//------------------------------// // Chapter 21 - Transition // Story: Golden Age of Apocalypse - Book III: Legacies // by BlueBastard //------------------------------// Chapter 21—Transition “It felt like springtime on this February morning…” Immediately, Celestia’s hand shot to her side and yanked her phone out of her pocket—that was “As I Lay Me Down” and she had that tune selected specifically for one individual. “In the courtyard birds were singing your prais—" Luna could tell it had been a text and evidently from Sable himself, given the way her sister seemed to instantly relax as she read the message. “I’m guessing that Sable is alive?” “Yes,” said Celestia with a satisfied smile, though it didn’t last long. “Apparently, the whole thing was intentional bullshit on the part of that damn admiral. From the sounds of things, she’s been relieved of duty temporarily pending an investigation, but the true story is that everybody made it out of whatever hellhole they’d gone to.” The look on the younger sister was one of mild surprise. “That’s good to know, but I can’t believe that a senior officer would lie about such a thing.” “I didn’t either, but apparently this Tumblehome mare has a propensity for sabotaging anything that doesn’t fit her needs.” The elder sister’s scowl only deepened as she added, “Additionally, due to that fallout, Sable apparently has to travel to the Navy Yards at Port Aquasteed and he’ll be tied up for at least another day.” She sighed. “I was really hoping I’d get to see him, even for a few minutes.” “Oh, dear, whatever is a woman in love to do?” teased Luna, but the hard look Celestia gave back was not of a mercilessly teased sister, but of a woman about to go to war. Celestia’s face hardened in a look that gave Luna uncomfortable flashbacks to the moment her rebellious “Nightmare Moon” phase ended. “I’m gonna give that little pony whore a piece of my mind, that’s what.” “Tia, are you sure that’s really the best thing to do?” “Lu, that bitch would’ve told me point blank to my face that the man I love and three girls that are practically family to us that they died painfully, horribly and pointlessly—and she would have done so without so much as blinking an eye! You should know that’s not leadership material anywhere!” “True, but what about the blowback? This world is still wary about humans, and news is getting out about Sunset’s near-beating-to-death of one of the captured terrorists, as justifiable as it was.” Celestia laughed coldly and that seemed to scare her sister—it didn’t seem natural for her at all. “And what is she going to do if I get in her face? She’s under investigation, she’s been disgraced and even aside from that, from what I get the other service heads don’t really trust her. Maybe it’s about time that someone gave her a little perspective.” “Tia, perspective does not involve giving idiots contusions, no matter how much they deserve it,” Luna cautioned. Celestia walked way, calling back, “No promises.”.” It was close to the time the sun would need to set, but the sisters of day and night were not preparing themselves for their usual roles. Instead, they were at the parade grounds “Why am I doing this again?” asked Luna. “Because we always did guard inspection together, sister,” replied Celestia. “You should know how to do this, and eventually you will have to do it alone.” “No thanks; I’ve been stuck doing your job all day. And no, it hasn’t been nothing but cake eating, though I certainly now understand why that’s your vice above all other vices.” “A high attempt at jocularity,” drolled the elder alicorn. “It serves my needs. But seriously, sister, —some of the things required of the monarchy are antiquated and flat out absurd. And that’s coming from the mare who originally showed up out of history talking like some well-to-do noblemare from modern day foal’s ponytales!”  