like the resulting interference in her objectives.

Bigger questions might be raised about whether the Royal Engineer was, perhaps, an obstacle in her goal of eliminating the purchase of commissions. He was, after all, a noble himself, though not a hereditary one. But then again, the Major was nobility as well.

What was her position, really?

Lieutenant. Vi's report on Hoofstrong's history, as well as Sparkshower's story of her brief encounter in delivering the calling-card, didn't give very much to go on. It painted the picture of a professional warrior, but did that mean she would be politically ruthless? Giving a speech to the troops about pegasi always being ready for a fight didn't sound very diplomatic, but it was the kind of booster speech to be expected from a general.

Then there was the batpony problem. Ebonshield wasn't a part of this visit, but the major general might know about her regardless. Her air patrol might've spotted the sergeant sitting in the stands during that first exercise, perhaps. Or maybe she’d heard about the lunar character from Lieutenant Kilfeather himself; he did meet her, briefly, when he came to demand the return of his scrap-metal helmet.

Would Hoofstrong then also know that the Royal Engineer had been inside the Rookery? The setup at the orchard shed was pretty covert, and it was run by a special unit of Military Ponice. But the pony in charge of the general air defense of Canterlot would probably know all about batpony operations in the area. She might even have a source of intelligence within the 'Royal Undermountain Constabulary' service.

Or if, as Sergeant Ebonshield had suggested, Major General Hoofstrong was bitter about having had to fight the batponies who were now nominally allies, if not full Equestrian citizens, then she might even have operators of her own watching the entrances and keeping track of comings and goings. The powers at the disposal of the major general of the First Air Division were considerable; in the absence of an actual ongoing conflict, she was effectively Canterlot's chief Air Marshal, reporting only to the Grand Marshal of Equestria. And the Grand Marshal only reported to two ponies: Her Majesty's Secretary of Defense, and Her Majesty Princess Celestia herself. Honour’s VIP was, by virtue of being a member of the Blue Chamber, just under Her Majesty as well; two steps above the major general.

And he wasn't even a pony.

If Hoofstrong resented him for that, it could make things very complicated.

"Lord Anonymous, sir! Good morning, and welcome to the Watchtower!"

In the time Honour had been reflecting, the three of them had reached the twenty-sixth floor of Canterlot's ancient defensive bastion, and the headquarters of its premier defenders. Behind the reception-desk, a sergeant major stood up and snapped to attention, as did a dozen other functionaries and clerks in the front office. The guards at the entrance hadn't bothered to give them a military escort; after all, the Royal Engineer already had one. They'd just pointed up and told them that Hoofstrong was on the twenty-sixth floor.

Anonymous politely removed his top hat, now that they were no longer in the bastion's corridors. "Thank you. I'm here to see Major General Hoofstrong, please."

The sergeant lowered his salute. "Of course, sir. She asked that your Lordship be shown right in; if you'll please follow me."

To a nod from the Royal Engineer, the sergeant major stepped out from behind his desk, which was almost immediately re-occupied by another one of the staff so as to not leave the reception vacant. A private pulled open the small fence-door that separated the reception area from the office proper, saluting in the process, and the three of them followed the sergeant major into the depths of the First Air Division's headquarters. It didn’t escape Honour’s notice that the rest of the pegasi in the office maintained their salute until her VIP was well through the double doors at the back of the room. She didn’t see them get back to work, but she did hear the din of paperwork abruptly resume.

The next area, past all the filing cabinets and work-desks, was the map room, with an enormous, to-scale terrain map of the surrounding areas on a table, complete with miniature buildings for Canterlot and Cloudsdale, as well as the villages of the surrounding counties. Pegasi flitted through the air and trotted around on the floor, adjusting small figures and markers representing Royal Guard forces and who-knows-what else. Honour tried to get a close look at Canterlot Mountain; it seemed like it might be hollow and open, but only on the far, eastern side, opposite of where the sergeant major was leading them. Without being able to see it, the corporal couldn’t know for sure what the First A.D. knew about the Rookery and the ponies inside it.

Glamerspear leaned in and whispered to her out the side of her mouth. "Mare, what my brothers wouldn't give to be able to play Hyperspace Hyperwars on that thing... It'd blow their nerdy little minds."

Probably true. However, now wasn’t the time to be making snide comments.

"Cut the chatter until we're back in the carriage, Glamerspear. I don't want us to be responsible for this going wrong."

