Twilight walked down the hall, staring at the tracker as the line within slowly swung to point more and more at the wall. This might just be it. She had a compass pointing to one side of a communication relay, the side of someone who’d tried to have Applejack killed. Someone who was almost definitely trying to have Twilight killed as well. With a little luck, they might be able to get every little bit of this whole mess sorted out before tomorrow, and she could rest easily tonight.
Of course, it might be pointing at a patsy. Or the culprit might not have the earpiece. Or any one of a number of other things. But Twilight tried not to think about that.
“Do you really think you can talk Mtendaji into giving herself up?” asked Stormwalker. “Assuming it’s her, she did try to kill you after she knew you could move the sun.”
“I have no idea,” Twilight said, no taking her eyes off the tracker, “but I can try.”
“No offense, but I thi-”
“Don’t try to sway her,” Applejack said. “When she gets like this, there ain’t nothin’ y’all can do to change her mind.”
Stormwalker paused. “Absolutely nothing?”
“Absolutely nothin’.”
Twilight barely noticed. She was too wrapped up in following the tracker.
Finally, the tracker was pointing perfectly perpendicularly to the wall. A blank wall, but then it was unlikely it’d be pointing at a door. Twilight lifted the tracker up and down. The light moved enough for Twilight to guess that the other earpiece was less than fifty feet away. She looked down one side of the hall. The next door was quite a ways off. She looked down the other side of the hall.
The door to the Imayini consulate was less than ten feet away.
Twilight looked at Applejack and Stormwalker. Stormwalker huffed and rolled her eyes. Applejack jerked her head at the door. “Well, go on.” Twilight nodded and put her hoof on the door pedal.
Someone yelled down the hall. “YourHighnessIwouldstronglyrecommendagainstthat!” And then Captain Mlinzi of the Zebrabwean Royal Guard had plastered himself in front of the door, looking terrified and breathing heavily.
“Um… hello.” Twilight took a few steps back so her muzzle wasn’t less than an inch from Mlinzi’s. She glanced to one side. A small group of zebras, all of them armored, was following Mlinzi.
“Hello,” said Mlinzi in a voice on the verge of panic. “Your Highness, do not go in there. We have evidence that your would-be murderer is a me-”
“-is Mtendaji?”
“-mber of… Ima…” Mlinzi blinked. “Y-yeah, actually. How, how’d you know?”
“A bunch of little things added up to her,” said Twilight. “It’s a long story. How’d you know?”
“Also a long story, but tracking down things,” said Mlinzi. “The quarrel. Talking to the cooks who were responsible for that dinner. Things like that. But what really did it was the assassins who attacked your friend Spike. It was a bit tricky — magic was involved, and no offense, but I frigging hate magic — but the information we got from their interrogations let us follow the money trail back to Mtendaji. And as far as we know, she’s in there.” He tapped the consulate door.
And that was it. Confirmation from another source. Mtendaji definitely did it. Twilight expected it to feel like a lightning bolt, but if anything, it was more of a faint, half-hearted spark. Lackluster. Yeah, that’s the answer. You knew it already for quite some time, didn’t you? Well, at least you know for sure, now. But if the Zebrabwean Guard knew, too, they’d be more effective at putting her away than Twilight could hope for.
“So if you know it’s Mtendaji, why’re you going in there?” said Mlinzi. “What were you planning on doing?”
“I’m not sure, to be honest,” said Twilight. “I was thinking that maybe I could convince her to turn herself in.”
“If you could, that’d be great,” said Mlinzi. “I brought along some of my zebras-” He pointed over his shoulder at the group of seven weapon-carrying zebras that had arrived. “-just in case things go wrong, but if you can just get her to walk out, I would love you forever.”
“Uh… okay.” Twilight put her hoof back on the pedal, stepped, and- “It’s locked.”
“Joy.” Mlinzi pointed to the group of zebras. “One of you, go back to the barracks and tell them we need the ba-”
“I don’t think you’ll need to go quite that far,” Twilight said. “Hang on a sec.” She reached out with her magic and began poking the door around with it. The tingle from grounding still felt strange, but with earth pony magic mixed in, it didn’t actually do anything besides bug her. The lock itself was a simple deadbolt one, and Twilight flicked it back in a second. She nudged the door open. “And there we go.”
Mlinzi stared at the door. “Okay, never mind. I don’t hate magic. I’m in a love-hate relationship with it.”
“Trust me, y’all ain’t seen the half of it yet,” said Applejack. “Y’all ain’t seen the half of the half of it.”
“I can only imagine.” Mlinzi looked at Twilight, at Stormwalker, at Applejack. Turning to his zebras, he said, “I think I’ll be safe going in alone with them. You all stay out here, but charge in if you hear the signal.”
