Another aircraft, one of the large cargo models and the first of a dozen, dithered in the air above the cluttered valley before settling into a gap between a pair of gunships. Hatches under the delta wing popped open, revealing complex shapes and stacks upon stacks of packing crates. Ponies in Security barding trotted between the containers, magic flaring as they moved them to the ground. Behind the cargo the whole side of the vehicle had opened up, revealing machines packed with crystal thaumic systems.
"What is that?" Fusion asked, glancing sideways at Merlon. The Security mare had been silent after her outburst and was staring off into the distance, eyes focussed on nothing.
"Another mobile armoury workshop. My Master thought that your ponies could do with some armour suits, and the comms networking systems that come with them. Weapons too, if you want." Her words were soft and flat, spoken without intonation.
"They are not all as strong as I..." But it's not like we are trained to use the things, like the gryphons. We have our magic... it will have to be enough. "I'm not sure it's worth it."
Merlon snorted. "I told Strategist Orgon you'd say that. Do you see the other ones?" She indicated the other aircraft, which had peeled off and were dropping below the opposite ridge. Fusion nodded; they had the same bulbous look of cargo vehicles everywhere. "Your medics will recognise them. Battlefield medical bays." She turned to Fusion, smiling bitterly. "You're going to need them... not all of your friends will die cleanly."
Fusion's wings flicked and the muscles tensed all along her flanks. "That's right. When a pony dies because of the dogs, they get euthanized. At least these ponies will die for themselves, not some goal that they may never understand, or just because they are worn out." She ground her teeth, then worked her jaw. "You've worked for Orgon for so long that you've forgotten what it's like for the average pony. We die in accidents, or tortured by the Blessing when pushed too far or asked to abandon some basic level of decency. Most of the time we never even know why." She started to feel warm, heat bubbling up from deep inside.
Merlon took a step back, squinting into the haze of light that brightened around Fusion, but showing no sign of fear. "You are but a foal; I could hardly expect you to understand--"
"Stop!" Fusion turned away, taking a deep breath. "How long have you been with Orgon?"
"Almost a gigasecond. I have served him longer than any other Sector Chief."
"He takes your advice, I've seen it. What did you tell him, just before he was going to kill Prismatic and her colt?"
Merlon's ears drooped. "I know my Master. He would have killed them, and others, if it was necessary. I told him that any chance of negotiation with you would fail if his first act was to euthanize those ponies."
"The word is 'murder', Merlon. We are just as smart as they are." Fusion's voice became softer, and she leaned forwards. "Whatever you may think of us, things will never be the same. You've been out from under the Blessing for days now... I think you are starting to get an idea of what a free pony can do."
"I did terrible things, I--" Merlon inhaled sharply, shaking her head, letting the air out with a moan.
"So have I. So has Gravity. You must know it is not all your fault, right? Accidents happen when--"
"I am ten times your age, Fusion Pulse! Do not treat me like a foal!" Merlon's head snaked out, teeth closing with a snap near Fusion's muzzle.
Fusion didn't flinch. "No, you are not, so perhaps you should stop acting like one. How do you expect to help your Master like this?"
Merlon jerked as if struck, undirected magic flickering and flashing the length of her horn before fading away. "I--" She stood bolt upright, wings folded tightly about her barrel, mouth open but no words coming out.
Fusion took a slow step forwards, tentatively reaching out with one wing. "We may not be on the same side, but we have to work together. Look at it this way... your decisions are now yours, so if you still want to serve them, you can."
"I know why they follow you, Fusion. You think I've not seen People who have the same way with words?" Merlon said. "You think you are doing the right thing, but your ideas will get everypony killed." She slumped, head drooping, and exhaled with a great sigh. "We agree on one thing... things will never be the same again. You have pushed us off a cliff, and we have to fly or we'll all die."
A ghost of a smile crossed Fusion's lips. "I described it a different way, but yes. Orgon is smart, possibly the smartest dog--" Merlon's ears flicked back. "--sorry, person. I won't call them 'Master' ever again, Merlon." Fusion sighed and shrugged. "--that I've talked to. He understood the situation when none of the others did. But--" She raised a hoof and scraped it across the rocky ground, staring at the groove she was digging. "--he is only one... individual in the whole Hive. I need to be sure that he has the power to remain in control." Fusion lifted her head and stared at Merlon, searching her face for any sign of what she was thinking. "So, does he? Will he still be in command tomorrow?"
===
Orgon drummed his claws on the console and read the message again. Faster than anticipated. He kept his face blank, pushing away the sudden feeling of tension. A swipe transferred the terse message to a portable terminal, and Orgon walked over to the command centre's attached conference room, nodding at the guard at the door. "Anything from the Councillors?"
"Lots of noise at the start, Strategist, but nothing for the last several kiloseconds." The guard reached for the controls, unlocking the door. "Do you require any assistance?"
