//------------------------------// // Part 2: Hedgemaze // Story: Message in a Bottle // by Starscribe //------------------------------// Flurry Heart could always tell when a pony was humoring her. If she wanted to go on missions with any of the Elements, they would always agree. It didn’t matter if she asked for something absurd, didn’t matter if she wanted to go into danger or a social situation where another Alicorn would make things worse. They always said yes. Which was how she knew that she didn’t belong. It seemed very likely to her—practically a guarantee—that her aunt had asked them to go easy on her. They were close friends, so they did what she asked, and Flurry Heart was allowed on whatever mission she wanted. She didn’t end up going. When the day of departure arrived, she always made some excuse, and she could see the relief in Rainbow Dash’s face, or hidden in the quiet mutters of Fluttershy. They all wanted her to be happy, certainly. They just didn’t want her to come with them on their missions. Even Twilight Sparkle had a little of that to her. She always made time to see Flurry Heart, always listened patiently to her when she talked about her experiences in occupied Canterlot, often with some advice for how she might overcome her persistent nightmares. But even her aunt occasionally glanced at the clock when they were together, and made excuses if she asked to go walking through the mines or swimming together in the pond. “Sorry, Flurry,” she would say, in the sweetest possible voice. “But I have to…” And then would come the excuse. Made worse by the fact that Twilight was certainly justified in getting rid of her. Flurry Heart was nothing but an inconvenience, and the less involvement she had with the war effort the better. If she hadn’t been so willing to escape pain by doing what they told her, maybe more of Equestria would’ve survived. But there was one place she could go, one pony she could see. Flurry Heart had her friend back. Lucky Break was always moving, always somewhere else in Motherlode, patching another metaphorical leak or putting out a metaphorical fire. She wouldn’t leave her work behind for Flurry Heart—she was a governor, whatever the heck that meant. But she would invite Flurry Heart to come help, even if her help probably made things worse. So it was that Flurry Heart found herself meeting with groups of rebel pony commanders, riding with a shipment of food to the desperate and starving Cloudsdale, installing new weapons on Solar Fleet ships beside a hundred drones, and many other strange things. “How do you know what to do?” she asked Lucky one evening, after they’d just dropped off the last batch of medicine for some sick foals in the refugee camp just south of Motherlode. “All these things… you’re always moving, always productive.” Lucky Break didn’t wear a crown when she worked, or any jewelry at all. Only a holster, with a small metal human firearm inside. Flurry Heart had never seen her need to use it, despite how tense things sometimes got. “I cheat,” she said, lowering her voice conspiratorially. “I’m always cheating, every leader does. It’s the only way to keep up with it all.” “Cheat… how?” Flurry Heart had been expecting something Celestia might’ve said, about the reliance on character, or maybe the power of friendship. But her human friends were nothing if not surprising. “Oh, easy.” She flicked a wing. “I ask Forerunner what I need to do. And if I’m not sure about something after that, I ask the other ponies I trust. Find an expert, get their opinion. It’s called delegating. Most of the time, we’re really just being seen and running errands. I don’t know how to fight a war, that’s why we have Qingzhi. I don’t know how to manage supplies, or run a mine, or… well, not very much of anything. I’m a translator. But I can stand up straight and tell people nice things. I can promise them we’ll never give up and that Forerunner is going to win the war. Do you think the ponies around us expect more?” “Seems like it’s working,” Flurry Heart said, her voice weak. It got even weaker as she asked another question. “Do you think Forerunner would help me too?” Forerunner had no drones with them today, not even carrying supplies. But she was always wearing a translator, in case the humans switched to some other language she didn’t speak. And sometimes Forerunner used it to talk to her. He did now. “I can,” Forerunner said. “But you might have to do some hard things. Maybe you aren’t ready to face them.” “I’m ready!” Flurry Heart exclaimed. “I’m ready for anything. When we… when we go