Celestia nodded glumly. “Yes, there does need to be some reform. And I’m afraid you might be the one to do it.” “Why, because you’re off getting a spa day? I mean, your disguise might fool others but I know I saw you going around with Fleur yesterday.” “She was acting on behalf of Fancy Pants, mainly just to try and get me to relax since you’re being forced to shoulder everything.” “It’s only temporary until the nobility stop being idiots with this whole impeachment nonsense.” But Celestia shook her head. “I’m afraid there is a very real chance they’ll ride this one to the end, sister.” Weirdly, Luna then laughed. “What’s so funny, Lulu?” “If there was any remaining doubt that you were Sunset’s true mother, even if not biologically, you’ve just obliterated it. After all, she and Twilight couldn’t have learned to stress out so much from Cadance and I’ve only just come back from my millenia long imprisonment on the moon.” Celestia couldn’t help but smile. “I suppose you’re right.” She then sighed, adding “But stressing is all I can really do, here. After all, most of my life I’ve been the one having to lead Equestria, if I am forced to abdicate...what’s left for me? Maybe the time has come for me to join Mother in the final ascension and—" “Oh for your sake, it’s not the end of the world if you get impeached. We already know the end of the world is when you get all depressed and nearly freeze everypony death because Sunset died and last I checked she resurrected alive and well so you don’t even have that excuse this time.” Stepping down from the dais, Luna put a hoof on her elder sister’s wither. “Plus, even if I have to take over, it gives you the chance to be somepony that neither of us ever really got to be: Ourselves. Or, rather, yourself, since as you said almost your entire life you’ve been in charge of this country. And if you have to step down, would you rather be able to finally live life or end up having to live at Silver Shoals Retirement Home for the rest of eternity?” In a command operations room at Agency HQ, Bon-Bon angrily adjusted her shirt collar. “I don’t believe this,” she spat. “I remember Candyshoppe from when she was just a wet-behind-the-ears rookie, and now she’s going to be the Regional Director for Manehattan?” Blueblood looked at his now-out-of-retirement subordinate. “What do you want me to do? She’s the only one in the Manehattan office that wasn’t arrested for being part of this Sombra cult and she’s got important experience regarding the illegal starcrystal trade going on in the Manehattan underground—" “Well, maybe that info is useless to us,” Smokechaser grunted. “Did you say something?” Bon-Bon looked at the other stallion, but he nodded. “Look, let’s be honest: having somepony with experience with illegal trade is nice an’ all, but what does it do for the Manehattan office? The Agency is an intelligence and operations organization—we’re not cops. You ask me, that Candyshoppe gal is probably better off in the Solar Guard’s local garrison, and we can install a senior agent in Manehattan who can do some good!” He went over to Blueblood’s desk and pulled a report off it. “Maybe then we can find the 4000-something ponies that are still missing and suspected of being absconded by changelings or Inari, or whatever!” Blueblood bristled. “The Inari claim they have nothing to do with the missing ponies.” “Funny then that the missing ponies are all young mares of marriageable age, and Manehattan is a known popular tourist attraction for Inariese,” Smokechaser shot back. “It was even in their Top Ten Equestrian Destinations for Night Adventures!” “I….” He sighed. “I didn’t know that.” “Yes, because that’s called gathering intelligence.” “Smoke, that’s enough,” Bon-Bon told him. But she then turned to Blueblood and added, “But he’s right, you know. The Agency has been spread so thin that what exactly The Agency is supposed to be now is in question even to ponies working for it. And ponies without a purpose, well...Cutie Mark Failure Insanity Syndrome is very much a thing.” “Not to mention you yourself have been getting a little too involved as well, Director,” added Smoke, ignoring Bon-Bon’s suggestion. “After all, even though it worked out, you very nearly died the fool you pretend to be with the whole shitshow that dragged Archmagus Beryl into your investigation into the illegal animal trade. And then you had to be the lawyer for that absolute mockery of justice where you pissed yourself when you realized that maybe awakening the inheritor of Sombra’s power was a bad idea.” “Yes, I overstepped, but everything is fine between me and the archmagus now—and her bird Heliodor—and I’ve backed down from being involv—" “And you personally inserted yourself into Operation: Lost Chord when there was no reason for somepony of your seniority or even status as an Agency pony to be involved in a counterinsurgency strike!” “I had my reasons, Smokey.” “I’m sure you did, but let's be fair: the Agency should have caught this well before anything went down. For Celestia’s sake, the armed forces are running around in circles