"No." Orgon ran a claw along the length of his comms bracer and smiled slightly. "This one expects it will get a little noisier shortly." The guard looked uncertain and hesitated. "Just shouting, nothing more." Even this one would have trouble executing the Synod Core Group without repercussions. The guard nodded, pushing open the door.
"What has Orgon done?! This is treason; he won't get away with this."
Councillor Indutu has not been taking his confinement well. Orgon felt much of his tension drain away, and a customary slight smile settled over his muzzle. Indutu's pale fur, normally impeccably groomed, had not improved since his abduction from the Synod bunker. The other three members looked past him warily, keeping their distance. The pony, they are looking for the pony. "Imaginative as always, Councillor. Perhaps Indutu should remember that the Emergency Powers Act gives the Strategist significant discretionary latitude."
"Not to carry out a coup!"
"The Councillors have not been harmed; Orgon has need of them. He has no desire to declare himself Monarch." Only an insane Person would want to do that. The world has enough Hives like Baur. "There are things that this one needed to do, that the Synod would only interfere with."
"Orgon had no right to abduct all of these ones!"
"Protective custody, Councillors," Orgon murmured, "that is well within this one's power. It is hardly Orgon's fault that constitutional law did not consider talk of wormholes."
"It does these ones no good to scream at each other, Indutu," Shmae said, more relaxed now that it was obvious that Merlon wasn't going to join them in the conference room.
The pony is an excellent interrogation partner even when she's not here. Orgon struggled to control his rising mirth. It's possible that the stress is getting to this one. "No. At this time, Orgon must remain in control. The next stage will likely involve strategic strikes against Hive infrastructure, followed by an attempt at occupation." He held up the portable terminal, waving it at the wallscreen. The Court's message appeared, stark and clear under the seal of the Security Council.
"This one supposes it is of no great shock, Strategist," Shmae said, running blunt claws through her grey whiskers. "What else has Orgon done to make the Court do... this?" She waved helplessly at the screen. "They must know that this is tantamount to Lacunae's destruction. Ordering a complete euthanization of our servitor population, that's just..." She shook her head. "What does Orgon propose?"
"Shmae knows the Court is not the impartial body it claims to be. The other Hives have scented a chance to eliminate these ones at little risk to themselves."
"This much is obvious." Shmae made a sweeping, irritated gesture. "What does Orgon propose?"
"This one would like to allow the Core Group access to the full Synod again, but only if the Group will not interfere with Orgon's plans." He tapped out a set of commands on his bracer, placing the terminal on the conference table and sliding it over to Shmae. "Orgon has given these ones access to all the Intelligence assessments and situation reports--"
"But no external communications?" Shmae asked sharply.
Orgon's smile flashed wide for a moment. "No, not yet. Read the reports, reach an understanding of the Hive's situation. Orgon is confident that the Core Group will agree with his actions."
"Or he'll get the pony in here to mess with these ones’ minds!" Indutu burst out, eyes wide and voice shrill, transfixed by the Court's ultimatum.
"Not helpful," Shmae muttered, using the terminal to rapidly scroll through the reports. "Perhaps Indutu could contribute a little silence to the proceedings."
The servitors use mental magic to train each other... this one wonders if Merlon could... "Of course this one wouldn't do that," Orgon said quietly. He's got more than enough capability in the Security apparatus. "Because there really is no choice. Without a lot of luck, these ones cannot defeat the rogues without resorting to the Court's tactics. Even then it probably won't work. They are too smart and are rapidly becoming proficient in operational security." He smiled, pulling lips back from sharp, white teeth. "These ones built them too well."
"Fine. What does Orgon plan?"
"There will be war, but this one needs time to assemble the Hive's forces. Lie to the Court and stall for time." Shmae swallowed, looking ill, but nodded. "Look on the bright side; if the Councillor fails, she probably will never even see the flash of light that kills her."
"So the best this one can hope for is a quick death." She snorted, then sighed, nodding again. "Fine. This one will support you. Councillors?" She turned to the other two, ignoring Indutu, who had sat back down and was staring at the Court's demands and shaking so hard his whiskers trembled. They nodded in turn and Shmae sighed. "Very well, we will discuss our best approach. Tundru is Chief Justice at the moment; he is out of Baur," Shmae frowned, then sighed. "...but this one knows him in passing, and she thinks that..."
===
Merlon listlessly wandered through the staging area, avoided by rebel and visitor pony alike. Fusion had given her a teleport destination and a name, a pony called Katabatic, somewhere out in the northern highlands of the Hive. She swallowed, hoofsteps dragging but the simple act of walking fulfilling a prey animal's deep desire to move. The unease flooded her belly, filling her with a deep desire to go anywhere but where she was supposed to go. You are a multi-gigasecond veteran of Security, personal servitor to the Strategist himself, so why...?
She inhaled deeply, lifting her head and squaring her wingshoulders. Pony and gryphon shapes flitted through the air, heading for who knows where, occasionally vanishing in pulses of light. Magic was everywhere, filling the dense clouds and layering through the rocks beneath her hooves. Shadow sight showed it better than anything; this place was lit up more brightly than one of the crystal forge facilities. So many ponies in one place. Her shoulders slumped. You know why, don't you?
