An explosion rang out in the distance, and a fine layer of dust came drifting down from the ceiling. Princess Celestia was in the epicenter of the Royal Guard’s War Room, all the top-level brass necessary to keep Equestria’s armed forces fighting jammed into a single room. Piles of dragonfired scrolls were arriving and departing every moment, the officers working their hardest to maintain a cohesive defense. Every moment, scrolls were appearing and disappearing in flashes of green fire, a platoon of scribes attacking a mountain of paper to keep communications running. The sharp cracks of gunfire were closer to the castle than Princess Celestia would have liked. Earlier that morning, pegasus scouts had reported massive troop movements in the areas surrounding Canterlot. They were surrounded by human forces, cut off from reinforcements. Princess Celestia took a moment to wonder how it had all gone wrong, the exact circumstances that had led to this situation. Two years ago a portal between universes was created, admittedly by an overeager Canterlot University student’s accident. First contact had been made, and paranoia on both sides had been high. Princess Celestia’s top advisors had been ready to deploy the Elements of Harmony, but Celestia hadn’t know how far the United States had been willing to go, until at a recent social function when a high-ranking US military officer had pulled her off to the side and told her in strictest confidence that the ‘nuclear’ option had been considered at one point, but had thankfully been discarded. Eventually, cooler heads prevailed and a somewhat tentative alliance had been forged between the two nations. It was almost like a bad dream, the forces once pledged together in peace now pitted against each other in war. Just the other day she had attended an officer’s ball on the other side of the portal. Was it possible that those friends she’d made over cocktails had orchestrated this attack? The thought of it was almost enough to turn her stomach. An aide ran up to her with a dispatch clutched in his magic. Private Powder Keg if Celestia’s memory was right. It had always been one of her hobbies to memorize the ponies working under her, but in a situation like the present, she might be the only one left to remember them. “Princess! Captain Iron Sides is holding at the railyard. He’s pinned down and needs pegasus support.” “We don’t have any left, tell him to hold out with what he’s got. If we can, we’ll retask another unit, but we won’t have one ready for at least fifteen minutes.” “Yes ma’am!” With that, the aide scurried back to his station and started penning out the message before igniting it with a dragonfire candle and sending it on its way. Another aide ran forward with much the same request, which Celestia had to once again deny. It was a losing battle. For the first few hours, the Royal Guard had been holding ground against the relentless offensive. Something had changed in the last two hours, and now the rate of scrolls materializing in the room was decreasing at an alarming rate. Most of them were a variant of a single message: ‘Overrun’. The staccatos of gunfire were drawing closer, echoing through the halls. Princess Celestia was able to discern the slight differences in them, the sharp [i]cracks[/i] of rifle-fire, the deeper [i]chuchuchut [/i]of machine guns. It didn’t bode well. Gunshots echoed through the hallways, mixed with the battle cries of ponies. The fighting was getting closer. The top brass of the Royal Guard who had been directing the battle were now preparing to take the stage and fight it. Armor and weapons were being passed around to everypony, and Princess Celestia was no exception. The royal barding was neither comfortable nor ceremonial, its primary purpose to protect. It had been forged during a time when Equestria had been neither safe nor secure, small steel plates bound in cloth and arranged like a dragon’s scales. Somepony passed her a polearm, and she accepted it, tucking it under a wing. Chairs and tables were stacked like firewood against the two open archways that led into the room, the windows reinforced and hidden with magic long before the fighting had begun. Finally the room was secured, the occupants taking up fortifying positions. The cracks of gunfire inside the castle had fallen quiet. The defenders waited in silence. It was several minutes until movement was spotted, a wall of grey smoke rolling down the hallway. A young guardspony poked his head over a barricade and peered into the grey smoke that was flowing down the corridor at a turgid pace. A shot rang out, and he fell backwards off the barricade to lie limply in a pile on the floor. As if a floodgate had been opened, a short volley of shots rang out, and the defenders braced themselves against their barricades for the attackers to rush forward as bullets smashed into wood. It came as a surprise when a trio of small silver canisters spraying thick white smoke were thrown over the barricades and into the center of the room. The room started to fill with an acrid stench, the mysterious gas spreading across the floor in a thin layer that was starting to thicken. Princess Celestia recognized the one of the components in the smoke from the noxious odor alone. Trotsweed, normally only a minor irritant, but when aerosolized it had the ability to completely neutralize a unicorn’s magic. Already, the air filtering spell she’d cast around her head was sputtering, the magic leaking away, leaving only the start of