CRISIS: Equestria
Chapter Forty-and-Three-Tenths: Immortalize
One Month Later
In the past month, Hope’s Point had begun the rebuilding process; Secretary Cherry Tart was working overtime to make sure critical structures were rebuilt first—even some of the underground had been damaged thanks to both the new drill-equipped A.M.P. Troopers and to Starlight Shadow and her sisters.
Chief Engineer Spark Plug was focusing his efforts and getting the city’s power back to optimum capacity; at present they were operating at around eighty percent efficiency, which was enough to keep essential systems running, though the defense shield was taking a back seat for now. Thanks to the NPAF attack’s haphazard operation, they lost three of their largest cruisers and their central leadership; the NPAF would be in disarray for years trying to deal with the massive power vacuum Admiral Hotstreak’s death created.
Despite all this, morale was relatively high. While infrastructure had been damaged, no civilian lives had been lost thanks to the evacuation attempts. Yes, there had been a great loss of life in the city’s militia force due to factors outside of anypony’s knowledge or control—Starlight and her sisters—but it was different in this case than the attack that had killed King Stormchaser five years ago.
Another boost in morale were the rumors spreading throughout the city that Queen Blackburn was engaged to be wed. Not to some Utopian noble like Silver Glow, or to a hotshot homegrown pilot, like Blue Blitz, but to a commoner, for lack of a better term, that she had met up north. Citizens knew their Queen had been up north before taking the throne, though the extent of what she’d been doing was hazy; all they knew—all they needed to know—was that everything she did she’d done to help their city. Whoever this “Lockwood” was must’ve made quite an impression on Her Majesty.
But today was not a day for celebration, but for mourning. Every last citizen of Hope’s Point tuned in to watch the memorial service being held today at the royal palace; they didn’t have to be encouraged to and it didn’t come forced via royal order, but they all watched nonetheless. A raised stage had been set up right at the palace gates, just off to the left side; the entire wall behind the stage was currently covered by a cloth tarp; on the right side of the gate, a large cloth tarp was covering something quite large indeed, which stood at least a dozen feet tall.
There was no fanfare, no announcements, and no words spoken when Queen Blackburn, alone, stepped up onto the stage behind a podium that had been set up. She was stone-faced as ever, and looked out onto the crowd below, made up of reporters, camera operators, and ponies that held important positions within the city hierarchy, primarily the council members; they all watched her with rapt attention and baited breaths, waiting for the Queen’s first major public appearance since her return to the city.
Blackburn cleared her throat and began to speak, forgoing much of her usual terseness to speak from the heart:
“Citizens of Hope’s Point… one month ago today, many lives were tragically lost when the NPAF Admiral Hotstreak, servant of the evil Lord Silvertongue, and the engineered daughters of the latter, brought violence to our great city that we have not seen since the attack that killed my father, King Stormchaser, five years ago.
“I cannot possibly express enough condolences to the families of those whose lives were cut short. I cannot properly express the sadness I feel as I mourn those we lost, nor the anger I feel towards those responsible for these deaths. I can only resolve to keep moving our great city forward, to take actions that will prevent such a terrible loss of life from happening ever again.
“The fallen will be remembered,” she continued.
She gestured to the wall behind her, and the cloth dropped to reveal a large, well-crafted memorial plaque of marble, steel, and gold with the names of each and every pony who lost their lives in defense of the city; one hundred names, all in alphabetical order, each with their militia ranks, a record of their greatest accomplishments in life, and a brief account of when and, if they weren’t born in Hope’s Point, why they became a citizen.
Two names, however, were notably absent from the display, though nopony knew it just yet.
“This Memorial Wall is the second of its kind, but with all of my heart I hope that it is the last. I did not know all of the ponies on this wall personally, but I do know that each and every one of them held the ideals of this great city in their hearts and minds up until the very end. Their memories will live on in our hearts and minds in turn.
“Some of you in this very crowd before me may have known one or more of these ponies personally; some of you watching from elsewhere may know them as well. Surely those who have loved ones who died will hold their own memorials, their own gatherings to remember the fallen. But there are possibly names on this list who had no loved ones who will miss them. I ask that everypony keeps thoughts in their minds for the ponies who had nopony to do so for them.”
Blackburn then took a deep breath. “Two others were killed that day, in the course of their efforts to assist me in bringing those pursued by these agents of Pandemonium, as far from our city as possible. Through their efforts, we were able to draw the worst of the fighting away, and through the actions of those six, the world as we knew it has changed: we can see the clear, clean sky again all across the north for the first time in hundreds of years, and soon we will see life return to the Wasteland as well.”