trying to catch The Empty!” “The who?” “Exactly!” the older stallion thundered. “You’re so distracted that you don’t even know about the insider who sold out the defenses of Castle Canterlot that led to the whole disaster that was the Coronation Ball!” Blu rubbed his temples. “Yeah, yeah, I get you. It’s just...it’s been a long day and maybe I just still need to recuperate a bit more from that operation. In the meanwhile, give me a list of potential candidates for our overseas directorates.” “That’s an even worse suggestion than having the local directorates covered by ponies not ready for it yet,” Bon-Bon commented. “Perhaps, but we know those stationed abroad aren’t likely to have been secret Covenant members and they’re likely to be able to step into leadership roles.” He rubbed his head and sighed. “Look, we’ll talk about this tomorrow, okay? See you then.” And without further ado he quickly teleported away. “You know why he’s like this, right?” asked Bon-Bon. “Oh yeah, he’s too focused on that human mare. That was, after all, the actual reason he went on the operation instead of sending somepony currently qualified like you or me.” Bon-Bon laughed. “We’re currently qualified?” Smoke gave her a grin. “We’ve been in the field a lot more than he has, right? But even discounting that, he’s been so preoccupied with trying to make the Agency do Guard level work that the actual intelligence operations are suffering.” “I think we need to set up a meeting with Arrowswift as soon as possible. The Guard’s stretched thin right now, but a functioning Agency could have nipped this insurrection in the bud. We can’t carry the Guard’s water for them anymore.” “Yeah, I hear that, mare, I hear that. Go ahead and set one up. I’ll set up a meeting with Princess Luna and make some subtle suggestions that in addition to new Agency recruits, the Guard’s going to need some as well.” “Sounds like a plan, then,” Bon-Bon said with a grin. “Yeah...but it’s one lovercolt over there should have come up with, not me. And that’s the biggest worry of all,” Smoke admitted. Rap rap rap “Tavi?” asked Sunset. Rap rap rap “Tavi, it’s us, open up please?” In the guest wing of Castle Canterlot, Sunset’s immediate family was gathered. Twily stood off to the side, unsure what to really do to help, while on the other side of the hall Night held his wife Velvet in a side-embrace. The triplets (Sonata having since been released from the castle’s medical wing with minotaur crutches retooled for human use and her leg in a cast already bearing messages of well being from her friends and family) instinctively positioned themselves to provide any necessary protection should there be an attack, but this was obviously not required and more the trio trying to keep their mind off the situation. And Spike—having pretty much gorged himself on near endless amounts of video games—had been dragged along and his desire to just go back to doing that was mixed with his own familiar urges to be there for his cousin. “Are you sure that you don’t just want to tell us what happened?” asked Night as he turned to the triplets. “Like I told you earlier, Uncle Night” replied Adagio, “it would be better for Tavi to tell you.” “I’m assuming it isn’t something like a drug addiction,” said Twilight, “but is it really necessary to keep us all in the dark like this?” “I can understand the rationale,” said Sunset, facing her family, but specifically Twilight. “After all, ultimately would you have preferred that I tell you, Twily, that I was actually a refugee from another dimension, and not everybody else having to tell you when I was busy fighting the actual human Sunset Shimmer who was possessed by a demon?” “It might have avoided some drama, yes,” Twily said, clearly still embarrassed at having gone full Bitch Mode (since dubbed “Twily-nanas”) in the old timeline. “And how well would you have handled that?” Twilight nodded. “You have a point.” “To be fair,” piped up Spike as he shrugged, “it’s not like it was obvious at a glance that Sunny’s a weird horse alien.” “Don’t talk about your sister like that,” chastised Velvet. “What, she suddenly isn’t a character from Filly Funtasia?” “And how would you know that?” teased Twily. “Hey, I’m not the one who watches it—that’s Featherweight!” “Twily, stop teasing your brother,” said Night. At that moment, Sunset walked back from the sealed door, eyes full of anguish. “She’s not responding.” “Ugh, this is getting absurd,” said Aria, who then walked