to save Equestria, I want to be part of it somehow. That could be one of the things you tell me to do.” “Helping somehow,” came Forerunner’s voice, “is easy. But that isn’t the same as joining the mission to seize the Stormbreaker. You will not be part of that expedition.” Even you? But she didn’t let herself drift down into despair. Forerunner had given her nothing but honesty—he also didn’t care about pride, or about how satisfied ponies were with his opinions. He wasn’t being spiteful when he denied her, only practical. “What about Lucky? Is she going? I have the same training with fighting that she does!” “Not a chance,” Lucky said from behind her, her voice weak and nervous. “I went once before, and that mission ended terrible for all kinds of reasons. I’m leaving it to the professionals this time. They know better how to fight. Twilight Sparkle is going for that—she’s fought magical monsters before, and the Storm King is probably one of those. But I’m going to be on-call if they need more Alicorns. I’m gonna help with the big work camps around Canterlot, actually. My parents…” She trailed off, voice going very small. “Well, I don’t want to see anyone else lose family members onto a slave ship. Those camps are going to realize what we did and start punishing their slaves. That’s where I’m getting involved.” “I could go with you!” Flurry Heart cried, desperate to do anything to help at this point. “Forerunner, could I do that? Would you let me?” “I would,” Forerunner said. “To my knowledge, the only way to effectively kill you would be to use the crystal weapon that was deployed on the other rulers of Equestria. I predict that it is unlikely that slave camps would have defense forces armed with these weapons. But there is still a nonzero chance you will be slain in the course of the battle. I do not know the process of returning to life outside the spell that Lucky Break used and has not been able to repeat.” They reached Lucky’s quarters about then—their shared quarters now. There was a shelf near the entryway, cast in sturdy red wood and filled with little treasures on pillows. Each one of them was a gift from another faction or important pony, gifts of gratitude given once they’d started fighting for the rebellion. Lucky seemed proud of each one, though she never would’ve admitted it. Lucky hung her gun on a hook, then flopped sideways onto an overstuffed cushion as though she were going to deflate. “Then I’m coming with you,” Flurry Heart declared. “It’s settled. I can still be useful to Equestria.” “I’m sure you will be,” Lucky said. “I’ll be glad to have you with me. But I don’t know how much actual fighting I’ll do. Mostly I’ll let the 75th handle things and try not to get in their way. That’s kind of the whole reason you have soldiers—you let them fight for things like this. But they might need our help, and if they do… then we’ll be there.” “Great,” Flurry Heart said. She removed the coat from her back, then a bright yellow floral hat. Her mane was still ragged and uneven from where Perez had cut it, and the dye he’d used wasn’t washing out. But at the roots some of her real colors were coming back, so… the fewer ponies recognized who she was underneath, the better. But Lucky Break hadn’t judged her for it. There was no disgust in her face when she looked at her, and not even any pity. Humans were weird, but sometimes that was a good thing. “Just have to be ready,” Lucky said, as though there’d been no interruption. “We don’t know when the opportunity will come. Not more than a month, though… after that, the Storm King should reach Motherlode on his inspection order. When that happens…” She trailed off. There was no need for Lucky to elaborate. Once the Storm King came to inspect the town himself, their ruse would surely be discovered. Gruber had already moved on from cooperating out of greed and was working out of fear. The instant he saw a way out… “I’ll be ready,” Flurry Heart promised. “I’m going to get them back for what they did to my family. And we’ll put Equestria right.” The ground appeared under Sarah seconds later, somewhere else. Harmony already gave James weeks when I was only here for a few minutes. It will probably do it again. But what she couldn’t work out quite yet was why Harmony did anything it did. So far as he could tell, it didn’t have any sort of incentive. But it was also far more intelligent than she was, far wiser and further-seeing. Sarah had worked with people smarter than herself before—and she knew better than to call their actions random. What seemed like noise could combine