In the Pale Moonlight – Part Two

‘The Changing Face of Evil’

Authors:
Redskin122004
Sledge115
VoxAdam
Jed R

Editors:
Kizuna Tallis
DoctorFluffy
Dustchu
Dances With Unicorns

- - - - -

“I need to talk about this. I have to justify what's happened... what I've done... at least to myself.”
– Benjamin Sisko, Star Trek: Deep Space Nine: ‘In The Pale Moonlight’

“They expected the war to be over long ago. It's not. For that, they blame us. Now, if the war isn't ended soon, they'll shift the blame to you.“
– Damar, Star Trek: Deep Space Nine: ‘The Changing Face of Evil’

- - - - -

DAY ONE. NOON.

Marcus had just finished typing up a message to be dispatched back to Earth when there came a knock at his door.

A moment later, two men entered. One was a young man in a green tweed coat, whom Marcus had only met once. The other was taller, leaner and older, with a slightly condescending expression, sharp features, and thinning hair, dressed impeccably and carrying an umbrella.

“Colonel Renee,” the man said, his voice the very air of refined politeness. “A pleasure.”

Marcus frowned. He knew who this was. The rumors were legendary, but he was one of the few who actually knew the truth. The mere thought of renewed collaboration with this particular Englishman made him feel… uneasy. Three years on, and out of all the characters he’d met who composed the Royal Family’s hanger-ons and advisers, he liked this one the least. Not because he’d shown hints of a treacherous heart, or behaved like a sycophantic weasel. Marcus could have dealt with people like that.

“The famed ‘Umbrella Man’,” he said, leaning back in his chair. “To what do I owe the pleasure, Mister H–”

“Please, Colonel, spare me the pleasantries,” the man said, his expression stern. “You sent an urgent request for a political aid to assist with a delicate matter. Here I am.”

“Ah,” the man in the tweed coat said. “My bad. Missed by a small margin. Don’t worry... it almost never happens to me anymore…”

Marcus frowned at him. “Bowman. I should’ve guessed you’d still be hanging around.”

The young man shrugged. “It’s what I do, Colonel. Someone has to be around to puncture military pomposity, and I’m the expert.”

“Wait,” Marcus said, frowning at the Doctor. “You brought him here? He didn’t come via Doctor Whooves?”

“I would have thought that was obvious,” Bowman said, folding his arms. “Why else would I be here, instead of my illustrious counterpart?”

“The Doctor owes me a few favours,” the Umbrella Man put in with a slight smile.

“We have a goddamn procedure,” Marcus said. “You should have acquired a pass, come through official channels-”

“Colonel,” the Umbrella Man said, his smile remaining constant. “I am certain, given the content of your report, that we have more urgent issues than paperwork I can easily acquire ex-post-facto.”

Marcus growled. He didn’t like official channels being circumvented, or at least, being circumvented without his sayso.

“In any case,” the Umbrella Man said. “The request you’re… about to send…” he picked up the iPad and read it over. “Requested someone to come and assist with a rather large piece of potentially problematic political posturing.” He paused, frowned, re-read the note, before correcting something. “You seem to need to work on your grammar. I’d watch your tenses.”

Marcus raised an eyebrow, then took back the iPad and sent the report. Thanks to a bit of transdimensional wizardry from Doctor Whooves himself, the report would be relayed to Cheerilee in real time. He didn’t know how it worked, but it was pretty damn useful.

“You’ll forgive me, sir,” he said, laying down the tablet, to the Umbrella Man, his tone tinged with sarcasm, “but I requested a political aid. Isn’t this a bit below your level?”

“On the contrary, Colonel,” the Umbrella Man said with a smile. “This sort of political wrangling is precisely my level. I am, regrettably, very aware of the potential disastrous consequences of these kinds of incidents. I’ve spent most of my career either preventing them or fixing them. Given the tenuous nature of the situation detailed in the report you’ve just sent, believe me when I say, you do not want some low-ranking individual who’s hardest task thus far has been arranging a filing cabinet. You want me.”

Marcus nodded slowly. “I won’t lie and say I won’t appreciate having someone with your experience with us for this. I’ll also admit that your timing is fortuitous. Getting here early will allow you to more thoroughly understand the complexities of the situation.”

“Indeed,” the Umbrella Man said with a nod. “I’m pleased to see you grasp the situation is complex enough to warrant that. Fortunately, I should be intimately familiar by tomorrow’s meeting. Likely I will have options available as well. Are we decided on a course of action?”

“No, not yet,” Marcus said softly. “In part, that’s what the meeting will determine.”

“Indeed,” the Umbrella Man said, with a hint of what might have been excitement in his eyes, belying his calm expression. “A high stakes game, then. Excellent.”

“I’m so pleased that the imminent implosion of the Alliance is so amusing for you.”

“I find so few challenges these days,” the Umbrella Man said with a smirk. “Believe me, Colonel, I treat this with all the seriousness it deserves. That does not mean I cannot enjoy it.” He inclined his head slightly. “Until the meeting, Colonel.”

“Oh, nothing,” Bowman replied with a grin. “Have you had work done? You’re a little… glowier than you used to be.”

“If you don’t have anything important to discuss with me, you can go,” he said to the Doctor. “Go piss around with your Reaver friends or something.”

“Sir, yes sir,” Bowman replied with a smirk and a mocking little salute. “Have fun, Colonel.”

- - - - -

Everything had seemed to be going well. The Bearers had been running their laps, though a faint pall seemed to hang over those there who’d gone to Ponyville, and Pinkie was making her way through the obstacle course without just… appearing. Which was nice, seeing as she was taking this seriously. She’d also been talking about making a Party Rocket Launcher. Which was worrying. But not as worrying as what she’d said next.

“There’s a human who said he wants to see me after training!,” she exclaimed. “Said he was curious about the real me–” (At this point, she made air quotes with her hooves.) “–and wanted to know what I was really like!”

It would have been perfectly fine if not for what she said next. “He’s tall, and lanky, and has a beard and the weirdest accent! I bet he’s disguising himself or something!”

“Scheiße. Look, can you just… tell him this might have to wait? I’m going to have to ask this man to leave.”

“But he’s here,” Pinkie said, confused. “I told him he could wait over there, behind that tree.”

As if on cue, a man - tall and lanky with a beard - popped his head out from behind a tree.

“Uh, hi Major,” he said, his accent ‘weird’ (or more specifically Afrikaner with the very occasional lapse into apalling Scottish). “How are you?”

"... A while,” Kraber said, stroking his thick beard awkwardly. He was wearing jeans and an old, yellow Kill La Kill shirt.

“How…. I don’t.... You… the fucking… what…” Stephan stuttered. Words had failed him. “Alright. Who did you threaten to get here. Did you use that blackmail material? Sneak onto the TARDIS? Use a disguise?”

“Ach, we both know I’m terrible with disguises,” Kraber said, scraping at the earth with the tip of his shoe.

“Stabsunteroffizier Kraber,” Stephan said, shaking. “What are you not telling me?”

“Stabby what now?” Pinkie Pie asked. “He said his name was Viktor! With a K!”

“Yes, he is very... ‘stabby,’” Stephan said. “Did you. Did you seriously ask to… You’re the worst person that could possibly come here!”

“Well, about that,” Kraber said. “Cheerilee told me I’d have to graft with Pinkie Pie, and I told her that it was for the best if Aegis and I got to know her sooner rather than later and don’t fok it up. She said it was a lekker idea, so… here I am.”

Stephan stared at him for a moment. He wasn’t sure what was more disturbing. The fact that Kraber was here of all places, or that he’d made such a good point.