"I thought they were all going to die, but Fusion and Gravity..." She shivered, the fleeting memory of the sheer power radiating from Fusion while they had talked that first time still enough to make her fur stand on end. That pony should have been angry and... I think she was. No, not angry, sad. Her power had been restrained, bottled up behind a wall of ferocious strength. "I did not manage that conversation very well." She asked me if I was sure, and I was... Merlon's head drooped. "I was," she whispered. I am afraid of what I might find out.
"Pony, you are five gigaseconds old. You know the Masters are right, that their plans and desires are not always straightforward, that sacrifices have to be made. They made us and we have to repay that debt. In return, we have spread and endured across the world, because we are useful. The Masters are the Paws of the Maker." The final words, an oft-repeated litany, sounded hollow and strained.
"There is nothing I can discover that will change this." Her wings flared, coming down in a single flap as she sprung into the air. Pearly light pulsed over her horn and she pushed--
~~~discontinuity~~~
--emerging in a quiet valley under the same pastel clouds. The sky-magic was thinner here, less oppressive, and Merlon felt light as she descended towards the small cleared landing strip. There was a pony waiting for her, a skewbald mare and her foal, both looking up nervously. She landed a few paces away and nodded politely. "Katabatic, wasn't it?"
Katabatic nodded in return. "Yes," she said softly, her uncertain tone making the foal tuck itself behind her legs. The youngster, too young to have acquired anything but the most simple words, peered around his dam's hindquarters, watching her with big, green eyes.
Merlon lowered her head, extending one wingtip towards the foal. He reached out in turn, nostrils flaring as he sniffed the tip of the primary feather. "Fusion wanted me to talk to you, she said..."
The mare nodded again. "She told me, yes. You are a representative of the Strategist... you must k-know where I came from." Katabatic closed her eyes, inhaling deeply.
A statement of fact. Merlon nodded slowly. "You were in Naraka. Is that where...?" She gestured carefully at the foal, but the motion was too much and he jumped backwards out of reach.
"Thunder is my second." Katabatic still had her eyes closed and her voice was calm even as her ears flicked back.
So this is why she wanted me here. "What happened to your first?" Something twisted in Merlon's gut. The Masters are the paws of the Maker. She was one of the unlucky ones, the few selected for extensive studies.
"She went to live in a better place, or that's what they told us..." The fur around her eyes darkened, tears trickling through the pale patches on her muzzle. "...but I saw Fusion's memories of that storage centre at the heart of Naraka." She sniffed, eyes now open and staring off at something over Merlon's shoulder. "We always wondered what it was. We could see it through shadow sight, so we knew all the c-colours. Hundreds and hundreds of lights, just close enough that we could make out individual--" She made a choking sound and fell silent.
What am I supposed to say to this mare? What could I possibly say to her? That her sacrifice was necessary and part of the Master's plans, whatever they are? "I'm so very sorry," Merlon said. "What... what makes you think that what you saw came from your foals? The numbers just don't add up -- I was told that only a few foals had to be used that way."
Katabatic's ears flattened and her head lowered; not an unhappy droop but something more aggressive. "They said our foals were fostered out, but that's a lie, isn't it? We weren't kept isolated, Merlon. I shared a stall with three other mares, and we were allowed regular contact with many other groups in the indoor exercise paddocks. Hundreds of mares, Merlon, and more out of sight. I could smell them and see the glow of their magic through the walls when I closed my eyes. Do you want to know what else I know?"
Merlon struggled to her hooves, taking a step backwards as the mare advanced. "Tell me, Katabatic," she said. It's true, there are a lot of mares here; the population of subjects in Naraka was ninety percent female. Why would they keep so many if...
"They kept us in foal, Merlon. I never saw a stallion, but they must have been around somewhere. They just didn't need very many. Hundreds of mares, Merlon, over half of them pregnant at any one time. How many foals is that, Merlon? How many, and where did they all go?" Her voice rose to a shriek, prompting the arrival of a small group of gryphons from somewhere under the forest canopy.
"You alright, Kat?" one of them called out, staring at Merlon with bright orange eyes. He wore a patched-together equipment harness, but the light autocannon over one shoulder seemed perfectly serviceable. The muzzle, pointed squarely at her midsection, seemed big enough to swallow one of the moons.
Katabatic took a deep breath. "I'm fine, Sigurd. Just some bad memories."
The gryphon nodded, but kept his gaze locked on Merlon. "I know you, pony. I'd be careful if I were you. You don't have any friends out here."
"I'm only here to learn, nothing more. Your leaders have allowed me to come here," she said, straightening. Patterns and plans flooded her mind: teleport here, cast a pain spell there, and--
Sigurd flexed a set of glittering black talons. "I know. I just don't have to like it." He backed off a few paces and pointedly lay down, still watching.
