//------------------------------//
// 263 - Infiltration 
// Story: Putting on a Silver Robe and Wizard Hat 
// by David Silver 
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Silver strode down the hallway, alone, but not. He was sure his two female companions were nearby, simply unseen in their enigmatic way. They weren't simply invisible, he was certain of that. With his magic, he could feel them, darting around, never stopping.

Until he didn't. They both moved ahead out of his range. What had they seen? With cocked ears, he advanced more swiftly, hoping to catch up to them. A glowing came into his view, rapidly resolving into many smaller sources. Runes of unknown origin were carved into the walls, ceilings and floors. In other places, entire channels of the glow ran right between the letters. He could feel the intense magic that came with the glow, but it was not pouring out into the hallway.

It was all part of some greater machine. A machine meant to deal death on a mass scale, if the reports were to be believed. He felt along the channels and into the runes as he went, trying to get some sense of what was at work there, but was like feeling braille without having much of a clue as to the language being used.

There were hints, faint snatches. As he walked, it was as if a faint story was being whispered to him. Location. Pattern. Grip. Precision. Grip. Strong. Pattern. Contact. He stopped, focusing on the rune that held the unicorn magic pattern for contact. He saw it was beside one of the channels, touching it. His eyes began to follow the channel, focused on it as he hastened his clip-clops. The hallway ran into an intersection, continuing forward and left and right. The channel went right, so did he without hesitation. 

He didn't know which way his companions had gone. He had to have faith that they would do the best they could do with or without him.





Nefertari threw herself against the wall beside an open archway. Sheba appeared on the other side of the same opening. Both peered inside, where the lines that ran through the facility seemed to collect at a central pool.

Sheba smiled, sharp teeth displayed. "This brings back memories... You looked in at such a place just when we first met. Do you recall?"

Nefertari frowned. It was difficult to forget such a thorough defeat. She would have to think of some revenge she could enact without bothering her soft husband too unduly. "Is there a guardian here?"

"I should think so." Sheba swung around the doorway, walking into the room as if she owned it. "Come on out. If you're wa--"

A sword struck the space Sheba had been standing in, leaving a deep gouge in the ground, though it had missed any runes or channels.

"Found him," half-sang Sheba with a feral grin as she sailed through the air with the force of her spontaneous leap around the new figure. "Shall we dance?"

The assailant was a great bear of a man, literally. Held in his two ursine paws was a massive scimitar, its curved blade promising nothing but pain. "Traitor," he grumbled in a low growl as he lashed the scimitar with speed that seemed at odd with the heavy weight of what he was swinging. "Death is almost too kind for you."

Nefertari was abruptly behind the still turning bear, her claws displayed at the end of her crooked fingers. With a cruel slice, she tore into his exposed back. "Watch yourself, you don't dance alone."

Not as much blood was freed as she expected, her claws meeting with tough links of metal, though she was certain she felt some flesh be struck through the holes. She was already springing away as he spun around, great sword coming down at an angle where she had been a moment before.

Sheba was on him the moment he turned, tearing a nick out of the bear's ear and flecking the blood away even as she sailed away from the guardian. "At this rate, I can't even say this is a good fight. Is this all you have?"

The bear turned his scimitar to go left to right and grabbed the dull side of the end of the blade in his left hand. With a tremendous bellow, a shockwave of force billowed out of him in all directions, shoving Nefertari and Sheba up against the walls in a brutal shove that knocked the air from their lungs, to say nothing of the rough impact of their bodies against the unyielding stone.

Before they could recover, he was charging at Sheba, feet pounding the ground and scimitar raised high. "Die," he spoke with a clarity, devoid of anger or pain, as if it were a simple request.

His sword bit into the stone, but there was no feline there. Nefertari was pulling her through the air, tossing her aside. She wore a victorious smirk on her face, knowing it would eat at Sheba that she had been rescued by a jackal. Sheba span in the air and landed on her legs, just in time to dance around a wild swing. "You do have some spirit in you," she hissed, ducking under a high swing and bringing in a clawed hand, catching him at the ankle where his armor stopped, forcing the bear to stagger back.





Silver heard the faint echoes of something he couldn't identify easily. It sounded vaguely metal? Was it part of some machine? He couldn't say, and he ignored it in favor of following the line. It wound through the hallways, eventually leading to a small room that seemed to be barely more than a closet with no door.

There was a feline sitting there, male. They were siamese in coloration and sat cross-legged. When they saw one another, the feline nodded at him. "Mmm, I thought your companions would find me first, Prince. Will you do me the honor of sitting a moment?"

Silver perked his ears curiously, surprised. "I would be happy to." Someone that didn't want to immediately attack him? Surely this was a good event. "You know who I am. What's your name?" He sat out in the hallway, looking in at the cat. The feline was slender, as befit a siamese and most of their kind. Though he had seen a few fat cats, it seemed most leaned towards the slimmer profiles. He wore cool blues and purple clothes. They were like robes, freshly laundered and crisp looking. He had a pocket at his breast.