“Where’s Aegis?” Stephan asked, finally. “Isn’t he supposed to keep an eye on you?”

Pinkie looked up at the two of them. “What’s going on? What happened? Why don’t you want him here?”

“Well..” Stephan said, regretting everything. “Your counterpart did…. something to his family. We were afraid of letting this man come, because we thought it might trigger him.”

“Look,” Kraber interrupted. “I know you’re not the same pony. And I liked talking to…. At least, a Pinkie Pie before…” his voice trailed off. “Whatever. If I’m going to graft with you–”

“What does that mean? Also where’s your accent from? I’ve never heard anything like it!”

“Then I need to know what the real Pinkie is like,” Kraber finished. “Also, South Africa. From Earth.”

“Darling,” Rarity said in concern, “I… don’t believe you should go with this man alone.”

“Good idea! I was planning to watch Kill La Kill again, and I think you’d like it!” Pinkie said, bouncing on the lawn.

“I will permit it...” Stephan said. “But. Only when Aegis comes back from whatever he’s doing.”

“This is all going to end in tears,” Stephan grumbled. “I just know it.”

- - - - -

The afternoon sun was just past its highest point, as the last tolls of the Cloister Bell faded off into the ether. Ana was first to hop off, waving a quick thanks at the younger of the two Whooves sisters for holding the door open, the eldest smartly trotting in her traces.

“Thanks for the ride, Dinky!” she said cheerfully. “Sure you’re not coming with us?”

“Nah, someone’s gotta guard Dad’s TARDIS, you go have fun with Sparkler! Especially with those fireworks you got!” the little unicorn exclaimed brightly. “Say hi to Dad for me, sis!”

“I will,” Sparkler replied fondly, waving a last goodbye before the doors swung shut and the TARDIS machine lay inert in the overgrown courtyard. “So, here we are,” she told Ana, beaming with pride. “The Castle of the Two Sisters, bastion of Everfree, seat of the alicorns!” She hopped over to a nearby sign, which looked new and untainted. It read, simply enough, ‘KEEP OUT - BY ORDER OF THE CROWN’.“And now, one of our brand new R&D sites. The guys are going nuts at the residue all over this place.”

The castle was indeed magnificent, Ana thought, pretty much as Sparkler had described. Adorned by the great statues of dragons and other, less familiar creatures of bygone-times, even in this mythical land she’d heard so much about but only entered a few weeks ago, the place exuded mystique and an aura of grandeur.

“So,” Ana began, holding back a snicker. “What, um, made you guys move to an old castle? The place looks… grand, yeah. But old, too. Reaaallly old.”

She gestured towards the visible scaffolding, aling with the few PHL-uniformed engineers and foremen working on the Castle’s exterior.

“Watch your tongue, little duchess!” Sparkler retorted in mock offense, dramatically holding a hoof over heart. “You’re treading on hallowed grounds here, I’ll have you know!”

“Okay! Okay, you got me,” Ana said with a laugh, as Sparkler beckoned her to join her walk. “But who’re we supposed to meet, again?”

By way of reply, Sparkler led her toward an exposed staircase, and up, but said no more, merely smiling mysteriously. As it turned out, the staircase opened onto a throne room of sorts. A line of alcoves for recessed doors lined the left and right sides of the room. On the far end of was a set of stairs leading to the dais of two thrones, one darkest blue, the other bright yellow. And the right alcove nearest to the dais was sectioned off from the rest of the alcoves by a black-and-yellow cordon...

Ana stopped in her tracks, clutching her satchel of fireworks. “Wait, Miss Do? As in, the Daring Do?”

“Miss Bjorgman,” Sparkler said patiently. “You’re talking to a unicorn in the oldest castle of a magical land… and here I am, talking to you, a human being, with hands and all.”

“Miss Star!” called out a new voice, rough and ready, yet undeniably feminine. “Took you long enough to come here. Got lost or something?”

As if on cue, a light-gold pegasus swooped down from a scaffolding, right in front of the pair. Brushing away a strand of grey mane, the mare adjusted her pith helmet, as she took in the peculiar pair standing before her.

‘Like something out of Indiana Jones…’ thought Ana. ‘Well, that is something!’

“Afternoon, Miss Do,” Sparkler greeted. “Hope I’m not too late for the fun. Everything all set?”

“Set and ready to go, Miss Star! We’ve just cleared out the last of the dungeons down there... Care to take a look over?” Daring Do concluded nonchalantly.

“Oh, now that’s just great!” Sparkler exclaimed happily. “Can’t wait to get started on some of the stuff here. Dad’s been teasing me all week about them. Come on, let’s g–”

“Hold up, Amethyst,” Daring said sternly, gesturing towards Ana. “Who’s the girl?”

Before Ana could so much as retort, Sparkler quickly moved in front of her. “A friend! Ana, Daring Do, Daring Do, Ana,” she said, gesturing rapidly. “She’s here to, uh, guard, me?”

“Uh-huh,” Daring began, sounding a little reluctant. “As if you need a little guard by your side?” She held out her forehoof for Ana. “Daring Do, Ma'am. Always an honor to meet another one of your kind.”

Despite the middle-aged pegasus’ grizzled mannerisms, Ana couldn’t help but get the distinct impression that, on the inside, this famous adventurer’s heart was bouncing with all the giddiness from talking to a human face-to-face as when she herself had first seen a live reindeer of Equus.

‘Heh, when you think about it Ana… that’s not too far from the truth.’

“Honor’s all mine!” Ana replied cheerfully, answering the outheld hoof with her hand. She had to hold back a grin at inquisitive look Daring gave her fingers.

“Hm,” commented the adventurer. “Most exotic a limb, miss. Not as sharp as a dragon’s claws, nor as rough-hewn or stoney as a minotaur’s hands. Your accent does sound close to the reindeer of the Frozen North, much as the griffons and minotaurs’ own tongues oddly resemble those of other human people I’ve come across. What say you to that?”

“Well, I come from Norway, Ma'am. A pleasant little country to the North, back on Earth,” Ana corrected her, with a touch of sad remembrance. “But lots of places have a North!”

“And no matter what the Tyrant may have done there,” Ana continued, “she won’t take away our forests and our mountains, nor will she ever do away with the Northern Lights.”

“Well,” Daring replied, chuckling. “Aren’t you a bucketful of sunshine! Dunno where you picked her up from, Miss Star, but well, nice to have someone new. Come on right in, hun,” she said, moving back to sweepingly present the two old thrones. “The more the merrier.”

“So, Miss Do,” Sparkler said politely, trotting forward with Ana in tow. “We realize that you consider yourself a mare of her own secrets to keep, hence why it took you so long to step out from the shadows…”

“And even now,” Daring interrupted her, rather gruffly, “Our understanding was that I’d like to enjoy a measure of privacy, Miss Star. But, pleasantries aside, what did you wish to ask?”

“Well, before anything else,” the Doctor’s eldest daughter said, “I’d hoped you’d give a rundown of your exploits. Not all present company’s had the time to read every last one of your books.”

The gruff mare’s mouth crinkled into a grin. Plainly, she enjoyed getting these questions. “Basically, a couple errands here and there, the usual lost artifacts. Only sometimes, I get a few odd requests… like this castle. After waiting years for an official permit, I just happened to be in the neighborhood, chasing Caballeron’s gang, and now you guys,” she gestured to Ana, who was listening intently. “gave me the perfect pass. There’s so much history in these walls, you know? All the stories we can uncover… it’s amazing.”