Merlon let the nearly-real magic fade, looking back at Katabatic. "That is a lot of foals... far more than I can account for." She must be wrong. It was a stressful time and would be easy for a pony to become confused. Merlon frowned at the thought. Wouldn't she? "I will ask my Ma-- the Strategist; he will be able to explain this."
Katabatic had turned away and was fussing with her foal, teeth working along his tufty mane. "And how will you know if he's told you the truth? You've known him a long time, haven't you?" She searched Merlon's face, then nodded, satisfied with what she saw; Merlon's ears dipped slightly in response. "You do that, Merlon. You ask your master and really listen to what he says and how he says it."
===
Arne watched the ponies appear in a patch of empty air and scratched at the feathers above his helmet ring. "I wouldn't believe it if I couldn't see it," he murmured. "How much can they carry during a jump?" Rump sinking to the ground, he followed the flight of one pony as it settled towards a churning, multi-coloured herd.
"Don't really know the ultimate limit, but we've done some drills. One can take a pair of fireteams, two a gunship, three..." Ellisif shrugged, eyeing the Red Talon sersjant. "Got anything in mind?"
"We were told things are going to get worse. Command has sent out one of the more... terminal battle plans in light of your friends’ abilities. Deep strike missions into other Hive's population centres. A bit like what Baur did to us at the start of the Three Day War."
Terror units in the arcologies. Ellisif nodded. "I see. With pony support you could do so much more, but I wouldn't expect many to take an active role."
"Just getting into position would be most of the work." Arne ran a talon down the side of his beak. "To insert spec-ops teams directly into the arcologies..." His eyes narrowed, mind occupied by some vision of slaughter.
"Perhaps we can do something more useful than killing civilians, Arne." Perhaps Svartr shouldn't spend too much time with this gryphon. "What do you think would happen if we removed the command locks from their gryphon forces?"
"You want to trigger a rebellion?" Arne's beak opened and closed and he looked at Ellisif. "Just like yours."
"Being free has its benefits," Ellisif said mildly. "I quite like not having a shock collar. Then there's the medical support our ponies give us."
"My unit has a long history of servi--"
"Mine too... at least it did. Not many of them are left now." Ellisif shook herself. "You don't have to keep up the act, sersjant; I know you think the dogs are listening, but things will change for us. Nothing like a war to shake up the natural order." She cocked her head, beak half open at his uncertain sideways glance. "It's hard to break out of the pattern that has been set for us... I understand, I really do. You are at the top of your game, but it never was your game."
"I can't think that way, it's not safe!" Arne looked panicked, shrinking away from the circle of his command collar. "The consequences of rebellion are--"
"One of the ponies has already fixed that for you. The shock unit was disabled when you came to us, as were the surveillance modules." She leaned forwards, tapping his collar with one talon. "I know, I've seen the object lessons the dogs have made in the past. Things are different now and are never going to be the same again. We have a chance to build a gryphon nation, away from all the dogs."
"It will never work. The Masters are too strong," Arne whispered, eyes darting to the korporals under his command. They hadn't moved and were still focussed on the discussions with Ellisif's own unit commanders. "Even if Lacunae lets you remain independent, the Court will not. The Hammer..."
"We may have a way around that... but for it to be fired it requires a target. If we free enough gryphons across the world, the targets become the arcologies themselves. They won't sacrifice that many of their own."
"You were in Security and you say that?!" Arne sighed. "We may be deployed into the enemy Hives soon enough, but how would..." He paused, looking thoughtful. "When I got here, there was a flash of magic that was gone before I could complain...
Ellisif nodded. "That was all it took. No surveillance, at least not to outside your unit, no command enforcement module, no remote override. Collar, armour, personal weapon, the lot."
"Cracking the locks on my collar wasn't hard for the pony; I didn't even realise it was being done." The words were muttered and accompanied by a distant look, like Arne was fixated by some barely-visible prey. "We know where the main barracks are, and the arsenals are close at paw..."
"We have much to talk about," Ellisif said. "Even if this doesn't come to war, we still want to liberate all the dogs’ slaves."
Arne looked at her, eyes wide. "You don't think small, do you?"
===
They have really spread out... seems like a well thought out approach. Merlon gained height over the forested valley, not really seeing the tree-filled ravines or the lead-coloured river that moved through the middle of it all. The next teleport memory was much like the one that had brought her here, except a little more alpine and near the tree line. There was no clue as to how far away the place was, so Merlon pumped her wings to gain a little more altitude before folding them in and tucking her legs up behind a grey haze of telekinesis--
~~~discontinuity~~~
--the smash of her excess momentum left her gasping for an instant, then she opened her wings and halted the accelerating fall. Snowy peaks surrounded her, shrouded by the same pastel clouds, their forested lower slopes giving way to the high alpine meadows glimpsed in the borrowed memory, and Merlon dropped towards one, marked out by a flicker of magic deep underground. Fusion wants me face what was done, does she? Well, I followed my orders, and--
There was a herd of foals in one of the meadows, perhaps a score of them, galloping and play-fighting amid the flowers. There was a single adult with them, at the approximate centre of the herd. Black and tan, with curiously shrunken wings, the pony was naggingly familiar. She'd seen Merlon and was watching her approach, so Merlon came in for a careful landing next to the young mare, now at the centre of a patch of clear grass and the focus of all of the foals' attention.