“Is the signal screaming bloody murder and lots of obscenities?” piped up a zebra near the back.
“The signal is screaming bloody murder and lots of obscenities,” Mlinzi said with a nod.
The lobby was deserted except for Uvivi and Visi having a conversation across the receptionist’s desk. Uvivi’s nose horn still hadn’t grown back (Twilight briefly wondered how long it took for abada horns to grow, and if their forehead and nose horns were any different, structurally), but she’d crowned the top of the nub with a little sort of cap.
“-which is crazy,” Uvivi said, “because there’s no way th-” Upon hearing Twilight’s group enter the lobby, she twitched and spun around. She blinked. “Um… Visi, weren’t you supposed to lock that door? The consulate is closed, right?”
“I… It is, and I did,” Visi said slowly. “I know I did.”
“Oooookay, then,” said Uvivi. She coughed and grinned. “Anyway, um, nice to see you again, Twilight, even if you broke in for it.” She leaned to one side and stared at the door. “How’d you do it, anyway? The door was grounded. Any chance you can teach me that? Why’re you here?”
Mlinzi spoke up before Twilight could. “We were looking for Mtendaji. You wouldn’t happen to know where she is, would you?”
Uvivi frowned. “Uh… I don’t think so…”
“In her office,” said Visi. “Take that door-” (Twilight stole a quick look at the tracker. It was pointing roughly at that door.) “-head down the hall, third door on right.”
“Thank you,” Mlinzi said with a nod. Closely followed by the ponies, he set off through the door and down the hall beyond. It wasn’t especially long or busy, and they were halfway down when-
“Hey!” Uvivi came trotting from the lobby and fell into line next to Twilight. “Um, why do you all want to see Mtendaji?” She craned her head to whisper to Twilight. “Especially the guard. That never means anything good. Why the guard? What happened?”
Even after studying friendship for years, Twilight still didn’t know how to handle questions like that. She settled for blunt. “Mtendaji’s the one who’s been trying to kill me.”
Uvivi blanched. “What?” she said quietly. “That’s… No. Really? She’s the one who…?”
“She tried to go after me, too,” added Applejack. “Twice. And we’ve got evidence for that, too.”
“Um, um, okay,” mumbled Uvivi. She rumpled her mane. “That’s, um, wow. Okay. Okay. You, you really have evidence?”
“That’s what I said.”
“Well, it’s, I know,” said Uvivi, still playing with her mane, “but it’s, um, it’s a lot to take in. Maybe. If it’s true. It’s, I mean, it probably is, but, um-”
“Your Highness,” cut in Mlinzi, “Mtendaji’s office is locked. Is there any chance you-”
“Can you stop asking her to do things?” asked Stormwalker. “She’s a princess, not a-”
Mlinzi interrupted again. “Do you want to catch Mtendaji?”
“Yes.”
“Can you open the door?”
“…No.”
“I’d open it if I could,” said Mlinzi. “But I can’t. So…” He turned to Twilight expectantly. “Please, Your Highness?”
Twilight threw Stormwalker a look as she magically fiddled with the lock. “I’d be doing this even if Mlinzi wasn’t here, you know.”
Stormwalker huffed. She did that a lot.
Mtendaji’s office was quite a bit larger than Twilight had been expecting, large enough to fit the whole party in comfortably and then some. Of course, she was a CEO, but this was still just a consulate, not Imayini’s headquarters. The back wall was lined with shelves, which were filled with haphazardly stacked binders and overflowing papers. There wasn’t much in the way of decoration beyond a painting of the sun setting behind a mountain. Mtendaji herself was hunched over a desk, scribbling something down. Compared to her, the desk was oversized, a bit big even for Twilight. Maybe it’d been originally designed for a zebra.
Mtendaji looked up, blinked and, when she saw Mlinzi, visibly twitched. “Um… that door was locked.”
“It was,” said Twilight.
“And grounded.”
“It was.”
“…May I ask how you did it?”
“You may not.” Twilight didn’t like to admit it, but knowing Mtendaji was her almost-murderer, she found stringing her along to be more enjoyable than it had a right to be. “And you wouldn’t be able to do it even if I told you.”
Mtendaji blinked again, then grinned. It was almost convincing. “So. Um. Hey. What brings you in here?”
Twilight didn’t say anything and kept staring at the tracker. It was pointing towards the back wall, right at the safe. She moved it back and forth; the light moved more than it ever had before, always pointing at the safe. She picked her next words carefully. “My friend Applejack found a magical communication artifact of some kind on in the Serembarti,” she said (Applejack smiled hesitantly and waved), “and according to my tracking spell, the other side of it is in your safe.”