From close to the floor beside her, Ana thought she heard her friend withhold a knowing smirk. “Glad to hear you so impressed!” Sparkler said grandly. “Anything else the office gave you permission for?” Unusually, Daring Do looked hesitant, apprehensive even, but Sparkler pushed on. “C’mon, you met my Dad already, won’t say a word,” she said. “In fact, I might let you in on some info about his funny little machine.”

Her vest ruffled a bit as she strained not to break free from it in a familiar old gesture, and so she settled for a hoof pointing back at the courtyard she and Ana had just come up from. Daring was all too willing to visit a working TARDIS, if the desire emanating from her was a clue to go by. She let out a sigh, more of resignation and bemusement than annoyance.

- - - - -

“We’ll be working at this for weeks,” Daring said on their way back down the staircase, indicating the various ponies on scaffoldings, toiling away to improve the castle’s derelict walls. A few gave her nods and such, but most went on with their delicate work. “Place needs a dust. It was close to collapsing, all things considered.”

“And… the artifacts?” Sparkler said carefully, as they stopped near the library.

Said library seemed to be in good shape. Ana would have gladly sat down inside with a book were it not for the yellow tape barring her entry.

“Still here, the whole lot of them,” Daring replied happily. “I could go on forever, but, let’s start with a few curious trinkets, shall we?” She gestured towards a nearby book, dusted off by a weathered-looking unicorn. “We’re still not too sure about what that is,” she recited. “But, your father supposed there’s a few old ‘tricks’ it’s got. Till he says ‘yes’, nobody’ll use it.”

“He was,” Daring said, by way of apology, “but then he had to go. Something about needing to go talk to himself.”

“‘Needing to go talk to himself’?” Sparkler repeated, frowning. Yet Ana thought this wasn’t the frown of someone who didn’t understand, but who understood too well.

Daring shrugged. “No idea what he meant by it, who knows with that stallion.”

“So, uh, Miss Do?” Ana began tentatively, trying to get Sparkler’s troubled mind off her father. “I don’t suppose there’re any others you can tell?”

“Absolutely,” Daring told them both. “The stuff I’ve seen really puts what I’ve been gathering back in my day to shame,” she elaborated, as they walked through the main halls. “Like that black book, whatever it’s at. Honestly a bit scary, how all these artifacts were just lying around in wait. Mind you, one which I’d thought to find here, ain’t. This amulet said to charge up any unicorn who wielded it. Last I heard, rumor was some shop owner up in Neighpon had the thing on display, but my grapevine tells me it’s gone missing… slightly mysteriously. All I can tell you is, in all honesty, I’d nothing to do with that particular spiriting away.”

Daring stopped in her tracks. “Did you now?” she said, turning to Sparkler, eyes aglow with a lean, almost unnerving curiosity. “Some fine sense of civic duty you’ve got there, little Miss.”

And there was a look on her face Ana had never seen before, a fierceness of sorts which had nothing to do with the heat of battle, which suggested a far older hurt buried so deep, even a bold adventurer like the one opposite her would brave more they could know in seeking it out.

“Not before time, too,” pursued Sparkler, each word carefully emphasized. “Please don’t ask me the specifics of how, Miss Do, but thanks to a key asset of our grapevine, we managed to get ahead of an imminent perpetrator, who planned on putting the artifact to ill use.”

Sparkler shifted with deep discomfort. By the looks of it, the phrase ‘she didn’t know whether to laugh or cry’ had seldom seemed more befitting anyone Ana had seen before, gazing at her.

“Well…” the young mare began. “Unfortunately, circumstances took an unforeseen turn, and the thwarted perpetrator grew somewhat desperate in trying to get what she wanted…”

- - - - -

In a vain effort to stave off boredom, Locksmith had posed the question gruffly, his calloused torso rubbing against cold metal as he stood up, forehooves gripping the iron bars. Thank goodness for the small mercies, though. With all its charming naiveté and simpleness, this country still let a guy gaze upon a pretty face when in the clink, even if from a safe distance.

“What’s it to you?” the baby-blue mare snorted, crossing her own forehooves.

Her retort carried across the space separating her cell from his, yet she kept her voice just low enough to avoid drawing attention from any guards patrolling up and down the corridor, far-off echoes of heavy steps upon stone a sufficient reminder as to where he and she were stuck.

Plus, he’d spotted how she sat at a right angle from him, so her face wouldn’t show as much.

“Surely yer in ‘ere fer sumfink,” Locksmith said wryly, aware of how his grin must shine in the orange-red flicker of the low-ceilinged hallways’ torches. “Or am I to understand dear, loving Equestria’s justice system’s let yer down?”

Huffily, the mare tossed back a flowing tuft of mane from her eyes, and made a darling performance of slouching on her bed. Alas, whatever grand effect she aimed for, it was spoiled by the fact hers was a bed of straw, deep in the dungeons of Canterlot Royal Palace.

“Surely you must know, ruffian,” she announced pompously, “that one with might such as the one you see before you, would only choose such a locale for an abode at her own whim! Locks and chains are as immaterial to her as a silk curtain, and she can leave as she pleases.”

Locksmith’s ears perked up. “Oho, really? Pray tell me more, Miss,” he said. The lass was plainly a poser, but she had spunk, he’d give her that. Fine pair of flanks, too. “Most funny you should mention locks. They happen to be my… personal domain. ”

Aye, though she valiantly sought to hide it, a quick flash in her eyes betrayed desperation. Those like her wouldn’t brag without some skill to back their claim, yet if she could jailbreak, she’d have done so by now. However, he saw she had the smarts to look out for the big prize.

“I bet a mare of yer talents may not really need it,” Locksmith said smoothly. “But it must get most tiresome, to carry out yer tricks solo, whatever they may be. If yer need an assistant, look no further. Just tell me yer speciality, please.”

She peered at him from behind bars, one forehoof absently tracing circles around the cusp of her state-provided pitcher.

“I’m an illusionist,” the baby-blue mare replied at last. “The very best, accomplished in casting smokes n’ mirrors for the delight of little colts and fillies everywhere. Or I used to be.”

This sounded promising. “Thanks. And yer offense? Oh, come now,” he chuckled, spotting the indignant look on her face. “Trust is trust, aye? There’s the mortar of good business partners. Ya tell me yers, I tell ya mine.”

At least, he told himself, those he could spin romantically. She, hesitantly, the back of her head pressed to the mildewy stone wall, nervously rubbing a scraped leg, spilled the beans.

“‘Breaking and entering’,” the mare said in a small, croaky voice. “‘Violence against private property and commercial goods of a respectable Neighponese citizen’, and ‘attempted theft of national treasure’, is what they’re calling it…”

Locksmith struggled to conceal his surprise. Maybe this doll was far more than she seemed.

“Well, it could take a fair long while…” he acknowledged, reluctant to raise her hopes before he’d ascertained her capacity. “But should ya make a good pitch, soon’s as I’m out and back in me ole duds, I’ll be sure to send ya my business card…”

- - - - -

“Anyway,” said Sparkler. “That’s by the by. Now, let’s get down to business. My friend Miss Bjorgman here has something special she’d like to show you.”

Recognising her cue, Ana reached into her satchel for the fireworks, beaming all the while.

“Not just any fireworks, ma’am.” Ana said, smiling positively with joy. As if following her words, the firework she held on her hand flared to life and launched itself, bursting brilliantly in a shower of colour above the carpeted floor.

“Flameless fireworks, that is,” Ana finished, bowing to the visibly awed Daring. She dropped the little firework into Daring’s expecting hooves, and sure enough, the adventurer rapidly gave it a look-over.

“Fascinating little trinket you got there,” she said as she fumbled with the fuse-less firework. “How’d you make it?”

“Trade secret,” Ana said with a wink. “But, technically I got the recipe from the good Doc, and he got it from… who was it again?”