together at the last possible second and cause her terrible harm. So she’d be alert every moment for the sense. The place they arrived was far stranger than any Sarah had visited before. Lush green rose all around her, twisting in a hedge maze of glittering thorns. In the distance she could see metallic structures glittering under the light of a few different moons, each one a slightly different shade. She was a pony again, and so was James—restored to the unicorn shape she was used to from him. See James, this is why it won’t work. You’d have to change so much about yourself… And even then, how long did Sarah’s relationships really last? Not long enough for James, at least if his monogamous clone was any guide. Harmony had not brought a crowd this time, only the one metallic body. It stopped at the edge of the yawning green wall, as though prevented from moving forward by an invisible line. “This is where isolation begins. I can observe what takes place within, but not reveal it to you, so I cannot give you any preparation for what you will find inside. Your friend is there, along with…” Harmony trailed off, its voice darkening. “Many others.” “Thanks,” Sarah said, stepping past the threshold towards the thorny maw. She could hear birds inside—mostly crows. “If you change your mind and want to leave, I can get you out,” Harmony continued. “Either one of you. Simply request it, and we can be back here. But once the request is given, I cannot discuss it with you, only obey the command.” Harmony tapped the side of its head with one hoof. “It need not be given vocally, either. If you desire to leave, that is enough.” “I don’t,” Sarah said loudly. “And neither does James. Not unless we’re leaving with our whole crew.” “That may change,” Harmony said. The wind picked up around them, lifting fallen leaves from the edge of the hedge. When it settled down again, the two of them were alone with the chill. Sarah gestured, and they set off into the maze. Sarah eyed the edge of the path, and the spearpoint sharpness on each thorn. I wonder what would happen if I walked into a dozen of those. Can I bleed here? Would I die and wake up another layer down? She resolved not to find out. The maze had many twisting paths open to them—some that seemed wide and brightly lit, others with walls that loomed so close that they were veiled in shadow. James hesitated at the first fork, but Sarah just sniffed the air and pointed towards a low tunnel without hesitating. It smelled the best. “Did you ever think…” James said, his voice low. “That Ocellus didn’t try to leave either? Doesn’t that mean something? She could’ve found you.” Sarah shook her head. “I’m the only citizen here. Ocellus doesn’t have the same permissions in here that I do.” “Or she doesn’t want to find us,” James said. “Can you blame her? This… place… looks pretty awful to me, but maybe it’s what changelings like.” As he said it, something massive lumbered around ahead of them, its footsteps dislodging brown leaves from the wall. Sarah could make out a massive shape on the horizon for a few seconds, then the footsteps faded into the distance. A few crows called out mournfully. “Maybe she wants to stay home.” “No.” Sarah nodded confidently. “She just can’t, that’s all. You’ll see once we find her. Or… maybe she’s waiting in place because that’s the smartest thing to do. I don’t know if you ever heard, but when you’re lost you’re supposed to stay put so the rescue party can find you. We’re the rescue party, and we’re going to find her.” “If you say so.” James slowed, trailing behind her by some distance. “I miss the beach. I think I understand why Harmony doesn’t have to fight very hard to keep the downstream population down. There are so many worlds in here, all perfect.” He stumbled sideways into the wall, yelping in protest as one of the thorns went straight into his side. Real blood welled up there, at least for a few seconds. The hedge seemed to drink it in, old brown leaves growing bright green from where he’d been cut. “Dammit, that hurts! Why the hell did they put that here?” “Because we can’t close the door to ponies,” said a tiny voice from around the bend. Sarah hurried forward a few steps, and found a black changeling there, its insect eyes looking at them. Its hooves were attached to something firm—like a huge block of cement. It was held down with rope, and obviously couldn’t move. It looked shriveled, its body covered with bits of moss. “So we planted a hedge around our country, tall enough that no one unwelcome would enter. The doors are still open, so Harmony’s