a migraine. Princess Celestia inhaled, and the gas immediately burned her throat. In moments she was coughing, snot streaming from her nose. The rest of the defenders were also suffering the same ill effects. The room was filled with the noises of ponies hacking, gasping, and coughing, nopony immune to the effects of the debilitating gas. "Air, I need air!" a stallion yelled, climbing over the barricades and disappearing into the thick grey smoke that filled the hallway. The current situation was unbearable, their current position unmaintainable. The only option left was a tactical retreat outside, where the air was hopefully breathable. Celestia got to her feet, lept over the barricade, and galloped through the smoke filled hallway. Being the long-ruling diarch of Equestria had its advantages. A minor one was knowing the castle like the back of her frog. Blinded by smoke, and all around exhausted she was able to stumble out into a courtyard in only a few minutes. She only got turned around once. Celestia rolled on the grass of the courtyard, trying to get the despicable irritant out of her system by hacking and coughing. WIthin moments of breathing fresh air, her lungs no longer burned and her sinuses were already clearing. The day’s events had taken a lot out of her, and so she lay on the grass panting, only looking up when something blotted out the sun shining on her face. A tall gangly creature on two legs, wearing an olive-drab uniform and armed only with a knife stood before her. “Captured,” it announced, pressing the knife against her throat before she could react. “I surrender.” “Captured go over there,” it announced, sheathing the orange plastic knife and pointing towards a huddle of sheepish looking Royal Guard in one corner of the yard. Celestia obeyed the bipedal creature and limped over to the rest of the captured soldiers. The effects of the gas finally wore off, and Celestia was finally able to clean herself up slightly. Looking around, she looked to see who she shared her fate with. The human soldiers were filtering out of the castle, some walking, some being carried, all smiling. The ‘dead’ were being led off in one line, the ‘survivors’ into another. A soldier, an officer if she was reading his shoulder insignias right, was walking down the line of human ‘survivors’ with a clipboard. Every few soldiers, he would say ‘Casualty’ and the selected soldier would reach into their shirt-pocket, remove a small brown envelope, and then tear it open,reading a small card inside. The responses ranged from groans to excited giggles. From the briefing earlier that day, Princess Celestia knew that they were opening their ‘casualty cards’, a preselected list of ailments and injuries for the medics to fawn over. After all, what good was a combat exercise if you only tested half your forces? There was more to winning a war than just fighting. Only by testing you army’s entire capabilities could you figure out where you stood on the totem pole. The cards distributed, the orderly line of Americans broke apart as the soldiers started milling around the courtyard. Two of them in particular caught her attention, and she cocked her ear, listening in on their conversation. “This is fucking bullshit. [i]Complications from Pregnancy[/i], yeah, cause that’s what I’ve got in my pants.” “Well you [i]do[/i] look like a bit of a pussy.” There was muted laughter. “Get fucked Mike, guess what I got?” “What?” “[i]Hangnail, Return to Duty.[/i]” “Chris you lucky bastard.” “Y'know, I think I might get some [i]tail[/i] tonight. I bet some of the locals would love to get frisky with a man in uniform.” “You wouldn’t.” “Would I?” “They’re little horses dude... I fucking dare you.” “Well, we’ll see who’s laughing tonight.” Celestia sidled up to the pair of soldiers, who froze in place when they noticed how close she was, and how likely it was that she’d picked up the less savory parts of their conversation. “I couldn’t help but overhear your conversation. You’re right, this wasn’t the right card for you at all. I’ll make sure that it gets to the proper place.” Celestia pulled the pregnancy card from the soldier's grip, turned to walk away, but decided to pause instead. “Also, if you’ve been having trouble getting [i]any[/i], I’m sure my assistant Raven can get you an [i]invitation[/i] to dinner with me. I haven’t gotten to know any humans that well yet. Who knows, you might be a better diplomat than a soldier.” With that, Celestia gave a sultry wink and walked over to the officer who had been assigning ‘casualties’.. “I need to go on the truck out with your soldiers,” Celestia informed him, displaying her purloined card with a smile a mile wide. “Apparently, I’m pregnant. Who knew!” With that, Celestia trotted over to the ‘casualty’ truck and climbed up and into the back. There were two benches that ran the length of the truck, with a thick green tarp covering the sides and top of the cargo area. She moved over to one of the benches, and after the soldiers scooted down, sat down. Her neighbor was a morose looking soldier, who, unlike the others, didn’t have a single painted on wound. “What’s your card?” Celestia asked. “It’s nothing,” the soldier muttered. “It’s my first time doing anything like this exercise, so forgive my curiosity. I’d just like to know.” The man’s face was now a beet red, shameful and embarrassed. “Constipation,” he muttered in a quiet voice. Their muted conversation had taken interest from the rest of the soldiers in the back of the truck. “Hey