She nodded, somewhat insincerely. "Yeah, I know. I wasn't going to say anything in front of Hoofstrong."

Honour tapped a forehoof on her helmet, by her ear. "This is her HQ; we're as good as in front of her right now."

Glamerspear didn’t say anything, but after a moment, she nodded, more knowingly and appreciatively.

The sergeant major knocked at a set of double doors to the left of the main map area, and from within Honour could hear a reply.

"Enter."

Pushing open the doors, he stepped aside and allowed their party to pass. "Major General Hoofstrong, ma'am... His Lordship Anonymous, Royal Engineer of Equestria."

Behind a large wooden bureau, in a large, high-backed chair sat a pegasus mare with a scarlet-red coat and a stark white mane cut conservatively short in the front and on top, though hanging a little longer at her withers. She was wearing the full Air Service Dress uniform, with its dark blue jacket, lighter blue shirt, and black tie. There were two silver stars on each of her shoulders, and a hat bearing two more was on the desk, just off to the side. As the Royal Engineer entered the room, she spread her wings and got to her hind hooves, extending a forehoof across the desk to gesture at the chair opposite hers.

"A pleasure to meet you, sir. Won't you be seated?"

"Thank you, Major General. The pleasure is all mine."

As Honour and Glamerspear took up positions flanking the door, Anonymous politely sat down, and one of the major general's aides fluttered over and took his hat and white gloves, placing them delicately on a sideboard.

Once everypony was all settled in, Hoofstrong sat herself back down and looked calmly across her desk at their VIP. "What can I do for you today, sir?"

Anonymous adjusted himself in his chair, then opened as Honour had discussed: with thanks and a mea culpa. "Well, General Hoofstrong, first I would like to thank you for agreeing to meet with me on such short notice, and secondly I would like to apologize for the disturbance I caused earlier this week. In my eager haste to get my work done, I failed to properly investigate the rules around that sort of exercise. I'm sorry for any disturbance caused to your division's normal operations."

It was difficult to read anything in the major general's reserved, sky-blue eyes, or in her flat, almost deadpan voice. "There's no need to apologize for that, sir. Handling disturbances is part of First Air Division's normal operations. And I wouldn't have expected somepony with your background to be aware of Canterlot air control rules."

She glanced over at Honour Bound and Glamerspear, pausing a moment to look at the corporal's epaulets on her shoulders and the Silver Ram around Glamerspear's neck. "You're not in the Royal Guard or even from Equestria, after all. The rules ought to have been made clear to you by your Royal Guard escort, instead."

Honour didn't actually know the Canterlot air control rules; it certainly wasn't something they taught in the VIP Section training course, which dealt entirely with etiquette, and she’d never had to worry about something like 'do not fire rounds up into the sky' given that you couldn't do that.

Glamerspear, however, did admit after the training exercise that she had known.

Honour saw her unicorn comrade tense up slightly, but Anonymous spoke up before anypony else could. "I take responsibility for that failure, Major General. I pressured them to conduct the exercise before they even had the opportunity to consider the rules."

That wasn't in the script they’d discussed this morning. In fact, Honour had volunteered to take the blame if that sort of question had come up. What made him change his mind?

Hoofstrong took his statement without showing any emotion. "I see. And now that you've given your thanks and your apologies for having conducted exercises without authorization, I suppose you'd like to obtain permission to continue those same exercises?"

Very matter-of-fact and to-the-point.

Anonymous folded his hands in his lap. "Yes, General. I'd very much like to resume those tests as soon as possible."

The major general paused, then nodded. "Would your Lordship be able to explain the details with me? The reports I received were inconclusive as to what, exactly, you were trying to accomplish."

Smiling, the Royal Engineer unfolded his hands. "Certainly, General. I was conducting tests of my new Self-Propelled Anti-Aircraft Weapon platform. This consists of a steam-propelled carriage, piloted by Corporal Bound, with Specialist Glamerspear serving as the actual weapon, and myself as their supervisor. Specialist Sparkshower, who delivered my calling-card yesterday, was serving as the target."

Tilting his head sideways, he gestured towards the door. "The vehicle itself is parked outside at ground level, actually; we drove it here to the meeting. I'd be happy to demonstrate it for you."

That got a raised eyebrow from the officer; her first visible reaction. "Thank you, but perhaps another time." Glancing at the aide-de-camp sitting to her left at the long end of the desk, she remarked. "It must be pretty fast, though. I received a report that you had left Canterlot Palace only moments before being notified that you had arrived at the Watchtower's front gate."