law is satisfied.” Sarah couldn’t help herself—she reached out, brushing the dirt away from the poor creature’s body with a wing. “How long have you been here, uh…” “Stinger,” said the little voice. “Since the queen judged me. I was unworthy of her service, so she put me here to watch for intruders. I’m not very good at watching for intruders.” The poor creature looked like it should’ve died—but her attention was helping. The more she fussed over it, the more alive it appeared. “James, what do you think we can do about the rock there? Any ideas?” “I… maybe. Flurry Heart talked about transmogrification spells a few times. I could change it into something else. Or maybe you could, you’re stronger than me.” “I am forbidden from leaving my post,” proclaimed the changeling, its voice half-hearted. “I need to scare away intruders. Rawr!” But there was no malice in it, even though its fangs might’ve been frightening on a healthy creature. “Rawr,” Sarah repeated. “We’re scared, terrified even. So scared we’re taking you with us.” “That’s not what scared means,” said the little voice. “Oh well.” Sarah nudged James closer to the stone block. “You do it. It doesn’t have to work for very long, just long enough to get those legs out. “Fine.” He rolled his eyes. “Just get out of my way for a second and don’t mess me up. Because there’s a good chance I might liquify the wrong thing. I’m pretty sure it works just as good on alive things as it does on cement.” Sarah obeyed, getting ready to move. And good thing too, because after a brief flash of light, the bug started to sink right down into the rock that had been holding it. She moved with a jerk, catching it by one leg and tugging it out onto the loamy earth. A few seconds later and the cement went solid again, still showing the deep grooves from her recent tug. The bits clinging to the changeling’s leg were still rock-hard, but that probably didn’t matter. Compared to what had just happened. “There you go.” Sarah rose, brushing the dust off her chest and lower body. “You’re free, Stinger.” “I’m free,” Stinger repeated, and Sarah became more confident she was dealing with a male. He buzzed up into the air, circling them once and grinning. He sounded like a completely different creature than the one she’d spoken to a few minutes before. “You let me go. Why would ponies do that?” “We’re not ponies,” James said. “We’re humans. Explorers from a planet called Earth. We don’t have the same—” “Explorers,” repeated Stinger. “You’re from homeworld. How are you here? Why are you here?” He landed, though his wings kept buzzing on his back, just not quite fast enough to lift him into the air. “Wait, probably you shouldn’t be. Harmony’s like a bear-trap! If it knows you’re here…” “Too late,” Sarah said with a shrug. “But that’s fine. We’ve never actually seen Earth, so we’re not missing Earth. It’s only our memories that are from there… it’s a long story.” She rested a wing on the bug’s shoulder again. “We’re looking for a friend of ours in there. Ocellus, maybe you know her. Could you help us get through the maze?” “I’m supposed to stay alert for intruders…” Stinger said, his voice doubtful. “But you aren’t ponies, so… I guess you don’t count. Despite appearances. Maybe you should look like something else? That might make it easier.” “I don’t want to be a Vitruvian here,” James said, looking up at the strange moons. “It’s too dark. I’d be miserable.” “Why don’t we just fly over this hedge?” Sarah asked. “It’s only… twenty feet? That’s not impossible. A third of ponies can fly.” “It is impossible,” Stinger said, voice regretful. “We could build the door however we liked, so we made only one way in. The wind up there will push you back to the start of the maze.” “Then…” Sarah gestured. “I’m guessing this is the correct path. You were here to try and watch it, so… there’d be no point guarding the wrong way.” Stinger nodded. “It isn’t as far as ponies think. The atmosphere scares most of them away before they go further, and the higher complexity stuff doesn’t even bother with us. Just… don’t mention my name, okay? If you ever see the queen… I dunno how she’s ruling right now, but if you’re ever in Irkalla, we didn’t meet.” “Sure,” Sarah said. “No problem.” “Cuz’ she’s dead,” James added. Sarah winced, glaring sideways at her companion. Telling him that isn’t going to help! And it didn’t. Stinger stopped walking completely, eyes widening with shock. “Not for long,” he said. “She… she’s died before, most of us have. She’ll be back.” “I’m sure,” Sarah said, slowly and loudly. Over whatever James might’ve