Mtendaji froze for an instant, blinked, but quickly recovered. “So, what’re you saying?” she asked. “You think that just because it points to my safe, I’m involved? No offense, but you might’ve messed up your tracking spell. You think I’m the one that hired that bandit?”
Twilight and Applejack exchanged glances. “We ain’t said nothin’ ‘bout no bandits,” said Applejack.
Mtendaji’s mouth began curling into an “O”.
Uvivi cleared her throat. “M-ma’am, you- you weren’t involved in this, w-were you?”
“I, I, no,” said Mtendaji quietly. “Don’t, don’t be ridiculous.”
“Ma’am,” Mlinzi said flatly, “we’ve traced the money used to pay for the assassins who tried to kill two members of the Equestrian ambassadorial mission back to you. And that’s just the start. You won’t get anywhere if you keep denying this.”
Mtendaji froze, then huffed. “Fine,” she muttered. “Yes, I tried to have Princess Twilight killed.”
“You WHAT?!” bellowed Uvivi. “That’s- that’s- No! You- You can’t- NO!”
“Do you know how close we are to going belly-up?” snapped Mtendaji. “One good deal isn’t going to save us, and if Equestria tries to muscle in on-”
“But- But- No!” spluttered Uvivi. “No! That’s- I- You know what, I quit! You can do your own diplomacy, you-! You-! Gah!” Before anyone could say anything else, she stomped out of the room and screamed up and down the halls, “Mtendaji tried to kill Princess Twilight! Mtendaji tried to kill Princess Twilight!” The echoes were still ringing several seconds later.
It was Applejack who broke the silence. “Hold up. Y’all thought we were gonna try to… to muscle in on your bit of business?”
“Well, yeah,” Mtendaji said, “why else wo-”
“Excuse me.” Something bumped Twilight from behind. Okubi was entering the office, lightly shoving aside anyone in her way. She tapped Mlinzi on the shoulder. “I would like a word with Mtendaji. Right here, right now.”
“Look, ma’am,” Mlinzi said, glaring at her, “I get that you probably want to have a nice chat with her, but we’re i-”
“I would like a word with Mtendaji,” repeated Okubi. “Right here, right now. Ten seconds will be sufficient.”
“Fine.” Mlinzi stepped to one side. “One one-thousand,” he whispered loudly.
Mtendaji rolled her eyes as Okubi stepped up to the desk. “I got this, Okubi, you don’t need to babys-”
In a flash, Okubi reached across the desk, hooked her front hooves behind Mtendaji’s neck, and smashed her head into the desk. Hard. The entire desk shook; papers fell to the floor, an inkwell rolled off and shattered, and when Mtendaji raised her head back up, she was moaning and clutching her nose between her hooves. A few drops of blood dribbled out and dropped onto the desktop.
“Imbecile,” said Okubi. Then she turned around and walked right out of the office, everyone staring after her in shock. Did that really just happen?
Mlinzi broke the silence with a cough. “Nine one-thousand,” he muttered. “Huh.”
Mtendaji dabbed at her nose, glaring at the droplet of blood on one of the tips of her hooves. “Stupid…” she muttered, wiping it off on her desk.
Twilight almost asked her if she was okay, purely by reflex. But she didn’t really care, one way or another, and Mtendaji obviously wasn’t hurting that badly. Besides, some small part of Twilight said, she deserved it.
“So that’s it?” Mlinzi asked. “You tried to kill off an ambassador just because you were afraid she might be a business rival?”
“To be fair, she and her country’d be an exceptional business rival,” Mtendaji said, wiping her nose off with a tissue, “but I don’t get what’s so ‘that’s it?’ about it. She was going to take our money.”
“Well, to be honest,” said Twilight, “trying to cause an international incident just for money is… kinda disappointing.”
“Disappointing?” said Mtendaji. “You find money disappointing? It’s… It’s money.”
“And that’s the thing: money’s everywhere,” said Twilight. “They make more of it every day. It’s way too common for something like… something like this.”
“…But it’s money. The stuff you buy other stuff with. The stuff nations depend on. It’s one of the most important resources in the world. How is that disappointing?”
“‘Cause money ain’t the only thing out there,” said Applejack. “And money can’t buy everythin’. Happiness, to start.”
“No, but you can rent it.”
“But it’s still just money!” said Twilight. “You tried to kill the sovereign of another nation just for money!”
“In this case, it’s not just money,” said Mtendaji with a snort. “It’s lots of money. Our last mine out west was a colossal bust, basically a smelter we kept throwing lijamu into, and we’re barely staying afloat. And if you- ponies came over here, you’d see our predicament and snatch all our opportunities right out from under us, giving you access to Zebrabwe’s foreign coal business.”