‘So she was watching us.’

That didn't really mean anything, though; it was almost literally her job.

Anonymous smiled and leaned back in his chair. "It'll make sixty kilometers per hour without a fuss, Major General, and in spite of its present rather primitive controls, Corporal Bound has become quite skilled at maneuvering it. I'm actually a bit anxious to see what she can do after some improvements I've got planned."

Honour felt a bit flush in her cheeks. He hadn't mentioned giving her a glowing endorsement in front of a two-star general that morning, either. Hoofstrong looked over at the corporal, and even Glamerspear shot a quick glance in her direction. She felt the flushness getting a bit more intense under the sudden scrutiny.

"Interesting. And what provoked your creation of this speedy armed vehicle?"

An uncomfortable question.

Anonymous gestured at Glamerspear as he sidestepped the question. "I had the opportunity to witness Specialist Glamerspear in solo combat." As the Royal Engineer continued on, the general's gaze shifted to Honour’s unicorn comrade. "It seemed to me that her greatest vulnerabilities were her immobility and her need to switch spells between defense and offense. I was already planning to build a self-propelled vehicle as a demonstration of the power of scientific engineering; combining the two requirements was only natural."

Hoofstrong looked back at their VIP. "And this demonstration you're planning... it's for who, exactly?"

Anonymous licked his lips. "Her Majesty Princess Celestia, of course."

With a frown, the major general leaned back in her chair, her forehooves crossed in front of her chest. "Just to summarize, sir. You want to conduct maneuvers involving a Royal Guard infantry NCO driving a carriage around at high speed, with a Royal Guard Air Defense Specialist firing training rounds up at a Royal Guard Armored Scout. And you want to do these on Her Majesty's Royal Eastern Cottage racetrack, on the Palace grounds, less than a week before the Grand Galloping Gala, with the city full of nobleponies, the palace full of laborers, and security on high alert."

She uncrossed her forehooves and placed them on her desk. "You understand, of course, that I have some concerns."

Anonymous nodded, slowly. "I do. But I'm trying to capitalize on a time-sensitive opportunity with the completion of my book, and I'm not aware of any other suitable venue."

Hoof and carriage racing weren't hugely popular in Canterlot; Lieutenant Violetta had pointed that out when the possibility of relocating had come up. The next closest public track was halfway to Ponyville. But when Canterlot was founded, Princess Celestia wanted the capital palace of Equestria to be welcoming to all ponies and to promote all of their cultures, even if it was in a city of unicorns, so the Eastern Cottage track was put in. To Her Majesty's credit, it saw regular use, with a race most weekends in the summer and fall.

The major general loudly breathed in and out, staring at the Royal Engineer. Finally, she seemed to make up her mind.

"You have me in an uncomfortable position, sir. I have enough load on my wings managing the city and the Gala that I don't want to have to worry about something else. But if I say 'no,' you have the power to take it over my head. You sit in the Blue Chamber; you could talk to the Grand Marshal and have the order sent down from on high."

Raising her hooves up, she placed them together, resting her elbows on the table. "The question is, would that be worth your time to do, and how long would it take, and how long would I then need to stall to push it past the Gala, and what would it cost me?" Raising an eyebrow, she continued. "Or is this so important to you that if you fail to get approval, you'll do it anyways and deal with the consequences later?"

Anonymous didn’t have an immediate reply, and even Honour was flabbergasted by the directness of Major General Hoofstrong's question -- or was it more of an accusation? She’d all but said flat out that she expected him to disobey rules to get his way, and that she would disobey a direct order to have her way, too. What kind of reply was she looking for with a statement like that?

The Royal Engineer clasped his hands together, meshing his fingers into each other with a tight grip. "Major General, shortly after arriving here I made it my mission to bring scientific advancement to Equestria. I know from my own world's history that it will inevitably involve ruffling a few feathers and stepping on a few hooves."

Relaxing his wrists, he lowered his hands slightly, still coupled. "But I'm not going to run roughshod over Equestrian institutions and regulations without serious cause. I'm still a visitor here, and I won't offend my hosts' hospitality. If I have to leave your office disappointed, then I'll just find something else to do for the next week."

Hoofstrong pushed her chair sideways. "Maybe there is a way, if you could do something for me."