done to make things worse. “We shouldn’t distract our guide, James.” Finally he got the hint, at least enough not to say anything else completely stupid along the way. Despite what Stinger had said about the length of the trip, they had days to journey through the dark. It smelled like their guide was leading them the right way, but Sarah couldn’t have said for sure. All she had was the general sense that they were moving the right direction. It wasn’t just twisting paths and confusing turns in front of them—the maze confronted them with monsters too, with puzzles and locks and tests of skill. But they had a guide, a guide who knew this route well and had taken it many times. The worst danger in Sarah’s mind was the possibility that something in here might kill them, and send them back to start over. They didn’t need to sleep at least, and when they got hungry Stinger directed them to strange fruit that grew from the blood-red parasitic vines snaking through the maze. It tasted foul, but at least it kept them going. Then, when it seemed that James was running out of strength and Sarah herself thought the next bit of maze might drive her completely insane, they reached the exit. An archway of living plants, nearly two stories tall, beyond which there was a starship. It rested in an orbital drydock through the archway, surrounded by dozens of smaller support-craft, by workers in space suits. And in the distance far below, the green and blue glow of a planet. Not Earth, from the continents—but somewhere very like it. Sarah stopped at the edge of the arch, staring through to what appeared to be the void of space. It was an extremely impressive image, but it wasn’t sucking her out into the vacuum. There was no avalanche of air into the opening. “Is this… a screen?” she asked Stinger, not sounding too confident in the hopes that she wouldn’t seem too stupid. “No.” He sat down right in front of the line. “It’s just a view from the outside. Step through here, and we’ll be on it. And we can part ways. I appreciate your freeing me, but…” “We know,” James said. “Well, Sarah doesn’t. She’s never been one of you, but I have. I know what they’re like.” “Thank you,” Stinger said. He rose again, hesitating by the edge of the arch, then he stepped across. He vanished instantly, and the view didn’t change. Well, we weren’t betrayed. But Sarah had already known they wouldn’t be. The poor drone had been too drained and emotionally weak to try something like that. Even if a healthier changeling would. Even if there was no need to harvest love here to sustain their bodies, being alone and stuck in the ground for who knew how long had to be hard. “Now we go in,” James said, stopping beside her. “This is what you wanted, right?” “Yeah.” Sarah rose, and walked beside James through to whatever waited beyond. They’re preparing to leave tomorrow. Evacuate if you can. The document was signed with the hoofprint of Daring Do, someone Olivia knew nothing about but who Rainbow Dash swore was one of the best and most reliable ponies when it came to undercover work and dangerous missions.  Olivia read over the scan a few more times, along with its notes provided by Forerunner about handwriting interpretation and context. It suggested that the writer was confident about what they were saying, deeply afraid, and that they had a serious problem with their father. Well, maybe she couldn’t take everything that handwriting interpretation claimed seriously. “Tomorrow,” Qingzhi repeated, staring down at his own computation surface. It was just the four of them in the emergency meeting—Melody hadn’t been woken, and the Elements of Harmony were away on assignment. Well, except for Rainbow Dash. The other ponies had been given a recall order, but whether they’d get back in time… “This puts a serious limiter on the degree of force that could be turned against us. Serious offenses take far longer than that to organize… are you sure this information has not been compromised?” “Totally.” Rainbow Dash hadn’t picked up English any better than Olivia had first picked up Eoch, but she was quick on her feet and adapted seamlessly to wearing a translator. “She gave it to me herself. Daring Do has literally never been wrong before. Every time I second-guess her, I find out it’s my fault in the end.” “Hmm…” Qingzhi set the tablet down, glancing sideways at Olivia. “What do you think?” I don’t think you should be asking me. I’m just an advisor. Lucky should be the one asking me if she wants my point of view. But Lucky didn’t seem to mind—she wasn’t particular about the