"Random?" Her gaze flicked over the feather-stripped wings and focused on the stump where the other mare's horn should have been. What game is Fusion playing--
Random stared at her, mouth working, then abruptly wheeled and kicked out with both hind legs, catching Merlon on the shoulder, before cantering away. Merlon staggered, then magic blazed around her horn, enough power to reach out and strip the flesh from Random's bones. She held the twisted medical spells in her head, the nasty things almost begging to be released, then let them fade along with her anger.
"I suppose that's not the worst response I could have had," Merlon muttered, studying the mare, who'd stopped a score of lengths away. She brushed out the two near-perfect hoof-prints, absently repairing the broken capillaries and bruised muscles under them. "Random, I just want to talk about all these foals. I'm... I'm sorry for what I had to do to you."
"Are you?! You took me after they put me through the machine and turned me into a mass-murderer!" Random was breathing heavily, screaming out the words.
I followed my orders, I did what my Master wanted. What I've done, I did because it was right. Her ears drooped slightly, uncertainty making her heart flutter. Merlon's eye turned downwards. "My Master used you as a tool to discover the... the--" Terrorists, rogues, what? The Masters have made a kind of peace with them. I did terrible things and it was all for nothing. "I had my orders, Random. When my Master speaks, I obey. What choice did I have?" She looked up, meeting Random's wild gaze. "I really am sorry. No pony should have suffered like you did."
"How much of it was planned, Merlon? How much did you deliberately put me through?" Random advanced on Merlon, her head low and jaws snapping together on air with a hollow clomp. "Do you have any idea what that machine did to me?" She breathed in with a gasp, starting to pant. "My dreams, oh, sweet Maker my dreams--" Some of the tension in Random's neck and shoulders subsided, her jaw hanging slack and eyes going wide.
Merlon flinched, distant memories of her own Security assessment flickering at the back of her head. She cleared her suddenly dry throat. "I was older than you, but out of everypony here, I do understand. I was selected for the same training, more than three gigaseconds ago, and I can still remember parts of it." She smiled, a pained thing with no joy in it. "But that's still not the same. I had support, while you were locked in a gryphon-guarded cage with your own thoughts." Merlon shook, all over, stiff feathers rattling against each other. "Not what you asked. Only the last bit was deliberate. The rest was all Agent Salrath's doing."
"Why?" The fury had almost gone, leaving Random's voice a hollow thing, full of confusion and pain. "I did nothing except protect my foals, and... and she--" The mare swallowed, closing her eyes. "I just want to understand why she did this to me," she whispered. "I never even met her."
Merlon tentatively closed the remaining distance to Random, but didn't try to touch her. "I was present while my Master talked to Agent Salrath, after he discovered what she had done. She had a justification, but I also know the Agent's history. She should never have been given control over you. She... she was a true psychopath, scoring high for sadism and narcissism." Merlon gave another pained smile, unseen by Random. "She was also a smart, intuitive thinker, and very good at her job."
"You are probably wondering why Security would want such people." Random nodded, shifting her weight slightly towards Merlon. The dapple-grey mare gently extended a wing, laying it across Random's back. "Security has to do evil things to keep the Hive safe. The other Hives are a real threat. I have been present for more than one enhanced interrogation, keeping a prisoner alive and penetrating their minds while pain was inflicted upon them. Salrath and others like her could do this, and other things like it, without any regret. She was just born like that. The worst thing is that she could have been cured, but she was more useful this way. I suppose it is kinder than artificially inducing the condition."
Merlon rested her head atop of Random's. "You did your duty and were punished for it. It wasn't fair and then I compounded the crime by using you to get at Fusion and Gravity. We were at war and all things are justified in war. Apparently." The muscles of Merlon's cheeks bunched as she gritted her teeth. But I would do it again. "How did the other ponies take your... betrayal?"
"I wanted to die, but they wouldn't let me."
"Of course not. We all understand, at least at some level. What about all this?" Merlon lifted her other wing and waved it about the field, taking in the herd of foals. Most of the youngsters had cantered off, circling around the adults in an extended game of 'catch me', or were nibbling experimentally at the grassy sward. Half of them are not even weaned... how is she feeding them?
Random snorted, shaking Merlon's wing off her back. "You really don't know? What do you think happened when the Hammer hit our base?"
"You had enough warning to evacuate many of the ponies," Merlon said slowly, brow wrinkling. "By teleport, I assume." That attack was futile and would only have worked if both Fusion and Gravity stayed out of a desire to help as many as they could. She frowned, looking down at the other mare. How many were in the corral and Naraka? It would never work... I don't know how much more strength those two have, but I couldn't jump more than a pawful of others. "But you couldn't get everypony out, could you?"