‘You’re a dirty tease, Ana, stop it,’ the voice in her head chided her lightly.

“I can respect that well enough,” Daring nodded. “But if it’s not too much to ask…”
“Oh, you want another demonstration?” Ana asked.

Under normal circumstances, activating one of these was easy. After al, she had just pulled off the trick. Problem was, now she consciously trying to be positive, her mind drifted away from happy thoughts, to blood, crying…

‘Is that some wonderful British understatement you’ve picked up from a certain someone?’

Ana grimaced, concentrating, trying to bring her emotions to focus, trying to think of something. A moment passed. Nothing.

“Performance issues?” Sparkler asked, understanding. “It’s okay, Ana. We all saw the same light show just now.”

Gripping her firework, Ana snorted, feeling her knuckles go white. “Well, it’s been a… difficult few days.”

“Maybe next time you get the chance, you should go hiking,” Sparkler suggested. “There’s some lovely grassy hills around these parts, really good for walking around. Maybe take Harwood with you?”

That would be nice. Going for a walk, lying on grass, talking about nothing in particular…

Something sparked. Ana Bjorgman came out of her thoughts, looking down at the flameless firework in her hand… which had ignited.

“Oh,” she managed, before it shot out, bounced off a wall and whizzed into the air, narrowly missing a tapestry. “Oh, no, no-no-no!” Ana yelped, scrambling to retrieve the stray firework. “Not good!”

Ignoring both Sparkler and Daring’s nonplussed reactions, Ana darted, her hand reaching out to grab the firework, evading, dodging the scaffolding laid down around the place. She stretched her arm far, but just as it looked like her fingers were about to close around the thing, Ana almost tripped over the broken base of a stone pillar.

“Ana!” Sparkler cried after her. “Ana, get back here! It’s not worth it!”

“Yes, it is!” Ana shouted back, dusting off her vest, looking none the worse. “After all the trouble it was getting them to work, d’you think those things grow on trees? I can shut it down, I guarantee it!”

The firework zipped through the doorway, and flew through the air, across the grounds, past a few very startled ponies. Fortunately, it didn’t collide with any of them, nor the scaffolding. It was quick, zipping from corner to corner, spiralling high and low in the air.

“Gotcha!” she shouted, clutching the fireworks in her fingers... extinguishing it at a touch. She looked at Sparkler and Daring, who were hot on her trail with barely restrained glee. “Told you I’d get it, hah!”

In her hurry, Ana hadn’t realized how far away from the courtyard, let alone the castle proper, the blasted firework had led her. Her foot overstepped the edge, and down she went, tumbling into the nearby gorge, out of sight.

- - - - -

In a rare moment of grace, Ana somehow found the balance to hopp from rocky to rocky outcrop as momentum carried her further and further towards the bottom.

With a final leap, Ana stood her ground, sticking the landing. Dusting off her clothes, she looked up proudly – and found the gorge to be no taller than a two-story building. In fact, it wasn’t all that steep, for the centuries had eroded this side of the gorge into nothing more than an extended slope. Too steep to climb back easily, but soft and smooth enough that she’d been left with no more than a few small cuts and bruises on her face.Nothing Harwood couldn’t easily deal with, she thought, before the saddening realization hit her that she and the English medic were technically no longer comrades-in-arms.

“Ana!” Sparkler yelled down. “How’d you land? Any bones broken? Listen, I can see you from up here, just please gimme a sign!”

Smiling with relief, Ana signaled to the mares, two dark outlines shaded by the bright blue sky behind them as they stood at the edge of the scree, with a thumbs-up.

“All good!” she called up. “Nothing serious, I’m just winded, is all!”

Daring was next to shout. “There should be some passage back to the Castle, if I know alicorns and their love for fancy traps. I’d get down there to help ya myself, but well, sorry to say so, hun, you’re more than even Miss Do can carry in her backpack!”

“That’s alright, I’ll be safe enough right down here, you guys,” she replied reassuringly. “Just… please don’t go anywhere outside the Castle?”

“Hah!” Sparkler said. “The way this Castle’s designed, and knowing you, we’ve a better chance of running into you than we have with a full team searching the gorge!”

“Cheeky bugger,” Ana said below her breath, with a touch of fondness of both Sparkler, and Harwood, who loved to use the expression...

The accursed little firework she held on her right hand spontaneously re-ignited, forcing her to let the little bugger go. Ana set off once more in a chase, ignoring the annoyed cries of Sparkler from up there.

This time around, the pattern of the firework was a bitpeculiar, with Ana struggling to follow its twists and turns around the tangled roots jutting out from the gorge.

‘You hold on in there, dearest,’ the voice said pressingly, but Ana failed to heed it, as she rounded a corner, into a nearby cave....

And stopped. There it stood, a twisting, jagged shard, growing out from the cavern ground.

But in spite of its shape, its irregularities, Ana felt no greater sensation than awe upon taking in the sight of the curious-looking tree. The majestic crystalline bark, the hanging crystals, and the ethereal glow it seemed to emit from every crack and surface only added to its beauty and resplendent intrigue, where even the very ground glowed in a hallowed light.

Ana stepped closer, closer, wondering why the spirit within did not spoke as she usually did. Perhaps she was too awed for words.

It glowed dimmer, then brighter, rinse, repeat. Ana looked around the cave, hoping to find the cause, or source of the activity.

It wasn’t the doe that spoke this time, no. It was something else. Something equally old, and yet, so different.

Upon hearing the ancient, ethereal voice again, Ana glanced towards the decrepit old tree. Again, it pulsed.

Slowly, Ana stood up, dusting off here and there. She heard the sound of hoof on dirt, and Sparkler whispering out her name, but Ana pressed on.

Everything felt blurry, and cloudy, as she walked the small distance between her and the tree The Tree pulsed and shon. Whatever it did, Ana felt… compelled to touch upon. She walked towards it, ignoring the growing shouts and warnings from around her.

But Sparkler’s words felt distant, hollow even. Ana’s pace hastened, and her fingers reached out to touch the ancient crystalline bark of the tree.

- - - - -

So. I’d written up a message, asking for a political analyst or assistant. I figured, I don't have a head for this politics bullshit, and I’ve never had one. I was, if I’m being honest, hoping for some young, clever, and idealistic person, someone who’d spin what happened into something more positive.

- - - - -

DAY ONE. AFTERNOON.

With the agreement of the European Council, an investigation of the Everfree Forest incident, and the circumstances surrounding the assault of Agent Lulamoon against multiple members of the PHL and civilians of Sunny Equestria will begin forthwith. Princess Luna, who already took part in her government’s observation of the involved group, will lead the investigation, together with the help of officers commissioned by NATO, the EU and the PHL, including M.H, special attaché of the British Government, who has been recommended by King William V and the Provisional Falklands Parliament.

Seated restlessly upon his chair, silently cursing the Equestrians’ hang-ups about leather and leather seating, Marcus let his eyes wander over the electronic message, shining back at him from Stephan’s iPad. He resisted the overwhelming urge to rub his forehead, thankful his healing magic had allowed a return to work in the first place.

“I requested a political aide for assistance,” Marcus said. “He assigned himself. Man’s got pull. Not hard to believe he managed to secure himself a pass.”

“That verdammter Bowman brought him before you’d even sent the message,” Stephan pointed out. “You could have just not sent it.”

“If only,” Marcus said with a rueful smile. “Don’t think that’s how it works. Besides, he is good at his job.”

“Good at his job isn’t the problem,” Stephan said. He shook his head. “I don’t like him, Marcus.”