specifics of formality. “He could move without a whole fleet,” Olivia said. “From what I’ve been researching, I don’t think he’d move the Stormbreaker. Sending it across the country to a tiny town in the middle of nowhere would be a show of weakness to the rest of Equestria, and he knows it.” “I agree,” Qingzhi said. “But he could still move against us. We have special forces who could deploy in less time, it would be vain of us to assume no others are capable. His most skilled mercenaries, perhaps. If they lost or simply acted too strongly, he could later deny them as pirates and raiders, preserving his own reputation. That seems likely to me.” “Woah.” Rainbow Dash glanced between them in turn. “You guys think about this stuff a lot.” No one responded to that. “Then it’s not a big deal,” Lucky said, settling back into her seat. Despite talking mostly to them, she used Eoch, forcing Olivia and Qingzhi to rely on the translator. Well, less than they had. Olivia had been spending so much time with the natives lately that she could make sense of simple sentences now. It wouldn’t be long before she got as good as Perez. “We freaked out over nothing. Their mercenaries won’t be a danger to us. We know their abilities now, and we’ve prepared for them. Forerunner will decimate their forces.” “I will.” Forerunner’s voice came from the nearest terminal. “Or together we will. A number of the natives are involved in our defensive plans. Regardless, that won’t be the end of it. Unless we think we could buy off our attackers, send them back with false reports. If we can’t do that, then… their defeat will expose us as surely as their victory.” “That’s why Daring Do says you need to get out,” Rainbow Dash said, tapping the original message against the table in front of them. As though its advice would be somehow more convincing than the digital, translated scans. “We could all load up into that big ship, fly away to join Cloudsdale over the Badlands…” “We cannot,” Qingzhi said. He kept glancing at Rainbow Dash, then meaningfully back to Lucky. It seemed obvious what he wanted to do—get rid of her. But Lucky either didn’t notice, or didn’t care what he was trying to imply. But when she didn’t say anything, he eventually went on. “Protecting Motherlode is mission critical. We have invested much in these facilities, and our war will collapse if they fail. Our allies will not get the food they need, or the medicine, or the weapons. Motherlode is the central node around which our entire war must be organized. Unless… we wish to abandon our allies and retreat outside Equestria’s borders.” This time, he caught Olivia’s eye. And she knew what he was thinking, even if he wasn’t bold enough to say it. But for that retreat to work, we would need to bring with us or destroy every native who is aware of our true nature. Every person in Motherlode, every one of the “Elements of Harmony,” and a few other trusted contacts. If Olivia had been in charge, she probably would’ve given each of them a communicator to be recalled, which could double for a kill-device if their loyalties turned. Lucky was all about communicators, but less so about tools to clean up a covert operation when something like this happened. So an orderly retreat might be doomed anyway. “We’re already operating on assumptions here,” Lucky said. “Several deep. We don’t know if this is routine, or maybe something leaked. I’m leaning on the latter… I think it was probably something in Gruber’s letters. I know we’ve been screening them, but… they were brothers. We can’t know him as well as the Storm King.” “We must take the path that makes our success most certain, regardless of the permutations of what others do,” Qingzhi said. “This means we must attract the entire force sent to investigate us and destroy it. We will have more time to gather our forces then, but not much more. The Storm King will surely realize we are moving against him once his servants do not report. But by then, we must have already moved. The timeline is advanced… by about a month.” Olivia’s eyes widened as he said it, and she hastily scrolled through her computation surface. She settled on the letter she had in mind. “I… don’t think we can do that,” she said. “Our friends in Camp Storm think they need another month. They really didn’t seem open to pushing the timeline up, they just don’t have the resources.” “I, uh…” Rainbow Dash took a step back. “It sounds like you guys don’t need me. I’m gonna warn my friends now.” “Sure.” Lucky waved her off with a wing. “Keep your communicator with you. Don’t leave Motherlode without