Blackburn gestured towards the larger tarp, which fell to reveal a finely-crafted marble statue of Gadget and Crossfire, each of them standing tall and proud, protectively watching over the gate into the royal palace, and over the crowd Blackburn now addressed. An obsidian-and-steel plaque at the base of the statue gave their names and accomplishments much as the displays on the wall did, though just as brief:
Gadget and Crossfire
Chief Royal Guards in Service of Queen Blackburn
Gave their lives in defense of their Queen, their friend, their city, and the world.
“Gadget and Crossfire were more to me than just bodyguards, more to me than just my right and left hooves, more to me than just friends, even best friends. They say that the blood of the covenant is thicker than the water of the womb, and my relationship with them should be all the evidence anypony needs to prove that statement true. They were my sister and brother in all but name.
“Gadget was one of the most brilliant minds I have ever had the pleasure of meeting, inventing devices that have served to better the lives of ponies everywhere with nothing more than her creativity and a drive to help others. Her efforts to keep our city safe might have gone unnoticed by most, but she always had the well-being of all of you in her mind. She had a terrific sense of humor and was a romantic at heart, and she always spoke her mind whether asked or not.
“Crossfire was a kind, old soul, able to look at the bright side of every situation and to see the best in ponies no matter what others thought or suggested. He had an innocence about him that didn’t belong here in the north, but I’m glad he came to me and gave me that perspective. He had a true passion for food and a lust for life that I’ve never seen before, and that I don’t know if I’ll ever see again.
“They were my sister and brother, and had been for more than half of my life. They kept me grounded through the worst moments I’ve ever experienced, guided me through every decision I made, stood beside me through every success and every mistake, and watched over me when I needed them most. I loved them. And they gave their lives for me, for this city, for this world.
“To honor their memory, this statue,” she said as she gestured to the statue, “has been built to watch over the royal palace and all who enter here as they once watched over me. Where Hope’s Point is a beacon of light for others to follow, they will be a beacon of light for all of us to look to for inspiration.”
As Blackburn looked upon the statue, the image of her closest friends, she paused for a long moment, then turned back to the crowd. “I now turn over the podium to anypony who wants to speak about any of those who have fallen. Thank you.”
She descended from the stage and took a seat at the front of the crowd just before the stage that had been sectioned off just for her, with Lockwood by her side. He set one hoof against her back, the other on her hoof to comfort her, but neither said anything; a few camera crews and reporters picked up on this.
Blackburn then sat there, stone-faced, as other ponies came up to speak; General Avalanche went first, as nearly all of the fallen were in his militia force and he blamed himself for their deaths. She didn’t hear his speech, too lost in her own thoughts to focus on anything but keeping her expression emotionless. She didn’t hear the next speech either, or the next, or the one after that; she didn’t even notice who it was that was going up to speak. She didn’t even notice when the service ended, just going through the motions at that point.
She was still unaware and lost in thought as Lockwood guided her through the royal palace, just the two of them alone—she refused to be assigned a guard just yet—to a private sitting room on the palace’s west side. Inside the room were Stouthoof and Shortcake, Flathoof’s parents and Lockwood’s adoptive parents. The former was a tall butter-yellow earth pony stallion with a short strawberry-colored mane; the latter, a tan earth pony mare with a long, curly orange mane.
The two didn’t say a word at first; Blackburn barely even acknowledged their presence. She registered a few words Lockwood was saying here and there, but only bits and pieces. Best she could tell, they were there to offer support to their future daughter-in-law. She didn’t even really notice Lockwood take something from Shortcake, at least until he turned to her to show it.
A photograph. No, the photograph. The one of her, and Gadget, and Crossfire, and Lockwood, all together at Crown Jewel’s dance recital all those years ago. Up until a month ago, Blackburn had looked at that picture every single morning so that she could keep Lockwood fresh in her mind, so that the first thing she thought of every day was of their efforts up north so many years ago, of those still fighting to escape the darkness of New Pandemonium.
But seeing that picture, of a happy memory she had with her two best friends, was too much. All of that emotion that she’d been suppressing for the past month came flooding out all at once. She cried, honestly, for the first time since the death of her father and stepmother, harder even than she had cried when her grandfather and mother had died. She just broke down and let the tears finally flow.
Lockwood was there for her, wrapping her up in a tight hug as she cradled the memory in her hooves, tears running down his face as he comforted her. Stouthoof and Shortcake were there for her as well, joining in the hug with earnest love and concern. They were all there to help Blackburn weather the storm of emotion; so when that burst of sorrow had passed, when she was ready, they would also be there to help her celebrate the lives of her closest friends, to remember the happiness and joy Gadget and Crossfire had brought into her life.