"I am not that important," assured the cat. "I would ask you a question or two, if you've the time." He pat the floor gently. "You are a kind pony, this much is clear. You are here, following your pony heart, trying to live by the virtues of your people." He raised his hands and brought the paws together. "What was it? Generosity, Kindness, mmm, Laughter? A curious one, that, how does one try to 'be' laughter? Nevermind, Honesty, Loyalty, noble virtues to be certain."

Silver sat up, watching the feline curiously. "One should try to create laughter, to be a source of positivity that others can draw from and in turn spread it further. Please, don't think of yourself so small. What is your name?"

He smiled softly. "You are no local ruler, this much is clear. I doubt we will become lifelong friends, but since you wish to know, I am PiPo, the speaker." He dipped his head softly. "I am a diplomat, much like you, good Prince. I am gladdened you found me first. Perhaps we can speak our differences aside?"

Silver brightened. He could only see that as good news. "I would be happy to try. You plan to... Let me rephrase that. From what we have gathered, you intend to harm a great many people, possibly fatally. Is this correct?"

He inclined his head. "That is one way of looking at it. The people we would harm are those who have brought regular and terrible harm to the people of this region. There are few that would be saddened for the lack of a few jackals. Why does it pull so strongly at your heart?"

Silver gestured back down the hallway he had come from. "There was a jackal, here. She is a nurse and doctor. She treats the injured and sick. She will be hurt, possibly killed. Where is the justice in that?"

"Regrettable," sighed out PiPo, chest heaving. "We will keep her comfortable until the last moment. We bare her no malice, but the removal of her people is a greater net positive than her one life provides. The harm we bring is painless and swift. They simply will fall as if ready to retire, and they will, never to awaken." He tapped the ends of his fingers together. "As gentle as we can be, to bring peace."

Silver cringed at the image of countless people toppling over, never to rise again, so many lives brutally snuffed. "She is not the only good jackal here. There are many others. They are a changing people, and even at their worst, it was never all of them."

"Such as your wife?" he said with two twiddling fingers. "We have watched her. She abuses you and claims authority she does not have. She is a prince's consort, and you are that prince, yet she does not defer to you. She is violent and aggressive. How is she an example of goodness?"

"She is... rough, but she is learning." He sat up tall. "She is softening, just like her people. Death is rarely the answer. To casually snuff out so many lives for the pursuit of the 'greater good'? That rarely leads to a good place. Focus your anger on those of theirs that are the cause of the problem, rather than at them as a whole."

"Mmm, I feel we are at an impasse. You cannot assure us safety from the jackals, but do not seem amenable to our plan." He slide up to his feet smoothly, patting himself down. "Regrettable."

Silver's ears jerked upright. "Are you going to attack?"

"Perish the thought. I am a diplomat." He moved towards the archway, though Silver was in the way. "Pardon me."

Silver was confused a moment. "You're just going to leave?"

"What else can a diplomat do when his words fail?" He lifted his shoulders and hands in a mighty shrug. "I will report what we have spoken."

Silver shook his head. "Please, just a moment longer... You know many jackals are preparing to leave, to Equestria. Doesn't that solve the problem?"

"It changes it," agreed PiPo conditionally. "The softest of them, eager for a better way, will leave. The hardest of them will remain behind, for us to deal with."

Silver raised a hoof. "Have you ever asked why?"

PiPo furrowed his brows. "You need to be more specific, Good Prince. Why what?"

"Why are they violent? For just a moment, assume they are not born to be violent and ask why is that the road they travel?" He wobbled a hoof in the air. "Do they live in a place where other forms of survival are possible? Could they be farming? Could they be fishing?"

"I should imagine neither of those things are suitable for their home." PiPo shrugged softly. "We did not choose where they settled."

"No, you choose where you settled, and there is only so much land. In the early days, did different species get along?"

"I should think they still do not always get along," murmured PiPo. "Where are you going with this?"

"So they were dealt a bum hand. The desert was the place they claimed, likely because the others were taken. They learned how to fight and win survival by force, since there were few other options. Now we move into an age where war is not the first course of action."

"Mmm, yes. You're explaining why they need to be handled." He rolled a feline paw.

"Why not turn that to good ends? If many of them are ready to fight, let them. Turn their eagerness to bleed towards law. Let them be bodyguards. Let them be peacekeepers. Let them be soldiers. If they have a reason to battle, they will, eagerly, and without hesitation."

PiPo's sour face brightened to a smile. "Clever pony. I will deliver the idea, but I am of no rank of significance. May I move past now?"

Silver hurried to the side and waved onwards. PiPo advanced into the cleared space. "It has been a pleasure speaking with you." He inclined his head towards Silver. "Though I feel I have failed in this spar."