Author's Note

Hello, hello, hello! (If only I could place a Jim Carrey GIF here...)

Will here. Sorry for the lack of updates in Vengeance and Rising. I've been really busy and have fallen so far behind FF schedule its impossible. I have Drill and Band Comp coming up so unfortunately, stuff will still be sparratic at best, but such is the life of myself.

Signed,

William Sable

Chapter 21: Where is he?

"Where is he?"

Silverhoof smiled smugly. Looking out over the city that was now essentially his, he remained motionless.

"Where is he damn it?"

Turning around slowly, he chuckled, responding, "Ah, Major, how delightful to see you. On what grounds do you grace my office?"

"You know damn well why!" Spitfire shouted, storming across the office.

Puckering his lips and narrowing his eyes, Silverhoof retorted, "No, I don't think I do."

A creak at the door caught both Silverhoof's and Spitfire's eyes, causing them to glance at the entrance. A unicorn agent in a grey suit entered, levitating a platter in front of him.

"Ah, it appears you're just in time for tea," Silverhoof noted, watching the agent move toward the desk, "Why don't you join me, and we can figure out your problems?"

Silverhoof knew what was coming next. A he watched Spitfire's hoof fly out, smashing into the hovering platter. A rain of hot tea and shards of flew across the room. As the clatter settled and the tea hit the rug, the agent let out a defeated sigh.

"Apologies sir, I'll have this cleaned up ASAP," he stated in a sad tone.

"It's alright… the Major here is just a bit… emotional," the Director said, grinning slyly.

Opening one of the drawers in his desk, the director produced his ever emptying bottle of sherry once again.

"Are you sure you don't want any?" he asked once again, raising an eyebrow.

"Enough with the bullshit Silverhoof! Where is he?"

"You keep saying where is he, but have been rather moot on who he is," Silverhoof stated before swigging a glass of sherry back.

Glass in hoof, Silverhoof stared down Spitfire. The sheer rage in her eyes was unimaginable. Her chest heaved in and out, as she breathed angrily and heavily.

"Where. Is. Captain. Armor?" she muttered, her voice dark and filled with malice.

"Ah, yes, Captain Armor. Truly a sad situation he is in," Silverhoof commented, placing his empty glass down on the scarlet desk in front of him.

"If you killed him-"

"Don't flatter yourself," Silverhoof interrupted, "Or him. No, the Captain was found poking around in some restricted files regarding one former Captain Storm, the Wonderbolts, the ESS and myself. An odd combination, wouldn't you agree?"

Spitfire opened her mouth to respond, only to close it immediately. To her surprise, the sound of flutes and drums filled her ears. Frowning, she merely stared at Silverhoof. The Director still smiled evilly.

"Come, take a look, Major," he said quietly, motioning toward the window.

The mare eyed Silverhoof cautiously before moving to the window beside him. Looking out, she felt a cold chill run up her spine. The sight before her was breath taking, awe inspiring, and terrifying all in the same instant:

The entire courtyard in front of the ESS Spire was now covered in a mass of black and red uniformed ponies, all carrying large grey weapons.

"This is what you fail to see Major. What you, Armor… even your precious Storm."

Her eyes still fixed on the formation below, Spitfire growled, "I can see it clear as day."

"No, you can't."

Moving away from the window, Silverhoof began to pour himself another glass of sherry.

"What you fail to see," he explained, placing the bottle back on the desk with a dull thud, "Is the changes going on in society. We are entering a new age Major. You and Armor may have your place in it, but Storm… Storm is a different kind of soldier."

"Don't talk about Hotshot like that. He's a damn good soldier, and you know it," Spitfire snapped, whipping her gaze to the Director.

"Too good. That's why his usefulness ran its course."

Raising an eyebrow curiously, Spitfire took one last glance at the show of force below, before walking towards the Director slowly.

"Explain."

Chuckling, Silverhoof backed away around his desk, saying "Storm is an old soul. He believes in honour, chivalry, and duty."

"Anypony in the military has to, it's our code," Spitfire responded, frowning.

"Ah yes, but Storm holds these values most highly, and to the most literal extent. His duty to the crown forces him to fight the ESS. Your duty does too, but you have much to lose."

"Everypony does."

"That's where you're wrong. You don't know your Captain Storm as much as you'd like to believe…"

Silverhoof trailed off ominously, turning to admire the large portrait of himself hung upon the wall.

"Storm has nothing to lose," he continued after a few seconds, "He has alienated his family, friends, everypony. Well… except one pony. And she is why he is being kept at bay."

"Dash?"

Laughing sinisterly, Silverhoof slowly turned to Spitfire. Only now did she notice a major change in him. There was something wrong. Something odd about his eyes. Something off about his mane… he was no longer himself.

"You are smarter than you appear, Major."

Spitfire felt another wave of cold shatter her spine. This time, the feeling was much more intense, and caused by the odd look Silverhoof was giving her. Attempting to shake the feeling away, she shuddered, before renewing her question.

"Where is Armor?"

Silverhoof turned around again, staring at the portrait of himself. The likeness was uncanny, though Silverhoof's portrait was in a much more regal looking position, wearing a very fancy looking, bright red dress uniform.

"He's been temporarily relieved of command until his background check can be cleared by the Equestrian Secret Service… I do hope it doesn't take too long…"

Sighing, Spitfire drooped her head.

"So that's it? Just relieve everyone who ever questioned you of duty?"

"I'm afraid so. Now I'd suggest vacating the premises. We wouldn't want anyone getting any ideas about ulterior motives…"

Silverhoof moved swiftly to his desk, pressing a small red button.

"Would we?" he added ominously.

Spitfire turned to see the door now open, with two black suited agents standing in the doorway, staring at her. Moving past them, Spitfire resisted the urge smash both of their faces, content with glaring at them until they shirked under her intense gaze.

"Good day, Major," Silverhoof shouted as Spitfire left.

With his parting words, Silverhoof nodded to his agents. The two slammed the door shut behind them, and moved on, tailing Spitfire in a very obvious manner. As the Wonderbolt Major opened the door to the stairs, she took one last glance back at the doors to the office. There was now an air about the entire ESS that wasn't there before; an air of confidence and malice.

Descending the stairs, the sound of military music filled her ears once again. Now she recognized the tune. In fact, she recognized it too well.

"Do you, Shadow Storm, swear your allegiance to the RAF, and her majesty Princess Celestia, and all of her successors?"

"I vow to thee, my country, all earthly things above."

"Do you swear your whole self into the service?"

"Entire and whole and perfect, the service of my love."

"Do you swear to follow the RAF into battle, no matter what be the price?"

"By the love that asks no question, the love that stands the test, I do."

"Do you swear to defend the land, from any and all threats?"

"From any foe or assaulter, all of them I will best."

"Will you keep yourself as a paragon of virtue for the rest of your days?"

"By the love that never falters, the love that pays the price."

"Will you be willing to lay down your life for the good of all ponykind?"

"By the love of my service; the love that makes undaunted the final sacrifice."

The Final Sacrifice…