“I know you won’t believe me,” said Twilight, “but Equestria isn’t here for money.”
“Uh-huh, sure. And how do you explain the pony running around, gathering all the information she can about Zebrabwe?”
“Her interests are strictly academic, an-”
“Hardly. She’s traveled too far for that,” Mtendaji responded. “She’s more than just a professor.” She sighed and slumped in her seat. “You know, what’re the odds? I make a few faked laws to close off the ports, and not only does she decide to stay in the most isolated one out there, but it’s the same one you landed in.”
Which confirmed another one of Twilight’s theories, but that was pretty minor by now. “And the kashata? Was that poisoned?”
“Will you believe me if I say no?”
“No.”
“Then why bother asking?” snapped Mtendaji. “Yes, I poisoned it. Uvivi came back one night, blabbing about this diplomat she had to help with, so, well, I had some poisoned food made to smuggle in with magic and give to you. A little magic kept it from affecting me, too.”
Figuring she might as well cover all her bases, Twilight asked, “What about the theater?”
“I figured if I mentioned it, you’d think about going there. Set up a zebra there ahead of time, just in case.” Mtendaji grinned crookedly. “Almost worked, too. You getting separated from your assistant was just a bonus; thought he’d go with you.”
Applejack squirmed her way to the front of Mtendaji’s desk. “And what about me?” she asked. “What’s goin’ on with y’all tryin’ to kill me? I ain’t even done anythin’ yet.”
“Last-ditch attempt to bring Twilight down,” mumbled Mtendaji. “After the theater, there was no way I’d get to her again, not directly. But if you died, she’d be depressed, and she’d probably screw up something during the talk with Inkosi. Not much, but all I had to go on.”
“Thank you for being so helpful,” said Mlinzi.
Mtendaji shrugged. “You already knew it was me, so why bother trying to hide it? It’d come out eventually. And you wouldn’t believe me if I lied. Heck, you wouldn’t believe me if I told the truth and you didn’t like it. Why bother trying to lie?”
“Regardless. Now, if you’ll come with me-”
But Mtendaji was smirking. “Nope. You can’t do that.”
It was like Twilight’s brain shattered. There… there was no way that was possible, right? Mtendaji had tried to kill an ambassador, she’d flat-out admitted to doing it, so why did she look so confident about wiggling out of it?
“This is a consulate,” said Mtendaji. “That means it’s technically Wilayabadn territory.”
Oh, no. No. Not that. That meant-
“That means you cannot remove me from here,” crowed Mtendaji. “You can’t cross borders and drag people back over to Zebrabwe, because you’d be violating Wilayabada’s sovereignty. That includes me. You really think I’d just tell you everything if you could force me out?”
“Ah,” said Mlinzi, who looked a lot less perturbed than he should have. “So that’s how it is, then.”
“Oh, come on!” yelled Applejack. “That’s a big steaming load of night fertilizer!”
Mtendaji shrugged in faux resignation and smirked. “That’s the way it is, sorry. I am going to stay right here on my little bit of Wilayabada, until someone from Wilayabada comes and gets me out, and there’s nothing you can do to drag me out of it.” Her smirk grew wider.
Mlinzi coughed and adjusted his armor. “Very well. In that case, as it is actively protecting an enemy of the state of Zebrabwe, you may henceforth consider this little bit of Wilayabada under siege.”
Mtendaji froze, her smirk suddenly turning brittle.
“We will shut off the power within the hour,” continued Mlinzi. “Goods will not be allowed in. This includes food. Additional people will not be allowed in. The exit will be kept under watch at all times by a minimum of five guards. Anyone who leaves will be food, board, and shelter, but closely watched to be sure they do not return. All of these measures will be lifted should you turn yourself over to the Zebrabwean Royal Guard.”
The smirk slowly started sliding off Mtendaji’s face.
“Fortunately,” Mlinzi went on (Twilight could hear a bit of smugness creeping into her voice), “once you do turn yourself over, your trial will be quite swift, considering you just confessed to the Captain of the Zebrabwean Royal Guard, one of the Princesses of Equestria, and numerous other witnesses.” He tipped an imaginary hat. “Thank you for not thinking this through in the slightest and have a nice day.” He turned around, flicked his tail, and walked out of the office with his head held high, leaving Mtendaji inside in a state of shock.
Twilight took a few steps back, looking between Mtendaji and the door out, her mind racing. With a whisper, Applejack quickly voiced what Twilight was thinking: “That… that ain’t it, is it?”