Random, eyes shining with unshed tears and her ears drooping, nodded. "They rescued me, but many had to just fly out. They couldn't get far enough. Dams carrying foals as best they could. The teleport spell is hard to master, and the Naraka ponies were too out of practice to learn it quickly. Those who could worked in relays to save as many as they could from my stupidity."
"They gave up their foals," Merlon said softly.
Random nodded, a quick jerk of the head. "The older ones were fostered, but these had already banded together for comfort. We couldn't separate them without causing more distress."
"So here you are."
"Here I am. They are my penance and..." She smiled, looking down at one of the foals, a colt, currently butting her in the flank, before giving him a quiet nicker. "...my salvation. I wanted to die, but Fusion wouldn't let me. Now, I have to live. How many other dams have so many foals?"
"I understand." Merlon stared at the chaotically moving herd, her gut clenching. There are too many foals. Why did Naraka have so many foals? The Board can't tell how useful a breeding line will be until the ponies in it reach maturity. "So many foals." Was it just a single generation, and it's just a coincidence that all this happened at the same time? "Kept them pregnant all the time, she said." Random was looking up at her, confused, and Merlon waved her away, then turned and started to walk in tight circles. Was Katabatic telling me the absolute truth, then? Should I have asked for a sharing? "The Court wouldn't allow it, not normally, unless..." They didn't know, or... or-- She lifted her head, staring blindly at the pastel cloud base. "Where did all the foals go?" she whispered. The Masters are the paws of the Maker.
"I think you know." Random bent to nuzzle at the colt, then trotted away, the foals all following her and leaving Merlon alone with her thoughts.
===
The gryphoness moaned slightly and her hindleg twitched, but didn't really move despite the pain she must have been in. "Sorry," Lilac murmured, tightening his hold on the nerves that connected the limb to her spine. She sighed, then nodded, closing her eyes. His horn flashed and her leg was suddenly pulled and twisted, the unnatural lump under the muscle of her hip vanishing with a sharp click.
"I didn't feel it!" she said, shivering slightly.
"You shouldn't, either. There's no excuse for pain with thaumic medicine." Lilac probed the leg, noting the torn muscles and rapidly developing bruises. More magic drained the excess fluid from the inflamed tissue and cooled it far more efficiently than an external ice pack.
"Well, I've never had a pony work on me either. Thank you." She gently flexed her hindpaws, letting the claws extend and retract.
"Why did you come to me? I thought all the new medics were managing the military injuries." Lilac kept his eyes closed, sweeping the gryphoness for any signs of hidden trauma. "I don't have anywhere near their experience."
"You've helped some of my friends... and besides, the other ponies seem, ah, resentful. They are doing as they are told, but they don't like it." She twisted slightly, then froze when Lilac frowned. "I trust you. You care about us. Listen, will my leg will be okay? We're being deployed and I need to get to my gunship."
"You'll be sore, but that was a pretty clean dislocation. There's no evidence of damage to the cartilage. I'd suggest you take it easy, stay off the leg, but..." She stood, clicking her beak, already reaching for her armour harness. The injured leg touched the ground hesitantly, pulling back when the gryphoness realised that Lilac's nerve blocks had been removed. "Don't take too many painkillers -- you want to feel if you are doing yourself more damage," he said, rooting through the collection of medical supplies and proffering a small spray bottle. "...and try not to land on that leg." She nodded, spraying some of the liquid under her sharp bird tongue.
Lilac stared after the gryphoness as she half ran, half flew down the tunnel that lead to the outside, then looked for the next patient. "That's it?" he said softly, feeling a little lost. There were dozens before. I guess they don't all feel the same way about the new ponies. "There's no one else?"
"Nope, all finished," Spiral said. Little flares of green light danced over the accumulated trash of a dozen medical interventions that had taken place in the settlement's medical bay. The discarded material -- single-use drug ampoules, sterile wrappers and stained dressings -- was wadded up and placed in a bright yellow bag marked with a biohazard symbol. "You've learned fast." Her face twisted, ears suddenly drooping. "I wish..."
"It's a better life than I had before," he said, pulling out a bag full of pelletised food, part of the supplies delivered by the dog cargo aircraft, and munching his way through them. "The taste of this stuff reminds me of home," he mumbled past a mouthful. "Now I think about it, mealtimes were the only good things about the lab. At least they fed me well." Pale violet flames danced over his hind quarters, pulling his legs into the correct position for standing.
Spiral shivered. "That was no way for a pony to live. Considering everything, you are doing very well. That's battlefield training for you," Spiral said, some of her pained expression fading, "they always said it was the best. How is your own treatment going?"