saying something.” “Something,” she said. A second later the door slid closed behind her. That seemed to even annoy Lucky, who was otherwise friendly with the Elements. But she didn’t try to call Rainbow Dash back. Probably no one could catch her anyway. “Of all the elements of this operation that cannot fail, infiltrating the Stormbreaker is most critical,” Forerunner said, as soon as the door had slid shut. “Even if every one of us is destroyed—if whole Equestrian cities are leveled—all that can be rebuilt, so long as the Storm King’s rule is broken. But if he still commands that terraformer… then he can destroy everything we build.” “More force from my unit will not help,” Qingzhi said. “If the camp suspects something is wrong, the shipment will be cancelled. Lucky’s eyes settled on Olivia. “What do you think?” she asked, after a pregnant silence. “I hate to send you away when we’re about to be attacked, but… how do you feel about leading a field mission?” Fuck you. “Yes,” she said. “You know who I want.” She dropped her computation surface to the desk. “Time to pack. You… figure the rest of this out yourselves.” She left without another word. Sarah didn’t feel a thing as she stepped through the gateway into the home of all dead changelings. One minute she was in the winding paths of their protective hedge, the next… she was in another time. It reminded her a great deal of human space stations. People in clean uniforms, public service announcements blaring and distant machinery doing whatever they were supposed to do quietly off on their own. She recognized the ship instantly as the same one Irkalla was built in, except that it wasn’t rotting away. The screens all displayed important information, the empty balconies were replaced with holographic displays, strange metal railings now had working escalators. It was a real ship. She stumbled for a moment, adjusting to the spin-gravity. She did so quickly, but James behind her wobbled a little on his hooves. “Where… what… why would they want to live on a ship?” Stepping through the barrier had changed the two of them in a similar way as visiting the Vitruvian planet had done. Sarah looked like a changeling—a bright blue and pink one, with bits of yellow and unusually prominent horns. She glanced briefly over her shoulder, at where the crystalline wings emerged from a thick jumpsuit. Certainly not the worst thing she’d ever worn. James hardly seemed to notice the change—maybe he’d already somehow been a changeling underneath, or maybe he was just too used to being one to be caught flat-footed. At least once on the other side she didn’t feel like there were so many eyes staring at them. Sarah hardly even felt different, though on an intellectual level she knew the body she was walking in was different than the one she was used to. She could feel her hooves give slightly differently with each step, and no longer felt the air in her coat or her mane in the same way. They’d changed into something like fins, rather than the long hair she was used to. I can’t believe I miss being a pony. But she did—she’d probably rather be a bat than the tall, semi-human creature that lived on a sun-blasted world and spent most of its time underwater. As interesting as it had been to take a look at their differences in culture. “I… probably should’ve thought of this,” Sarah muttered, as soon as they’d recovered and kept walking. Living in Irkalla had prepared them for this a little—except that all the vehicles transporting people around the ship worked, all the escalators functioned, all the machines were in perfect repair. So despite living like parasites in the ruin of greater technology in the real world, here they pretended like the ship was theirs. And I guess it is. Or they’re descended from the people who owned it. “But I don’t actually know how to find Ocellus. She’s kind of an important pony, and…” She trailed off, face reddening. “I guess we could… find a computer. Punch in her name, that kind of thing.” “Don’t bother,” said a voice from behind her. Ocellus’s voice. A changeling emerged from the crowd, bright and colorful and wearing a jumpsuit that seemed to match those being worn all around them. “I found you. It took you long enough to get here.” Sarah couldn’t help herself—she hurried over and embraced her. She could feel the changeling tense visibly at the gesture, but not nearly as much as Sarah probably had at the idea of a date with James. And now her human colleague would have to watch her enthusiasm at seeing their friend again. “I’m not very happy with you,” Ocellus