‘Ah, now we’re back on track.’

‘After the blunt impasse, here comes the political request.’

"I'd be happy to, Major General. What would that be?"

This is the part where she’d ask for the charges against Lieutenant Valiant Kilfeather to be dropped. Lieutenant. Vi had already drawn up the paperwork if that was the price Anonymous was willing to pay. He hadn't been enthusiastic about it.

"I want observers at your exercises, and an invitation for myself and for anyponies of my choosing to attend the final demonstration."

‘What?’

Glamerspear scoffed out in surprise a little too loudly, attracting the attention of the two-star General. "... Is something wrong, Specialist?"

Quickly resuming a formal posture, Honour’s unicorn comrade saluted. "No, ma'am! Sorry for the disturbance, ma'am!"

Ignoring Anonymous, the major general continued to look down her muzzle at Glamerspear. "Nothing wrong, really? Nothing wrong with my request? Were you expecting a different one, maybe?"

Lily went wide-eyed, like she'd just gotten stuck on the tracks with the Friendship Express hurtling towards her. "Like dropping the court-martial challenge against Lieutenant Kilfeather, for example?"

Honour was dumbstruck by the forcefulness of her questions, and the Royal Engineer was completely lost as well.

Glamerspear was completely on her own.

"Maybe I ought to file my own court-martial for the piece of work you did to my star air superiority pegasus' wings. What would you say to that, Specialist?"

Flummoxed, the unicorn didn't know what to say.

"Well? Where's your answer?" Hoofstrong sneered, her words bitingly sharp. "You weren't so tight-lipped about your actions back when you were speaking at the Canterlot Palace Officers' Club last weekend, were you, Centurion?"

‘Oh, buck.’

‘Did this just get personal?’

Glamerspear finally managed to find her voice, though it was a bit lacking. "I... Ma'am, if you... If you..."

The officer instantly snapped back. "If I'd what, Specialist? Stuttered like an epileptic nag?"

Glamerspear inhaled sharply and pulled herself together, almost growling in reply. "No, ma'am. If you knew what Lieutenant Kilfeather was capable of, and if you had heard what he'd said that morning about Specialist Sparkshower, my comrade and my friend, and if you knew what he had planned to do with her if we'd agreed to his 'Pas-de-sabots' surrender demands, then you would've done exactly what I did, ma'am. I don't regret grounding him until his next molting one bit, Major General, ma'am. You can court-martial me if you want, ma'am, but I'll fight it every step of the way." By the end of her rant, Glamerspear was panting and her horn was glowing.

To everypony's surprise, Hoofstrong leaned back in her chair. "Good. I won't tolerate a coward in the Order of the Ram."

Tilting her head back, she brushed a hoof against the side of her mane. "But you should still be more careful when you speak about an action you knew was political in nature. Giving Captain Mailedhoof and his high-society friends a good laugh is all well, but be mindful who's the real butt of the joke."

Nodding, she concluded. "Because in this case, it was me."

Glamerspear, thus diminished, nodded back. "Yes, Major General."

Tilting her head, Hoofstrong looked over at the Royal Engineer. "I'm surprised you let her fight Kilfeather in the first place. You allow your bodyguards a lot more freedom of action than most Canterlot VIPs ever do, Mister Anonymous."

He shrugged. "Who am I to tell them how to handle a social situation? They're the experts here, not me. Kilfeather's demands were outrageous, and maybe even criminal."

She nodded. "That'll be up to the Judge Advocate General to decide." Rolling her head sideways, she smirked. "I don't actually care that your bodyguard trashed my premier air superiority fighter's wings. He achieved the political goal of humiliating Equestria's idle nobility, despite any subsequent mockery at his defeat."

Lifting her eyebrows, the smirk turned into a somewhat creepy smile. "I don't even care that you have a batpony bodyguard, or that you were seen entering their Rookery on multiple occasions, despite my personal history with them."

Now it was Honour’s turn to blurt out in surprise. "You don't? Ma'am?"

Major General Hoofstrong shrugged, relaxing her expression. "No, I don't, Corporal, because even though I personally don't like them and don't personally trust them, I know that your VIP had no say in the assignment. Also, since you went to the trouble of politely asking for a meeting instead of just going straight over my head, I assume you have good reason to go visiting them under the mountain." She turned to Anonymous. "...You do have a good reason, don't you?"