"Slowly. There's always been someone else to help. I have a bit of feeling just above my left pastern, but no motion yet. My telekinetic control is really pretty good now; I can even manage a slow canter, if I concentrate hard enough." He stretched out his wings, frowning at the dark stubs of pin feathers poking in the gaps where he'd recently lost a few clipped primaries. "What I really want to do is fly, but it's going to take megaseconds before my feathers are big enough." It's been a very long time.
"You'll be ready about the same time as Random." Spiral's ears went back. "That mare who pulled out her first flush of new feathers is here, and Fusion is talking to her like she's done nothing." Her face twisted. "And she wanted Random to talk to her. Hasn't my filly suffered enough?"
"That Security mare was Blessed, it's hardly--"
The mare's lips set in a hard line. "Oh, I think she knew exactly what she was doing." There was a clatter of hooves in the outer chamber, and Spiral's ears twitched upwards. "Random!" She wheeled, cantered the few steps to the arched opening, and swept her wings over the tired-looking filly. "It's so good to see you, but--
"Dam, please, I only have a few moments. The foals are all in the secure paddock and eating, but I can't leave them for long." There was a neigh, muffled by distance and intervening walls, and Random's ears twitched. She made a little movement, pulling away from Spiral.
Spiral nodded, a gentle smile softening the worried lines on her muzzle. "I understand. I was the same about you and your sister." The smile faded, replaced with pain for a moment, then returned. "Come on, I'll help you get them settled."
Lilac watched them go, flank pressed against flank, a sudden flash of loneliness blowing through him. He paced, the slightly uneven cadence of his hooves rattling off the stone walls. Listlessly, he completed the task of getting the medical stalls ready for the next person who might need its attention. "Will you stay with me?" he murmured, remembering the alcove in the lab, his home for most of his life, then shook his head. "Random has no magic or flight; at least I have my power."
There was a howl, distorted and stretched, echoing down from the surface, the sound of turbines being pushed to full power, then a sudden silence. "The only thing that protects us are the spells in the clouds, and I'm stuck here on the ground." With nopony else to help, what can I do? Lilac looked at his wings again, fanning them uselessly. He felt light, like hundreds of balloons were attached to his bones, but there was no lift. Refolded, the weight returned. It is just the thrust that's the problem... there's nothing wrong with my magic or the muscles. I've seen Fusion fly without using her wings, and that's just brute force.
"You're not quite that strong, are you Lilac?" he muttered, extending one wing and concentrating. Sweat started to make his fur damp, but fireflies of light crawled along the leading edge, spreading into a sheet that extended rearwards along the clipped feathers like shards of luminous glass. Little crackles of sound, high and near ultrasonic, accompanied each fresh splinter of magic-made-solid. Now the fields were actually formed, maintaining them was much less effort; Lilac sighed, twisting the wing and fanning the new feathers.
"It would be unfortunate to lose concentration at altitude..." he said, biting at his lips. Do I really want to do this...? The effort of maintaining the first set of fields faded to a distant buzz, and Lilac opened his other wing to repeat the process. He let out a little groan as the final force-field feather flickered into place, then moved to the centre of the chamber and gently fanned both wings. The sensation of ground under his hooves vanished.
"Ha! Look at tha--" he called out, then whinnied as the synthetic feathers vanished and he fell the short distance to the stone floor, staggered, then fell to his side. "Yes, focus is the key." He groaned, climbing upright and breathing heavily. Practice. Eyes closed, he built the fields again.
===
Orgon looked down the list of servitors that Merlon had trained. Competency ratings were next to all of them; the most adept were already training others and so on down the whole Security org chart. This one already has enough ponies to do the job. Another list joined the first; this one with a set of locations, a scattering of high-security prison cells.
He called up his connection to the labournet, tagging a set of servitors, those with teleport capability and a skill in memory extraction. Orders were issued and the codes representing the servitors flickered out, reappearing at their required locations. A stroke of one paw tagged a pony and opened surveillance feeds from the cameras in the vicinity. It was a section of the facility's reception chamber, kept empty and marked off with hazard tape for just this eventuality. The perfect place; every servitor who'd visited the prison had come through that room.
The other People in the room -- a few Agents and other support staff -- flinched at the pony's flash-thump of arrival. A few firearms were half drawn, then paws relaxed and the guns were returned to their holsters. The pony -- a stallion with a pure black coat and bright green eyes -- furled his wings and stepped forwards, a little hesitantly. None of the People tried to stop him, and he trotted smartly to the desk to face the officer on duty.
"Targe EO5350. I need access to prisoner Thelin." The pony recited a string of numbers from memory.
The officer stared at the pony for a long moment, long enough that Orgon's paws twitched towards his comms equipment, then gestured to an Agent standing near the entrance to the cell block. The pony nodded in response, following the guard. The view switched from camera to camera, following the pair deeper into the complex. The final destination was past the single-occupancy cells and into a zone filled with sterile equipment and a row of bulky cylinders, their casings packed with complex arrays of glowing crystals.