“I… I don’t know,” muttered Twilight. “I… guess.” She started flipping through the bits of diplomatic knowledge she had that were relevant to this situation. The problem was that, because she didn’t have the slightest interest in flaunting Zebrabwe’s laws, there wasn’t much of it. She barely knew anything about how consulates or embassies interacted with the outside world, or whether they even worked the same way Equestria treated them, or- She cut herself off. “Let’s just get going.” She left the room; Applejack and Stormwalker followed a moment later.
Abadas and zebras alike were poking their heads out of rooms to look up and down the hall. Some of them were muttering: had that really just happened? Was their CEO really a would-be murderer? A few of them were staring at the ponies. Some in shock, some in accusation, but none of them made any move to stop the trio. Twilight wasn’t exactly sure what she’d do if she were in their situation; what could she have done?
Outside the consulate, there were six zebras still there: four of them, who were lounging about with spears, another one, who was overseeing the first four, and Mlinzi, who was screaming through clenched teeth and smashing his (helmeted) head against the wall. He paused once Twilight and Applejack were out. “Hello, Princess. Hello, um… other ambassador.”
“Applejack,” Applejack prompted.
“Right. Sorry. Hello, Ambassador Applejack,” Mlinzi said. “Hello, bodyguard.” And then he went right back to screaming and smashing his head. Twilight and Applejack exchanged Looks, and even Stormwalker looked a bit weirded out.
Eventually, Mlinzi stopped his stress-relieving exercise. “Sorry,” he muttered, “but… gah!” Wham. “Of all the… stupid… little…”
“There’s really nothin’ more y’all can do?” Applejack asked. “I mean, she’s right there.” She pointed back at the consulate.
“Politics,” spat Mlinzi. “It’s… it’s complicated. Long story short, no, there isn’t.”
“We could drag her out.”
“That’d qualify as an illegal kidnapping,” mumbled Mlinzi. “Look, short of her coming out of her own free will, there’s no way we’re getting her out and still getting her in jail.” He turned to the small group of zebras still in front of the door. “Remember your orders. Don’t let anyone in. Arrest anyone who comes out.” They saluted, and Mlinzi set off down the hallway, hanging his head.
Twilight trotted up to Mlinzi’s side. “I know that you need to think of that as Wilayabadan land,” she said, “but… but it can’t extend to protecting a would-be murderer, can it?”
“It can, and it does,” muttered Mlinzi. He sighed. “It’s complicated. If we say we can violate Wilayabada’s sovereignty for this good reason, then what other good reasons can we say we can violate it for? It’s a slippery slope. Or at least, that’s what the politicians will say.” He groaned again. “Believe me, I wanted to drag that scumbag out in a headlock, but Inkosi specifically — personally — ordered me to not use force once we entered the consulate. It’d avoid any ‘international shenanigans’. And, honestly, we were pushing our luck as it is, entering the consulate without permission.”
“Oh. Great.” Twilight hated politics. Hated hated hated hated hated politics.
She was pulled out of her funk by someone yelling from down the hall. “I’m telling you, I’m not with her! I had no idea what she was doing!” Twilight recognized that voice and bolted down the hall, Stormwalker on her heels.
Uvivi was being escorted away by two zebras. They weren’t restraining her and she was making no move to run, but they weren’t listening to her protests, either. “Look, go ask Princess Twilight, I’m-”
Twilight cleared her throat. “You can let her go,” she said loudly. “She’s good. She wasn’t involved at all.”
The trio turned around as one. Uvivi started grinning, but the guards looked skeptical. Mlinzi trotted up after Twilight. “What’s going on here?” he asked.
“This one exited the consulate shortly after we arrived,” said one of the guards, pointing to Uvivi, “but Princess Twilight says we should let her go.”
Mlinzi cocked her head at Twilight, who said, “There’s nothing wrong with her. I know for a fact that we can trust her.”
“Your Highness,” Mlinzi said slowly, “she might be working for Mtendaji. Would you bet your life on her not being involved?”
“She saved my life before I made that bet. Remember, she’s the one who ground up her horn for an antidote.”
“She actually did,” Stormwalker interjected. “There’s no way she’s a danger.”
Mlinzi blinked. “She… she ground up her horn?” He coughed and shuddered. “Well, um… release her, then.” He rubbed his nose and shuddered again.
The guards looked at each other. One of them shrugged, and lightly nudged Uvivi away. She half-toppled out from between them and to Twilight’s side. Uvivi shook herself off (not that she was dirty) and said, “Thanks.”
“I have to report on this,” said Mlinzi. “Well, not this-” He pointed at Uvivi. “-but that.” He jerked his head back towards the consulate. “If you need me, your guards know where to find me.” He and the two other guards left, leaving Twilight, Uvivi, and Stormwalker alone in the hall.