said, once she’d broken away. But Sarah noticed she hadn’t pushed her away. She could’ve ended the hug at any time, but she hadn’t. “After what you did… you’re kind of the reason we’re dead. You gave my father the chance to turn against us. If it hadn’t been for you… he would’ve had to keep waiting. Maybe the whole mission would’ve gone by before he got a chance to screw us.” “Maybe we shouldn’t talk about this out in the open,” Sarah countered, aware of all the eyes on them again. Most of those eyes came from black changelings, their furtive bug eyes impossible to read. It might just be curiosity. Or it might be something else. “Sure.” Ocellus gestured, and they climbed into a people mover cart that was only then landing on their level. They slammed the door shut before anyone else could get in after them, ignoring the frustrated glances and swears of the other members of the crowd that had been following. The cart sealed around them, and lifted up and away. But always with the floor in the direction of spin-gravity. “There. Privacy.” “I’m sorry I didn’t listen to you,” Sarah said. “I didn’t think… I thought your father wouldn’t want to…” She trailed off. “Wait, why are you still calling him that? We’re dead now, right? So… when we go back, we’ll have new parents.” Then her expression twisted into one of discomfort. “Ugh. I’m not sure I want that. Being born is super nasty, and if I wasn’t a baby for it…” “Do you care about the question or not?” Ocellus asked. She didn’t look any older—or any different at all, really. Sarah had half-expected she might’ve been changed by dying, somehow. But so far as she could tell, the changeling looked exactly as she had right before their awful escape plan. Sarah nodded. “Sorry. This is all so new, I… I like to ramble.” From beside her, James burst into bitter laughter. But he didn’t actually say anything, and as soon as he’d quieted Ocellus picked right off from where she’d been going. “Pharynx isn’t my birth father. Since I was born under Chrysalis, that’s impossible to know anyway. He’s my true father.” She tapped the side of her head. “The old queen, she… showed us all of this. The day when we were the crew of the Inanna together. Of all the ponies on Equus, we were the ones who followed her here. We’d always wanted to have a place to call our own, and she showed us how to build one. Showed us that we didn’t have to wait for the end of the Quarantine to start living if we didn’t want. We could prepare before that.” “How many times has your father killed you?” James asked, his wings buzzing sympathetically. “That was… the first,” Ocellus admitted. “We haven’t been on opposite sides before. I didn’t enjoy it.” There was silence then, except for mechanical sounds as their little cart was lifted and transferred onto the next of many rails, and they buzzed out into space. There were a few brief blares of siren, then gravity faded. Sarah began to lift off her seat, but she tried not to react. She didn’t want to look silly to Ocellus, a drone that was apparently a skilled spacer. Or the child of them… she still wasn’t clear on the details. “I waited for you,” she went on, eventually. “I thought you’d be here sooner. Don’t you care about making contact?” “Of course I do!” Sarah exclaimed. “I got here as soon as I could. You didn’t have to hide behind some freaky hedge maze. Maybe stand at the front of it next time if you want me to get here quick.” “O-oh, yeah. Forgot about that.” She giggled. “Good news is you won’t have to get through it again. There’s a shortcut after you make it through the first time. Assuming you’re ever back here. If your ponies are really as advanced as you say, I’m hoping this place will clear out soon enough. We’d rather live on the surface, doing… whatever it is you do on the surface of a world. Maybe you know?” “Whatever you want,” Sarah supplied. “But we need to get back. I know how you people do it normally, picking a feral and hoping it gets woken up, but… that won’t do. We’re on a budget, and your father stole all our cash. We need a shortcut… there’s got to be one of those. Some door that we can just walk out of or whatever.” “I… I don’t know any,” Ocellus said. “But somepony new showed up, a year or so ago. I think she can help us.” She leaned forward to the control panel, wings flapping to hold her in place as she pushed. “Who?” James asked from beside her, apparently genuinely curious. “Someone who knows more than you?” “Yeah. Just the worst enemy we ever had. All that time we wasted debating things downstream… and Princess Celestia was here all along.”