Frisano, I didn’t hear ya, speak up!” the sergeant called from the front of the truck. “CONSTIPATION SARGE!” “Knocked out of the war by MRE cheese Private? That’s friendly fire! Might want to inform Ameriqual, I’m sure they’d love the feedback.” “Well if it’s any consolation, I got ‘Complications from Pregnancy,’” Princess Celestia said, holding up her card in her magic. “Do I look very pregnant to you?” The soldier sitting next to her, apparently ‘Frisano’, froze, his brain searching for an answer that wouldn’t get him written up for sexual harassment by his chain of command, or burnt to a crisp by a vengeful goddess. “No ma'am,’ he ventured. “You’re a very beautiful... um... lady?” Celestia smiled at the compliment. “The word you’re looking for is [i]mare[/i].” The ice broken, questions came flooding in. “Are your wings real?” [i]Yes.[/i] “Can I touch them?” [i]No.[/i] “How do you talk?” [i]I move my mouth and then the words come out.[/i] What’s your favorite food? [i]A good currant cake, with roast almonds on top.[/i] How do you get your hair to do that all the time? [i]*Deep sigh*[/i] Have you ever hit your horn on a door? [i]Not that I can remember.[/i] “What’s the biggest di--” --A hard, long glare from the Sergeant and the question was hastily retracted-- “Nevermind.” As the truck lurched into gear and pulled out of the castle and onto the streets of Canterlot, Celestia was already annoyed from all the questions. By the time the truck pulled into the American camp, she was almost exhausted. [i]Professional fighting force my flank![/i] She thought to herself. [i]They’re worse than foals! At least foals get tired![/i] The truck came to a stop by the medical tent, the large red cross on a white background giving it away. The medics boarded the truck and got to work. The worst of the ‘wounded’ soldiers were carted off first, then the medics came back again and again until the truck had been cleared out. Only she was left, the anomaly. A medic came over, and seeing that she was the only ‘patient’ left, let out a sigh. She didn’t blame him. Today’s bureaucratic machine had been setup to practice on humans. She was not a human. Therefore paperwork was going to be involved, and sadly for the medic, more paperwork than was strictly necessary. “Alright, come over to the tent.” “Happy to oblige,” Celestia replied, hopping daintily out of truck. The medic led her over to a wall-tent, where there were two chairs, and a small folding table waiting. “Name? Last then first.” “Celestia.” “Card please.” Celestia handed over her casualty card. The medic read it and snorted. “Tell you what, it’s been a long day. We’re going to do this by the book.” Changing his tone to something more formal, the medic continued. “As I am not skilled in providing medical attention to the Equestrian pony named Celestia, I will defer to the judgement of the Equestrian representative, Princess Celestia.” Celestia giggled. “Princess Celestia, given the symptoms exhibited by the patient Celestia, what is your opinion?” “Clean bill of health.” “Well then, seeing as Celestia is healthy and wholesome, she no longer requires the medical services of the United States Army Medical Corps. As such, I release her to the authority of Princess Celestia.” “How long has today been?” Celestia asked. “Very. Mind if I ask why you rode over here in the back of a medical truck?” “Well, really I just wanted a look around here. I was here the other day, but it was on a bit of a guided tour. What I really love to do is just get out and experience things, without all that [i]politics [/i]getting in the way. “ “Well, the Rangers throw the best parties, and they’re off on the far west edge of camp. They've got the best beer too. If you can find me, I'll run you a saline IV. It's the best way to beat a hangover.” With that the medic pushed his partially filled out paperwork off his folding-table and into a trash can, then picked up his pen and walked away, leaving Celestia to her own devices. [hr] It was much later in the afternoon by the time Celestia had managed to work her way back to the castle, specifically to the captured ‘war-room’ that she’d spent most of the day hunched over a set of maps. The room was in shambles, the walls marked with flecks of paint from the American gunfire, the tables and chairs flung every which way during the ‘last stand’. The floor itself could barely be seen, covered with so many loose papers. Despite the mountain of disarray, a small army of custodial staff were already fighting a new war: to get the castle’s dining room back in action for a formal dinner reception to be held that night, celebrating the culmination of the first Equestrian-American combined exercise. Several of the cleaners were eyeing one of the tables, distaste evident on their muzzles. Princess Celestia walked over, and had to suppress a chuckle. The tabletop was covered with a single piece of graffiti, big block letters spelling out a single phrase: “Wagner Loves The Cock.” One of the ponies made to start cleaning it off, but Princess Celestia stopped them. She knew the perfect place to display it: smack dab in the center of the corridor leading from Luna's tower. The perfect place to driver her [i]dearest[/i] sister absolutely batty. "No, don't clean it off," she said. "This is a commemorative of the first Equestrian-American wargames. It's a piece of history, and as such needs to be properly preserved. We’re going to have to mount it somewhere. Fortunately, I know [i]just[/i] the place for it."