“I’m sorry you had to go through that,” Twilight said to Uvivi. “Learning your boss tried to kill me can’t feel good. Are you feeling okay?”
“Nope. Totally screwed,” muttered Uvivi. “I’ve got no job, no place to sleep, maybe no money available…” She rubbed her face. “That was most definitely the stupidest decision I’ve made in my entire life.”
“Don’t worry,” said Twilight. “You’ll get through this.”
“I know, but until I get back to Wilayabada, I… I have no idea what I’ll do.”
“Maybe you can stay with us for a while,” Twilight suggested. “We’ve got room, I’m sure the others won’t mind-”
“I won’t,” Stormwalker said quickly.
“-and it’s the least I can do,” finished Twilight. She looked over her shoulder. “What do you think, Applej-”
The hall was empty. Applejack wasn’t there.
...AJ went back in, didn't she? Goddammit.
7621081 yes I'm willing to bet she did.
You know, it occurs to me that the situation could have easily been handled by having Twilight drag Mtendaji out - there is no breach of protocol there. And that's besides the point that Wilaya and Equestria have signed no treaties or agreements between themselves in the first place.
Firstly, Mtendaji has committed multiple assassination attempts on an Equestrian head of state. If she does so while hiding behind the position granted to her by Wilaya government, then that's more than enough to establish that a state of war exists between the two nations. Which renders the point of territory moot, because war.
Secondly, Mtendaji has attempted to inflict harm (read: murder) upon Equestrian citizens (Applejack, Spike) - this, once again, gives Twilight all the excuse she needs (which, again, isn't really any - no official treaties nor agreements exist between the two nations at this time) to take any steps she needs to ensure the safety of Equestrian citizens against the aggressor- as a ruler of her nation, that's her first priority and duty.
Thirdly, this allows the zebras to remain uninvolved - as this takes place on Wilaya territory, it's not their place to interfere between relations of Wilaya and another foreign power. If Wilaya has decided to essentially declare war on Equestria and is no suffering an enemy invasion ... well, not really their problem. Everyone wins.
Then, once Twlight has dragged her out of the embasy, they can either respectfully ask Twilight if they could take custody of Mtendaji so she can answer for the crimes committed on zebra soil (several assassination attempts), or do nothing and allow Twilight to drag Mtendaji to the Equestrian embasy - which would count as Equestrian soil, which again allows them to wash their hooves of the whole ordeal.
So ... yeah, Twilight simply should have restrained Mtendaji herself. She has essentially declared war on Equestria already (a formal declaration isn't strictly necessary if the actions speak for themselves), and claims of diplomatic immunity have no bearing on Equestria anyway before any such treaties are actually hashed out or agreed upon - which Twilight has never done.
So yeah, that's a bit of a derp moment for Twilight, or might be her inexperience showing - she isn't bound by any treaties that exist between the zebras an Wilaya, as they don't apply to her. She represents her own government, not the zebras - something she should have picked up on sooner.
Now, was it only Mtendaji involved?
7621488 Ah, but you must consider the possibility that Gondwana and Wilaya have some sort of mutual defense treaty... which of course wouldn't apply given that Wilaya is the aggressor here.
Following the lead of Skydrake, it occurs to me that Equestria quite possibly does not have the concept of sovereignty. In show, their interactions with foreign countries, official or otherwise, are filled with an abundant lack of concern about interfering with internal politics. Griffonstone is a particularly powerful example, given that Pinkie and Rainbow more or less explicitly try to to undertake regime change with nary a concern about how that involves them in griffon politics.
This actually makes logical sense, because historically the concept of sovereignty developed rather recently, in the 17th and 18th centuries. Older theories of governance tended to have a universal monarch (for example, the Caliph or the Emperor of China in two particularly successful models) who theoretically had authority over the whole world, so that other rulers were subordinate to him. Most such models, particularly in feudal Europe (which tended to treat the Emperor of the Holy Roman Empire as the universal monarch) also incorporated bidirectional monarch-subordinate relations, that is they considered that the monarch had obligations as well as powers, so he didn't have (theoretically) unlimited power over his subjects. For example, he might be required to provide peace and good order, or face replacement. A well-known example is the Mandate of Heaven invoked originally by the Zhou to justify their overthrow of the Shang, and the influential Chinese philosophy of Confucianism in general has a number of such bidirectional mandates.