Stephan sighed. “How could you let him get involved so deeply with your organisation?”

“Not my idea. He was there before me, and donated early funding. If anything, you can say he let me in,” Marcus admitted unhappily. “Those were early days, my friend. None but little Lyra Heartstrings, an ambassador with no actual pull in Equestria’s parliament and a gaggle of like-minded dissenters, looking for a human power to back them up. And with the dear old US of A hesitating to get its thumb out, talking tough about refusal to negotiate, thanks to the fucking hardliners like Goleman having sway in those times, who else could she turn to, but those who personally knew and trusted her?” He sighed. “If it matters to you, well, nobody likes him. He’s indispensable, not likable. Even his brother’s more personable, which isn’t saying much.”

“Doesn’t matter now, anyway,” Marcus said softly. “What matters is what we’re going to do about the fiasco we’ve been left with.”

“Right, right… going to have to figure that one out,” Stephan muttered. “We’ve dealt with worse, haven’t we?”

Marcus groaned. “Those were people used to things going wrong every other week. This Equestria had nothing to do with us for the last month or so, and they’re easier to spook than the h–”

“You were going to say horses from back home, weren’t you?” Stephan asked, suppressing a snigger. The irony had never been lost on anyone.

“No, no, no…” Marcus protested, and then abruptly gave up. “Yes. The worst part is, I understand it. Cos’ we lived this.”

“We had aliens we didn’t understand come in, ingratiate themselves with the world’s leaders, and upend everyday life,” Marcus explained. “Didn’t seem right to a lot of people, and it was too easy, the way they got in. Too easy how they just seemed to do so well.”

“It’s how some of the former HLF in our ranks thought,” Marcus continued. “Photo Finish said as much. I just…” he sighed. “I don’t want to go through that again. And here comes this… incident…”

“Maybe we can fix it with Operation Gator-Clip,” Stephan said with some hope. “All these Equestrians loved the Exhibition. I’m sure they’ll like the live performances, too.”

“Someone with a huge sense of irony and an even weirder sense of humor,” Stephan said.

Operation Gator-Clip, an odd, yet rather imaginative name for an important endeavor. The Whooves clan had been very busy for this, as one would be, picking up and dropping off thousands of humans to Equestria for save haven, as allowed by the Princesses. It helped that New New York was already in place to carry the load of so many people.

The main focus was to bring in Earth’s most brilliant minds – engineers, doctors, scientists, think tanks, and whatever else their world had to offer – and give them an area to simply work in peace, without the stresses of war impeding their work. Not only would it help to preserve humanity, but it would give this new world in the opportunity to advance their technology and provide them with a fighting chance in case worse came to worst.

As a few human musicians who worked in the Exhibition had noticed the gusto with which ponies took to their work, the plans were now being outlined for more and more to followed, once news of the second Equestria came out to the public. After all, this was a fairly safe area, untouched by the war. Logically, it would be ideal area for what many had dubbed could be “the one last ride”. Performers, entertainers, and artists who hadn’t been able to do their life’s work for years, along with their families, to be taken into and set up with living arrangements in New New York.

“Trixie would have liked it, you know,” Stephan said, interrupting Marcus’ thoughts. “Always loved a spectacle, that mare.”

“I will be there,” Stephan said assuredly. “Just… need to talk to someone first.”

“Yeah,” Stephan said, his expression turning sour. “I need to talk to someone I don't like about someone else I don't like.” He sighed. “Gott in himmel, why can't this shit be any easier.”

“Welcome to my world,” Marcus said wryly. “Hope you like the wallpaper.”

- - - - -

Pineapple Cutter never had much use for such establishments, and even less now that, thanks to her blade-prosthesis, the war had reduced her chances of getting a nice hooficure by circa twenty-five percent. Still, the Changeling Queen had insisted on attending this locale, flanked by a pair of her drones, both of whom were fussing about their monarch with such devotion Pina felt her cold spirits rise.

“I hoped to discuss in private, yes,” she told the Queen. “What about the attendants? Can you promise me these drones are just extensions of yourself?”

“No need to worry about attendants,” Chrysalis replied confidently. “I’ve arranged for this as my private spot for the day, fear not about any sneaky little ponies nosing in on our business. Oh, and the same goes for this fine pair of drones right here. They’re safe to be around, isn’t that right?”

One of the two drones, a female, nodded vigorously, earning herself a pat on the head and an indulgent tickle under her chin from the Queen.

“Now, off you go. It’s been tiring week, and I’m sure Miss Cutter and I could do with some refreshments now?”

“Agreed. But no pineapple juice. I can see that one coming a mile away,” Pina stated drily.

The little Changeling mare nodded again, and promptly trotted to pick the requested beverages. The other drone, a much calmer male, wordlessly moved to arrange a recliner for Chrysalis’ luxury before his monarch had even clapped her forehooves. With delight, the Queen threw herself upon the recliner, but almost instantly, she bounced back, irritated, as an unexpected problem made itself felt.

“Oh…” Chrysalis grumbled, giving the recliner a sharp thump. “Curse the management for neglecting to provide the properly sized frames!”

The Queen tapped her chin, then, surprisingly, sat down again, with an odd little smile. “Well, no harm done,” she idly commented, stretching her legs as she eyed the remaining drone. “Thorax, be a dear, will you?”

No sooner than she’d asked, her drone proved he didn’t need to be told twice, nor what to do. With utmost servile bearing, he scuttled to fill the space beneath the Changeling matriarch’s outstretched legs, and propped them up, kneeling to support the much larger mare’s weight. Letting out a sigh of contentment as she slid down and lazily crossed her fetlocks upon the back of her makeshift footrest – who began to delicately massage those chitinous soles with his wings – Chrysalis looked to Pineapple Cutter.

“Mmh, that feels good…” she crooned. “Nothing quite like it in the world, I promise you. Thorax here is the best leg masseur in the entire hive.” She paused, basking for a moment. “So then, tell me, Miss Cutter. What was it that you wished to propose?”

Pina threw a quick glance around, as if to ensure, one last time, that no-one was watching. Thanks to her near-unblinking gaze, few could escape her notice. It was this very attribute which had prevented total disaster from striking after she spotted the deranged Blue Spy.

“I am a middlemare,” she explained. “And my partner wishes to make you an offer. You and he have met before. Though I doubt you remember.”

“Have we now?” scoffed Chrysalis. “I don’t recall a ‘Doctor Salonen’, though I suppose you can’t blame me for having trouble with those dreadfully dull human names.”

“What’s in a name?” asked Pineapple Cutter. “Many would marvel at your ability to remember the name of every last drone in your hive. But can you remember them all?”

“Would you like to know the rest?” Chrysalis deadpanned, cackling at her own joke. “Ah, it’s child’s play, Cutter. Simpler than you might think.”

“Is that so? Well, I heard your footrest has a name, yes,” Pina acknowledged, nodding towards Thorax, still patiently bearing his queen’s hooves across his back. “And what of the other? The female drone?”

“Aphid,” Chrysalis said without missing a beat. “And, what do you know; it looks like the sweet thing has brought some refreshments!”

True to her words, the Changeling mare, Aphid, had returned, bearing a tray full of drinks and a bowl of grapes for her Queen and Pina. The little mare levitated one for Chrysalis, and another for Pina, before moving to the Queen’s side, her wings fluttering to provide a breeze.

“You are an unusual mare, Your Majesty,” commented Pina, lifting her glass to take a sip. Her prosthesis did have advantages a mere hoof couldn’t offer. “I doubt the world has seen anything like you. Except maybe another Queen of the Hive. These drones here for instance. What are they? Servants? Children? Furniture?”