Anonymous rubbed his hands on his knees. "The first time, it maybe wasn't the best reason, General, though I think Princess Luna wanted it to be done. But since then, I've had very good reasons to go, and to continue to go."

The major general nodded, and Honour finally felt like she could start to read the emotions in her eyes. Despite the little theatrics, she’d been calm the whole time.

"I appreciate your honesty, sir, I really do." Yawing her chair to and fro, she lifted an eyebrow. "I also appreciate how you hauled in Lord Bitsmount on charges he should have faced years ago. If I'm sorry about anything related to Kilfeather, it's that he interfered with that operation. It's a shame Bitsmount managed to shake things off onto his underling; I hope you haven't given up on pursuing him."

Anonymous sighed. "No, but I can't do much without any direct evidence."

She nodded. "Of course. And that's another honest answer that I appreciate as well."

Licking her lips, the major general leaned forward again, looking almost eager. "Okay. You want to run your drills on a racetrack which sees little use this time of year at the outer edge of the Canterlot Palace grounds. Doing it now means a bigger headache for me and my staff, but you're pressed for time; okay, fine. It's a prototype of military hardware, so I want to have some involvement -- observationally, at least."

Turning her chair sideways, she tapped a forehoof on the table. "You're talking about a device for shooting down flying things, and I run a division with twice as many wings as brains, so I think you'll agree that I have a vested interest in the matter."

Anonymous chuckled at her joke. "Of course. It was never my intention to keep it a complete secret. I just didn't know who to invite. If you know who will be interested, then by all means bring them along; I'd be happy to have them see the demonstration."

Hoofstrong smiled, turning her chair straight again. "Be careful what you wish for, Lord Anonymous. If I bring along everypony who might want a look at it, then even if your Centurion over there manages to shoot the stars themselves out of the sky while your driver dodges lightning bolts from the heavens and jets of flame from the earth, you'll have twenty contradictory opinions on how you ought to improve it."

Their VIP laughed again. "Heh. To be honest, though, the demonstration is more about proving that engineering can do wondrous things, rather than necessarily leading to the construction of that exact device."

Hoofstrong looked a bit confused, so Anonymous continued. "It's about convincing Princess Celestia to begin the important investments in manufacturing as soon as possible. There's so much more I can do with access to better materials."

The major general licked her lips. "I see. That brings up one more question I have. I've already signed your authorization papers; Lieutenant Cloudhunter will hoof them to you at the front desk. But since you've been honest with me so far, I'd appreciate it if you could be honest with me one more time."

She already knew about the batponies, about the Rookery, about Kilfeather, about Bitsmount… Even about Glamerspear blabbing to all the nobleponies in the Canterlot Palace Officers' Club in order to score herself a rich salt-lick in Captain Mailedhoof! What else could she possibly want to know?

Anonymous folded his fingers together again. "What's the question?"

Hoofstrong leaned back in her chair, lowering one foreleg onto the leg-rest.

"Why does Her Majesty Princess Celestia trust you so much?"

‘What?’

‘What kind of a question is that?’

As if to answer the corporal’s thoughts, she elaborated. "You're a creature of a kind nopony had ever seen before, and you hadn't been in Equestria for more than two months before Princess Celestia and Her Majesty's Privy Council created a new station and elevated you to the second-highest political body in the land: Lord of the Blue Chamber. Why?"

Anonymous took a moment to reflect, then slowly shook his head. "I don't know, and that's the honest answer."

Hoofstrong wasn’t quite finished with him, however. "Did you show off some other engineering invention? Or was it something you said?"

The Royal Engineer shrugged. "I didn't have anything to show off; I arrived with barely even any clothes on my back. All I had was just what I knew: my world, its wonders, its history, its culture. All I did was talk; to both of Their Majesties, and to experts they selected as well. I'm glad they believed me, and I'm honored by what they gave me, but I was surprised when they told me where they wanted to put me."

He frowned. "Why does it matter to you, General?"

She shook her head. "I suppose it doesn't. I just like to know who I'm dealing with."

Getting to her hind hooves, she extended a forehoof. "That's all from me, sir. Everything will be cleared for your exercises. Notify the CPMO at least two hours before you begin; they'll pass the word on to my division so I can have somepony there to observe, if I can spare them."

Anonymous stood up and shook the proffered hoof.

"Thank you, Major General. I appreciate it."

Next Chapter: Chapter 98 Estimated time remaining: 17 Hours, 6 Minutes