However, in Europe in the 17th century there were two very important developments that undermined these older conceptions. First was the development of more sophisticated and complex bureaucracies and bureaucratic methods of management that supplanted the need for complex hierarchies of nobility to manage the country. Older empires had simply had to empower local nobles by giving them control over military forces, since there was no way for them to otherwise manage huge, sprawling empires of millions of people. With such systems of management there tends to be a continuum of subordination, from nobles and courtiers in the capital who fawn on the monarch to those on the other side of the world who've never heard of him or her. In such cases, however, there's not really a clear distinction between "inside" and "outside" the state; nobles who nominally swear allegiance to the monarch are perfectly free to intrigue and operate on their own due to the trouble of reigning them in, whereas rulers who are nominally outside the state will frequently work with it to advance their own interests. This makes it far more difficult to see the state as an entity holding power over a particular territory, that is as sovereign, versus an entity holding power over particular people, that is feudal. The development of the bureaucratic state changed this by linking the periphery of a state far more tightly to its core and preventing local "rulers" (bureaucrats) from developing the personal ties which had often help distance them from the capital in previous eras, creating a state which had a far more defined territorial extent and significantly more actual power over that territory.
Second, in the 17th century there were a series of major civil or quasi-civil wars such as the English Civil War, the French Wars of Religion, and the Thirty Years War which provided the impetus for desiring much stronger national authority. To many at the time, it seemed that if you just had a strong absolute ruler, the Leviathan of Thomas Hobbes, it could force people to behave, follow a particular religious creed (all of these wars were closely involved in conflicts between Catholicism and Protestantism) and avoid civil wars of this sort. At the same time the Thirty Years War showed the dangers of other countries intervening in areas where they didn't have or desire any political authority. The war would not have lasted anywhere close to thirty years had France and Sweden not become involved on the Protestant side, and Spain on the Catholic (similar to a number of Cold War-era conflicts that dragged out because each side was being supported by different players). Existing theories of universal monarchy tended to support Catholicism and were somewhat discredited by the Thirty Years War, in particular (since the Holy Roman Emperor was the traditional universal monarch in Western European thought), and the European powers were much too nearly equal for any one of them to turn over the playing board and establish a universal monarchy in relation to Europe, the way the Chinese had in Eastern Asia. The result was the development of theories to justify the existence of many independent states, and to justify the powers of each state in their internal political struggles (for example, of Louis XIV to gather in power and become an absolute monarch, or of Parliament in its efforts to gather in power and become an absolute legislature), that is the development of the idea of sovereignty.
Anyway, Equestria seems not to have any of the conditions that gave rise of the concept of sovereignty in the real world. Celestia and Luna (and to a lesser extent Cadance and Twilight) have a far better claim to be universal monarchs than even the strongest emperors and caliphs of the real world, given that they, you know, bring day and night, while the fact that Equestria has had centuries of (apparent) peace and prosperity under their rule significantly undermines the desire to justify autocratic rule for the sake of preventing civil war. Moreover, Equestria seems quite large and powerful compared to the states around it, so there's also no need to justify why other large, powerful states exist, as there was for 17th century thinkers, and Celestia probably didn't need any justification for holding or granting political power (because, you know, day and night). So it seems quite plausible to me that if you asked an Equestrian whether a given country was sovereign you would get funny looks because they would think it a category error; of course all other countries are ultimately subordinate to Celestia and Luna as Day and Night, respectively, and if Equestria chooses to respect their local laws and customs and not invade their territory and so on that's just a matter of convenience and politeness. I wouldn't be surprised if ambassadors to Equestria had to perform some token ritual of submission, like ambassadors to the Emperor of China once did, or if Equestria considers all other countries to be subordinate to it in some loose sense, again much like the ancient Chinese empires did.
In other words, to bring this back around to the actual story, I could see Twilight just looking blankly at Mtendaji when she points out that the consulate is Wilayan territory and being confused by the whole discussion of sovereignty and how the zebras can't do anything about Mtendaji because she's claiming diplomatic immunity. Wilaya is prima facie subordinate to Equestria by virtue of existing, but Twilight has been respecting their rules and customs for the sake of politeness and convenience. Since Mtendaji tried to murder her (and her friend), however, there's no reason for her to be polite anymore, so there's no reason for her to respect Wilayan claims to territory or diplomatic immunity. This could then lead to some exciting discussions with the zebras for more or less the same reason that this whole Mtendaji plot happened; everyone thinks that Equestria wants to do x because it seems to be able to/have a self-justification for doing x, when, no, Twilight really does just want to make friends.
(I could go on a rant about the whole concept's utility or lack thereof in the modern world, but I already seem to have written an essay about the history, so...)
Politics
Well, this skirmish just escalated to the next level.
7621881 ...That's actually very interesting and informative but I need to point out that the Gryphon Kingdom and Crystal Empire are part of Equestria, both regions are participants in the Equestria Games and both send Delegates to the Grand Equestria Pony Summit.