“Children, nothing more, nothing less,” Chrysalis replied, a tad offended. In spite of what Pina presumed to be a slight, the matriarch maintained her smirk, one forehoof patting Aphid. “And always so eager to serve. They are quite the fascinating bunch, are they not, hm? Not of my brood, I can tell, but nevertheless, they are all the same.”

“Yes,” said Pina, truthfully. “And they do obey your every word? Celestia loves her little ponies and the little ponies love Celestia. Yet when the Solar Tyrant was born many turned their backs on her. What is your secret?”

“Why, it’s quite simple! As everything is in the Hive, it’s much, much simpler than what those bookish fellows they call biologists will have you believe.”

“Love,” Chrysalis said plainly. “I provide them love and they serve in return. And that, my dear mare, is where the Tyrant fails. Aphid here has some interesting stories from her unit in the Alliance, for her company’s cook is compassionate and caring, even if she doesn’t think too highly of nobles, isn’t that right, Aphid?”

The little drone in question nodded sheepishly, before looking away from Chrysalis, flustered.

“Tut-tut, Aphid, you’ll get your chance with her. In any case, Miss Cutter, it’s easy to gain loyalty when both parties are equally caring towards the others. The humans would not be united if it were not for some semblance of compassion within them.”

This was the Changeling Queen, a lean, emaciated figure that may at one time have been considered lovely, before holes began to eat away at her body. Pina beheld a monarch of an outcast people, ruler of dust and dirt of the Badlands, yet reclining with all the self-confident poise and grace of an empress, both her lackeys standing at her beck and call.

Though not one to bow before any master; Miss Cutter felt the slightest, tiniest drop of respect for the other mare. Yes, here was someone she could work with. If only she could persuade Chrysalis to take this matter seriously – and she realized the irony of her thinking so.

- - - - -

Discord was sitting on his bed, sipping a teacup, when there came a soft knock on his door. He looked up, to see a young, redheaded man in a tweed coat smiling politely at him.

“Got a message saying someone needed a favor?” he asked. His smile faded slightly. “Wait, was that you?”

“So surprised?” Discord asked with a raised eyebrow. “I should have thought the messenger made it obvious.”

“Somewhat,” the man admitted. “I’ll admit, ‘scary little girl straight from a Japanese horror movie’ doesn’t quite scream ‘Discord’ to me, but it does have a certain ring to it. She was right behind me a minute ago, but…”

“I wouldn’t worry,” Discord grinned. “She’ll turn up. She usually does.”

“Fair enough,” the man said. He folded his arms. “Never met a Discord who’d happily admit to needing a favor before.”

“Normally I wouldn’t bother anyone with such trivial matters,” Discord calmly stated, placing the teacup in midair, floating on its own before it gave a small wobble. The man watched it with interest until it suddenly fell and shattered on the floor, causing Discord to sigh. “Except, clearly, I’m not in my normal state.”

“So, you're the Time Lord, right?” Discord demanded. “I was under the impression that if one wanted off of a particular dirtball, you’d be the man to call.”

“That is, usually, the case,” the man agreed. “I’m surprised you knew I was here.”

“Actually I was aiming the message for Doctor Whooves,” Discord shrugged. “But cosmetic changes aside, I don't see the difference. Except your dress sense is worse.”

“Ugh… Where do I start.” Discord frowned; placing some ruby glasses on and began to inspect him. From somewhere deep within the castle, a certain unicorn mare looked around in confusion as her glasses vanished from her snout. “Alright, the coat is… okay, I suppose. It serves as both functional and fashionable to a degree. But it clashes badly with the corduroy pants you have, and those shoes… really?”

The Doctor folded his arms. “At least I have a dress sense. Doctor Whooves throws a necktie and a collar on and thinks, ‘Oh yes, here's an ensemble for the ages’. When I was him…”

“Yeah, but it work for him. Simple, elegant, shows he means business. Not overly stuffy about having fun while working.” Discord pointed out, with a cough. “Seriously. The shoes have got to go. If I were you, I’d avoid Rarity best you can. She will rip those off you in a second and drag you to buy a decent pair.”

The Doctor smirked. “Truly you missed your calling, Lord Discord. You should have been a fashion critic. I can see it now. ‘Cotton candy coats are all the rage this season, dahling’.”

“Give it time, it’ll catch on!” Discord lean back in his bed, taking a deep breath before looking towards him. “Alright, fashion aside, I am in need of transport.”

The Doctor chuckled. “Alright, so you want to go somewhere to relax, I take it.”

“Yup, just myself, the boy, two droids, and no questions asked,” Discord nodded. There was a weak flash, and his beard turned into something vaguely Obi-Wan esque, while a brown cloak hung around his shoulders. Then he gave a cough and the beard and robe winked out of existence. “Bah. That joke could have been great.”

“Well, fortunately for you, I’m an expert at avoiding Imperial entanglements of various sorts,” the Doctor said. “So… hold still.”

He rummaged in his pocket for a moment, prior to tossing Discord a small, circular gold object.

He brought a small silver device from his inside pocket, which buzzed slightly. Suddenly there came a loud, raucous trumpeting sound, and Discord found himself and his bed sitting inside a dark, concrete-walled room, golden roundels dotting the walls. A single wooden chair sat in a corner, a hatstand with various coats on it was stood in the opposite corner, and the middle of the room was dominated by a small hexagonal control panel.

“Oi!” came the Doctor’s voice from behind him. The man swept into the room, coat flapping. He indignantly twisted a few dials on the console.

“You’ll want to be careful,” the Doctor said. “You press the wrong dial and we could end up meeting something pretty nasty.”

“In any other condition, I might let you,” the Doctor said with a snort as he flicked a switch. “But I think if I let you out in the throne room of any of the various Tyrant Celestias we could meet, they’d currently be able to kill you in the blink of an eye. Hardly restful.”

“Hm, I suppose you're right, at least not now.” Discord leaned back in bed, looking more tired than ever. “If this is what normal mortals go through every time they get sick, then I should do something drastic and probably questionable in the near future so it doesn't happen again.”

“‘Drastic and questionable’,” the Doctor smirked. “Yes, somehow that sounds like you.”

He flicked a switch and began turning a hand crank, yet stopped, looking up at Discord with a suspicious expression.

“Yes, I am, in fact, just that handsome,” Discord deadpanned. “I know it's hard to believe, but it's true!”

The Doctor smirked again. “Ah, shoot, and here I thought it was just an illusion.”

The Doctor rolled his eyes, throwing a glance at the handstand as he did so. He paused.

A little girl stepped out from behind the hatstand. Her pale countenance, bare feet, dead eyes and white dress might have made her intimidating if she hadn’t been wearing a panama hat.

The girl tilted her head as she looked up at the Doctor. He smiled, leaning down to grab the hat from her head. She glowered slightly.

“There’s a nicer one in the wardrobe,” the Doctor said amiably. “Third left, second...”

“So,” he asked, moving over to what looked like a typewriter set into the console. “Where would you like to go?”

“Well, tempting as it is to visit Jack again, I’d rather not be a part of his ever expanding glory to defeat that Aku guy…” Discord said, rubbing his paw against his cheek thoughtfully. “Deadpool is out, his world is just crazy… Can’t visit Felicia, that world is just as dangerous as Deadpool’s… Clearly I would last in the Emperor’s care... for all of two seconds…”

The Doctor held up a hand. “Alright, so a lot of your usual haunts are off the table.”

“Hm… Maybe there is one. I haven’t seen him and his spiritual friend in a while, after reconnecting with the other two. It’s also… normal… ish.” Discord didn’t look at all convinced of his own words at that, but shrugged.