The Agent tapped out a command on her bracer and one of the cylinders slid open. Inside was a pitch-black shadow of a Person, absolutely motionless. A breath, and colour flooded across the Person, making him real again, albeit quite still. The pony leaned forwards, horn glowing a dark violet, then a moment later the same colour washed over the body. "The relativistic field is collapsing as intended." The Person's eyes, blank and staring at the opposite wall without any trace of life, blinked languidly, then rapidly, then flicked from side to side. Muscles tensed and he struggled to rise, a futile effort against the restraint systems holding him in the pod.
"--no, don’t!" He flinched, all over. "Agent Caru, you don't-- How long? How long has this one been in suspension?" There was panic in his eyes, and his head whipped from side to side.
A momentary evil smile flashed across Agent Caru's muzzle, then it faded into weariness. "Thelin, it's only been five megaseconds. The world is still the same as it was."
Thelin's rapid breathing faded and some of the terror faded into mere anxiety. "This one has told Security everything. He was never a spy, just a tourist."
The Agent shrugged. "Don't care, not this one's problem. This time, Security is more interested in where Thelin lived. All his memories of his home arcology, all the wide open spaces and public access tunnels."
"B-but all this is public record, there are accessible camera feeds, Baur Hive doesn't block everything!" The pony leaned forwards again, magic lighting up his horn, and Thelin shrank away, trying to sink into the suspension pod's rear wall by force of will alone.
"Nevertheless, this is what we require. This will not hurt, Master--" Targe said, looking uncomfortable.
"As long as Thelin doesn't resist," the Agent said happily, tapping at a shock rod on her belt. "Then it might sting a bit."
"No, please--" The hornlight brightened, the deep violet making something in the pod's padding fluoresce a pale green. Thelin twitched and shivered, like he was in the throes of a nightmare, then stilled. His eyes opened and he inhaled sharply. "That's it? That's all the pony wanted?"
Caru glanced at the pony, who nodded. "That's it. Back to sleep with Thelin." She stepped back, tapping on her bracer. "See you in a couple of gigaseconds."
"Wait, no--!" Thelin's voice dropped rapidly from a squeak to a growl, then vanished completely. Shadows moved sluggishly over his body, fur becoming darker and reddish before fading to absolute black.
"Master, that will make my next interrogation more difficult," the pony said, a little reproachfully.
"Ah, come on, Targe, this one knows it's nothing the pony can't manage. Thelin will calm down quickly enough." Caru slapped the stallion on the rump, making him jump forwards a step. "What's all this for, anyway?"
"I'm sorry, Master, I have been ordered not to say." His ears flicked back, an expression of discomfort across his muzzle.
"Don't worry." Caru held up a paw hurriedly. "It's not important. Is the pony done here?"
"Thank you, Master. Yes, all finished. I have to complete the rest of my orders. Please step back."
Caru jumped back hurriedly, naked curiosity on her face. "Be careful, pony. This one wouldn't want to break another servitor to Caru's sense of humour." There was a flash-thump and the Agent was alone.
===
"Monarch, the Court has agreed with our assessment. We have been ordered to assault a series of locations within Lacunae Hive." There was a sense of unreality to the words, and Ininil felt his gut tighten. Other screens on his console reported the readiness of Baur's forces -- concentrations at dispersed bases and others flying convoluted courses around the borders. Of more interest was the scatter of green stars across the core of the Hive's lands, marking installations of servitors in deep armoured pits, magic already charged and magazines stacked with projectiles.
Firing solutions were springing up across another map, long curved lines following ballistic arcs that rose briefly into the still-lethal low orbits before dipping down to spots scattered over a part of Lacunae Hive. The curves were varied; the closest targets had the highest loops, while the distant ones were almost flat by comparison. Other arcs, these in different colours, rose from other parts of the world as rarely used Court comms relays tied together the disparate and normally hostile strategic systems of three Hives. A timer started in one corner of the screen.
Ininil pulled a key from around his neck, staring at the small sliver of metal for a moment before inserting it into a slot in his console. "The attack order has been given. Does this one have the Monarch's permission to grant the Court fire control authority?" Luna was above the horizon, and the Court was watching. If Ininil didn't launch, the Court would take up the slack with shots from the Hammer, and no doubt send a few their way as punishment.
The Monarch, white fur almost gleaming, looked thoughtful. "It's almost a pity these ones will have to share... perhaps there is something that can be done about that later." There was a distant look in his eyes, and Ininil fought to keep his face attentive. Finally, the Monarch nodded, pressing a paw against something out of the camera's field of view.
Ininil, claws touching his key, froze for a moment. The nukes are targeted at the servitor rebels, Lacunae bases are only getting kinetics. There's nothing useful left in orbit, nothing that can give Lacunae more than a few seconds warning... please let this work. The taste of bile filled the back of his throat and he jerked into motion, twisting the key all the way around. Paw dropping limply away, he dimly registered the Monarch's voice, but could only see the scatter of green stars start to flash an angry red as the timer spooled to zero. Little beads of light started to climb along the arcs.