7621881
7622397
It's also not accurate. Rainbow Dash and Pinkie Pie were perfectly willing to go to Griffonstone's king and talk to him. Griffonstone simply didn't have a king anymore, or any form of ruling body for that matter. Pinkie and Rainbow still went along with all the laws that were in place (no singing, for example).
The real problem they would've faced had they retrieved the Idol of Boreas would've been the lack of someone to give it to.
7621561
I would guess not. Some of the things Mtendaji said implied she wasn't saying the truth, or at least the whole truth. It's possible Applejack picked up on that.
In fact, it's possible Okubi didn't call her an imbecile for the attempt on Twilight's life, but rather for getting caught.
7622397
My point was that thinking of the Gryphon Kingdom and the Crystal Empire as being "part of" Equestria doesn't necessarily make sense to the Equestrians, in the way that we use those terms. Thinking outside sovereignty can be a bit mind-bending (and difficult), but here, for instance, it raises the question of why you should assume the inhabitants of a particular region can participate in the Equestria Games, or why only cities from that region can send delegates to the Grand Equestria Pony Summit. After all, there are certainly benefits for Canterlot if governments not effectively subordinate to it participate.
Also, I never mentioned the Crystal Empire, specifically because it does seem to be "part of" Equestria in the modern sense.
7622607
Anarchy is still a regime, and the imposition of an actual government still a regime change. Now, granted, their plan to effect that change was not the most brilliant one, but it was still an attempt to impose a new government from the outside, in place of the existing state (of anarchy). The fact that they followed what laws and customs were in place can be explained by the fact that doing so is most convenient if you intend to peacefully effect regime change. It's harder to rally the population no matter the power of your symbols (or ideals) if you trample all over the laws doing so, at least the wrong laws. In the end they did, after all, create the nucleus of a new regime by converting Gilda to the Way of Friendship. That would have been harder if they had been flagrantly breaking the law.
7623062
Here's the thing though: Pinkie and Rainbow had no intention of changing the regime they would find, one way or another. They intended to lift the Griffons' spirits and morale, not form a new government. So, claiming they were going for regime change when that wasn't part of their agenda at any point is simply not true. It's a false accusation.
7623133
You're kind of misremembering (I'm looking at the transcript here). So, what happens is that it starts off as a typical map episode, with Rainbow and Pinkie being summoned to solve some kind of friendship problem. Twilight bangs on about griffons, then they head off. Almost the first thing that happens in Griffonstone is that they're told that they don't have a king anymore (i.e., they're an anarchy) by Gilda, whereupon they hear the whole history from Grampa Gruff. Afterwards, Rainbow (thinks she) figures out the map's message as being one of bringing the Idol back to reunite the griffon people (and presumably end the anarchy), while Pinkie decides to go to the library and then putters around with Gilda for a while before (finally) suggesting that friendship could be a replacement for the Idol to Gilda and pushing her into befriending Greta after rescuing Rainbow.
Obviously Rainbow and Pinkie don't go in with the intention of effecting regime change, but they decide to start lifting griffon spirits and morale after they learn that the griffon government has collapsed, with the implication that they want new griffon kings, and most certainly with the intention of altering internal griffon politics (which was, after all, the point of me bringing up the episode in the first place; they don't hesitate for a second before meddling in Griffonstone's politics, as if it was no different from meddling in Ponyville's politics). Pinkie explicitly says that she thinks friendship could allow a "mightier Kingdom" later on the episode, when urging Gilda to give it a shot, which is probably about as explicit a call for regime change you could possibly see on the show. And by the end they've trained a domestic agent to form a revolutionary front based on friendship...
(Okay, that last one was intentionally exaggerated, but still, the whole point of getting Gilda to give friendship a chance was to effect substantial changes in griffon society)
7623263
The "internal politics" was being happier and being nicer to each other. Friendship. That's not regime change. That's meddling in internal socio-economical issues at the very worst.
I feel like we're mirroring the whole debate about what Twilight is doing in Gonswana, actually. The abadas couldn't see Twilight Sparkle's visit in any other light than business and politics.
I have added a word that is not currently there.
And here.
...
Seriously. Seriously. It really did come down to that.
Culture dissonance, ladies and gentlemen. Culture. Dissonance.
I'm not sure the abada have a proper understanding of scientific fervor. Bet you five bucks that as soon as Luna was considered fit to appear in court, scientists were petitioning for lunar expeditions just because they could. By comparison, Livingstone just popped out across the street.
Somewhere back in Equestria, Cheese Sandwich shuddered, his Cheesy Sense telling him that someone was plagiarizing the lyrics to one of his songs.
Mtendaji is a complete moron and as greedy as a dragon guarding his hoard.
off