The Doctor nodded slowly. “‘Normal, ish’, indeed. Doesn't sound entirely like your style.”

“Oh, it’s crazy in its own way. I mean… the legal system alone could entertain me for years. But I need to be somewhere that Time is going to be my friend in my recovery.”

“Well, that’s easily accomplished,” the Doctor pointed out, gesturing towards a small, plasma-globe esque arrangement. “Touch that with your… well, with either your claw or your paw, either-or.”

Discord raised an eyebrow, before placing his paw against the globe. “You really going to take me to the future or the past? I mean… it’s me,” he said, a smile on his face.

“Oh, I know it’s you,” the Doctor snorted. “I’ve met worse ‘yous’, by various degrees. Besides, you seem to have gained a sense of prioritizing. I can think of places to drop you that would entertain you well enough, without causing too much disruption. Right, now concentrate on where you'd like us to be.”

“I suppose so. Hm…” Discord frowned thoughtfully. “First, let’s check on my friend, before going with your idea. If I remember what happen last time, he cross-examined a parrot and got a win out of it.”

“Indeed?” the Doctor asked, staring at a screen situated in the far wall. “Well, I’ll look forward to meeting him.”

“Oh, he’s wonderful!” Discord said gleefuly. “If one of the Element Bearers ends up on trial, I think we should call him.”

- - - - -

Conversation so far had consisted of what Pina knew, but felt worth letting Chrysalis repeat.

“See, a Hive Queen is that by which a Changeling drone lives and breathes,” the Queen told Pina, yawning as she did so. “Not always an easy job. I’ve got more than just a few thousand mouths to feed. Speaking of which…” Promptly, Aphid picked a bunch of grapes out of the bowl by hoof, gingerly bringing them to her matriarch’s lips. Chrysalis munched down on the fruit with lazy abandon, staining the corners of her mouth. “If I’m not happy, neither are they,” she explained once she’d finished chewing, Aphid diligently wiping her mouth with a cloth. “That’s not oppression, it’s simple biology. All I ask from them are a few… services in return for their well-being. They do know it’s all for their own good. One doesn’t have to be so blatant in expressing affection. Though, I don’t suppose you’re familiar with the concept, are you?”

This time, Pina allowed herself a small smile. Things might work out easier than she hoped.

“On the contrary…” she began, slyly raising her prosthetic hoof. The blade shot out with a tinny sound of metal ceramic against polymer. “I am a very intimate mare. But most do not understand my idea of intimacy. In this we may share a common ground.”

“Is that so?” Chrysalis inquired curiously, leaning forward with a forehoof resting her chin. “Ah-ah-ah! I do believe I found myself a few scant traces lingering in you, Cutter.”

The Queen closed her eyes in thought, inhaling and exhaling in a rather sultry manner. Soon enough, however, the mare frowned in contemplation, before her eyes shot open.

“Curious, very curious indeed,” she pondered aloud. “Quite the exotic air clouding your mind, though I’d imagined it to be less, well, clouded. You’ve been around, I see.”

“Not in the way you imply,” Pina replied, without so much as a blink. “But I’ve seen things. Do you know what it is people love most? Life. And there’s one moment they love life as never before, yes… I’ve seen it often. In their eyes.” She smiled wanly. “Beauty. It’s what I live for.”

“And what’s this beauty of which you speak, Miss Cutter?” Chrysalis questioned, but Pina felt wavering confidence in the proud mare, with her lecherous demeanor slipping ever so slightly.

“What else?” she answered. “War. There is always conflict on Equus. But for generations never a real war. Not for a thousand years until the Crystal Empire returned. War on Earth has lasted forever. It excites. The humans do love war, Your Majesty...”

“Yes… they do, don’t they?” Chrysalis whispered, leaning back on her recliner in thought. Swiftly, the drone beside her, Aphid, moved to give the Queen a rub on her belly. Even this, however, did not wipe the sullen look befalling the Queen’s habitually lively countenance.

“Your Majesty?” Pina asked glibly. “You seem troubled. I hope I have caused no upset:”

“None of the sort!” Chrysalis snapped back smartly, a pleasant chuckle escaping her lips. “Don’t expect me to be going all soft. I’m merely eager, and impatient by now, to hear of what exciting tales and proposals you wished to speak.”

“Yes,” Pina said, in her usual curt fashion. “Very exciting tales and proposals. The first of them has you at its center. Crashing the Royal Wedding has already become a mythical tale after so little time. Yet how quickly times change.”

Her gaze fell upon the female drone carefully applying her hooves to the Queen’s tender belly.

“Take this drone. If you will,” she commented. “A few months ago ponies were her meal ticket. Now what are they? I am curious to know. Comrades? Friends? Or cold turkeys?”

And for the first time since her entry, the little drone expressed something else apart from cheerful devotion – fear. A look of worry flashed by her compound eye, and the mare paused in her task.

“Aphid, Thorax, you’ve done well today!” she announced, catching their attentions. “Off you go, return to your units. You’ve got a bunch of stories to tell your friends now, haven’t you?”

The female drone’s excited buzzing drowned the muted response of the male one, with her bow being far more enthusiastic. Before she could follow her companion in exiting the door, however, the mare paused and trotted back to Chrysalis.

The little female drone leaned close to her ear, whispering and chittering, before standing back with a hopeful twinkle passing her eye.

“Oh, very well, you may have that cake you saw in the storefront” Chrysalis said, dropping a few bits into her underlings’ hooves. “There, this should more than cover any expenses. Never let Sunbutt claim that Queen Chrysalis doesn’t pay for her stay… as Queen Chrysalis, that is. Now run along, and have a nice week!”

The drone saluted her, trotting off excitedly, and the last Pina saw before she disappeared was the familiar green flash of a Changeling’s transformation.

“Miss Cutter,” Chrysalis began, only now, without Thorax to rest upon, her frame stood out as truly disproportionate compared to the recliner. In any case, Chrysalis pulled back her hindlegs to her lower body, a position which, Pina noted, looked calculated to resemble the poise of mares on pinups. “Alright, first order of business. You said you had questions.”

“Well, nothing better to demonstrate Equestria’s folly by decapitating their seat of power,” Chrysalis replied offhandedly. “The ponies are quite symbolically-minded, and the loss of their capital city would have been a major, shall we say, diplomatic blow to their pride.”

“You are Changelings,” she stated flatly. “You work by disguise. Crouching in the shadows. Impersonating friends and family and lovers. The Royal Wedding was a big public event with Princess Celestia herself in attendance. A huge risk to take.”

“And yet, it was quite the success, given the prominent presence of most of the Guard, and my own impersonation of the bride-to-be!” Chrysalis said, with a rather unfitting giggle to boot. “Though, I must admit, I was rather rusty in her horseshoes. It has been a while since I’ve involved myself so closely on the field…”

Pina raised an eyebrow. “You sound like you were just enjoying yourself. Is that so?”

“Why, indeed I was!” Chrysalis replied, rubbing her forehooves excitedly. “It was certainly fun to toy with Sparkle’s friends, herself, and her big brother too, really.”

“Maybe it was,” said Pina, taking another sip of lemonade. “But to be honest you are lucky to get off so lightly. Didn’t the risk that you and your brood might spend the rest of your lives rotting in the Castle dungeons ever cross your mind?”

Chrysalis’ eyes flared green, and the mare stomped out of her recliner in an unexpectedly furious manner.

“Cutter,” she growled, “my Hive has existed for tens of thousands of lifetimes before me, before the first of your kind crawled out of the caverns you called your homes, and it shall last for another ten thousand, you foolish mare.”

The Changeling Queen stood to her full height, her languid, echoing voice suddenly raised to a bloodcurdling level. Coupled with her expression, it made for an intimidating sight.

Pina stood her ground. “You forget. I come from another universe. And the last Changeling I ever saw was you. A cold body... on an operating table... presided over by my partner.”

“Ah…” Chrysalis softly said, a bit more stooped than before. “So she was.” Silence passed between them, as she droopily sunk back onto her recliner. “Your partner… Doctor Salonen… what does he propose, I wonder? You’ve asked me many questions, but in return, you’ve mainly given me the shadows of doubt.”

Suddenly, a new expression crossed Pina’s face, one equally inscrutable, yet different.

“Let’s not dwell on such dry matters,” she said genially. “Or such depressing ones. No, how about a talk we can all enjoy? The reindeer. Don’t feel singled out, Your Majesty. I can promise you the reindeer of my world are quite dead, too. They found the remains of a massive stag up North just last year.” Pina clasped her forehooves. “Sint’s body was almost as magnificent a sight as yours, yes. You should feel flattered.”

Chrysalis wiped a mock tear off her cheeks. “It must have been quite the loss,” she said, though beneath the mockery, Pina could tell even she was slightly affected by the news. “The last of the Adlaborn, reduced to a cloak and two naive little fawns, a buck and doe. Anna Erklass’s sacrifice all those years ago was, in the end, a futile effort. Nevertheless, I am quite flattered by the comparison, I must admit. Even in death, his echo remains everywhere… yes, I can sense it to an extent. Something as ancient as the Allfather has too much of a residue to be ignored, you see...”

For a moment, the mare with the prosthetic hoof said nothing. Then, when she spoke again, Pina spoke quietly and precisely.

“Your Majesty,” she said, folding her forehooves. “Can I tell you a secret?”

“Fire away,” replied Chrysalis, who loved secrets, especially so she could share them.

“Now,” Pina began, “This is going to sound a bit shocking. Please don’t get too startled. Yes, I know it’s hard to believe yet it’s true. I have never been on Sint’s ‘nice’ list once in my life.”

The Changeling Queen blinked once. Then twice. And then, before the unblinking stare of Pineapple Cutter, the mare guffawed in laughter, her forehooves wrapping around her belly as she all-but rolled off her recliner..

“That’s, that’s your secret, then?” Chrysalis finally said, wiping away a genuine tear of mirth.

The strange mare stared at her, imperturbable, a creature from another world, looking upon the personification of some of the most fearsome this world had to offer.

“And what about the humans?” she asked. “You’ve seen them now. What’s been done to them is awful, yes. But can you call them ‘nice’?”

“Hardly,” Chrysalis said immediately, casually. “Look at all they’re capable of.”

Something about this gave Chrysalis pause. What felt like long hours passed until she spoke.

“Now, Cutter, I believe that I truly see your game,” the Queen said quietly. “You have been prodding me all this time, weighing the connection between me and my Hive, and next to it, poking a thousand tiny holes into the foundations upon which rests my alliance. We are not models of pure heroism, you and I.”

She rose elegantly from her recliner. “Clearly, you have another, more interesting deal to offer. One they wouldn’t necessarily look upon fondly. Very well, I will accept to hear more when the time comes. Hopefully, your Doctor Salonen’s offer will prove worthwhile.”

- - - - -

I had the famed Umbrella Man himself to help me. I should have been pleased: we had an expert on our side, after all. But despite that, I was uneasy… and it didn't help that Stephan was unhappy about him even being here.

And so the board was set, again, for a meeting. I’d gotten confirmation from Princesses Celestia and Luna, the Umbrella Man and Stephan, and Queen Chrysalis would probably come.

DAY ONE. EVENING.

“Miss Catseye?” Icewind said gently. And she knew, from the sound of his voice, that he was looking her over with concern. “If you want to talk about it, please, talk. I’m here to listen. Unless you’d rather be alone just now.”

Catseye didn’t look at him, staring out the window from the far end of her sofa, as she’d been for the last hour or so. She felt, more than heard, when he lay down two cups of tea on the coffee-table beside her.

“The finest from Miss Chamomile Brew’s,” he told her, smiling. “Good thing I thought about taking some back from Canterlot, right? Have a drink. It won’t solve everything, but… it’ll help. Trust me, it will.”

Wordlessly, Catseye reached for the nearest cup, via telekinesis. She took a delicate sip, carefully not to let any drop spill in her reclining position, lips smacking as quietly as possible once she’d downed it. Icewind was right. The roiboos tea did have plenty of heart to it.

As for the stallion, he let her be, silently drinking from his own cup on the sofa opposite hers.

“She deserved better,” Catseye said at last, finding her voice, finding it bereft of tone.

Icewind allowed the words to sink in before making his reply. “Yes,” he said sadly, “she did.”

“And we couldn’t protect her,” Catseye said tremulously, removing her glasses to rub the pain in her forehead. “What good is it? What good is it, if we couldn’t do anything for an innocent who only wanted to protect her child.”

A dull creaking sound reached her as he sank into his sofa. Plainly, he had no answer to give.

“I remember that first meeting,” Catseye said to him, still without looking. “How she’d ask so many questions. About whether humans really are such awful creatures. And I remember… I remember how I disliked her on the spot for it. But, now…”

“She was a mother, Icewind,” she said, remembering more. “Only a mother.”

- - - - -

She gazed down into her bowl of half-eaten soup. She’d once thought she’d be a brewer. Just like Grandpa. Just like Mommy. Her mother had loved juice, and she did too. Whatever made her mother happy, after all.

Aunt Junebug or Cheerilee or whatever Mommy used to call her had said she’d be staying with her. For how long, neither really knew.

All Ruby knew was that her mother was never, ever coming back. Miss Bjorgman had been looking at her funny, as if she remembered something, when she and Aunt Cheerilee had come to the station. But nothing was said, and for all her niceness, Ana left without anything more than a goodbye.

Ruby pushed away her bowl, muttering a muffled ‘goodnight’ to Aunt Cheerilee, got up from the table without a second thought about her aunt calling after her, and climbed the staircase. It was a like climbing a mountain. But, upstairs, her new bedroom’s door was wide open, and that was weird.

The letter was nicely folded, and Ruby had a funny little feeling that whoever folded it had an earthpony in mind when they wrote it. It unfurled nicely, like an unbound scroll. The handwriting was soft, curvy and pretty to look at and Ruby almost dropped it when she saw the name.

Hi, it’s Ana. You remember me as the human who wanted to meet your mother, Ruby.

I’m sorry. I know the feeling. The feeling of loss, and the crushing weight. I should know. My parents are gone, too. I’m writing this letter because, I didn’t try hard enough, or I tried too hard.

Your mother loved you. Ruby, and she will love you always from wherever she is now. I’d like to think she’s in a nicer place, somewhere my own mother told me of.

She’ll want you to move on, Ruby. Move on, but always remember. You’re a wonderful, thoughtful little filly, and she’d be proud to see you grow into a fine young mare.

Your aunt loves you. She told me you also meant the world for her, when she came for you.

PS: The bag has flameless fireworks in them. They don’t need fire to work. If it doesn’t work, give it to Time Turner. He’ll know what to do.

Ruby read the last few letters in silence, before she looked up. Aunt Junebug was standing there in the doorway, quivering, and holding back her tears. Without another word spoken, they embraced each other. One, then two, then three little fireworks floated from their bag, and showered the room in a warm, comforting display of light and color.

The Conversion Bureau: The Other Side of the Spectrum (The Original)

by Sledge115

In The Pale Moonlight – Part 2: 'The Changing Face of Evil'