over to the door blocking them all from Tavi. “Look, Tavi, we can’t keep hiding the truth, here. One way or another you’re going to need to let everybody else know.” “We already know you’re making this worse than it is,” said Twilight, approaching the door. “Tavi, let’s be honest: You know that if they actually wanted to, the triplets could simply pick this door’s lock because it’s not magically enchanted. Sunny could magically undo the lock, or make the door vanish, or make this whole wall vanish.” “Or just teleport her out here,” Spike said testily. “Not helping,” Adagio hissed back. Twilight ignored the banter. “But you know they aren’t doing that because they, along with the rest of us, care. Whatever this is, after everything we’ve been through...you know deep down we can handle it, Tavi.” After that, nobody else quite knew what to follow up with, though there still was no answer from the occupant within. However, suddenly the lock in the door handle’s tumbler disengaged with an audible click. Knowing that was the closest thing they’d get to an invitation, Sunset reached for the handle and turned it, hearing footsteps rapidly retreat from the door on the other side. The family entered to find Octavia sitting up in bed, the sheets pulled up to her waist. Sunset wasn’t sure what the drama had been all about. At a glance, Tavi looked fine—albeit miserable, if her swollen eyes were anything to go by. Something was wrong that wasn’t readily apparent, and it made Sunset uneasy. If the rest of her family felt the same way, they didn’t show it. They just looked at Tavi with clear relief on their faces. Twily immediately went to her and awkwardly leaned over the bed to pull her cousin into a hug. “I’m so glad you’re okay,” she said as the rest of the family gathered around them. But one look at Octavia’s face made it clear that she was not okay. “Tavi, what’s wrong?” asked Velvet, sitting at the edge of the bed and brushing aside her beloved niece’s hair, clearing the view to her broken eyes. Octavia sat up straighter, still clutching the bedsheets close. It took her some time and a few false starts before she was able to croak out, “S-something happened. Melody came back, and….” The rest of them just waited patiently for her to find the words to continue, all the while the cold pit of fear in Sunset’s chest grew. “Guess I have to just show you and get it over with,” Tavi said. “Just…promise me you won’t freak out, okay?” Night took her hand in his and gave it a little squeeze. “Promise.” With a sigh of resignation, Tavi tossed aside the bedsheets to reveal the rest of her. To his credit, Night made good on his word, but even he couldn’t stop the hitch in his breath when he saw what had become of his niece from the waist down. Velvet shot a hand to her mouth, cutting off the gasp before she could get all of it out. Only Spike was able to find the words for what they were all thinking. “Holy shit…” he muttered almost unconsciously, and Twily whapped him in the arm for good measure. “I know. Hideous, isn’t it?” Tavi said. At that, Twily hugged her again twice as hard. “It doesn’t matter,” she said, her voice starting to break. “You’re here. You’re in one piece!”  “Only half.” “So? Whatever magic did this to you, Sunny can fix it!” Twily then turned to Sunny, looking expectantly at her goddess of a sister. That enthusiasm died the instant her eyes met Sunset’s. The hooves, the tail, the gray fur...all of that could be achieved with a simple—albeit powerful—transfiguration spell. The rub was the cutie mark: the purple treble clef adorning Tavi’s flanks was no mere illusion. It was a very real manifestation of her special talent—her destiny—the likes of which could only be born of ponies. “I...I don’t think I can,” said Sunset, who conjured up a quick Identify spell to confirm what she already knew. “This kind of magic isn’t like anything I’ve ever messed with...it’s quite frankly radical and by all rights should be unstable. If my guess is right, you shouldn’t even be alive.” She then looked at Tavi, adding “I’m assuming Razz already said something along those lines?” Tavi nodded sadly. “She says it’s irreversible, though I don’t remember the specifics.” Sunset clenched her fists, determination to solve this regardless of how impossible it seemed filling her. “Tell me how this happened. In detail.” So Tavi told her family everything that had happened to her since being captured by the Covenant. Her imprisonment alongside Lockbox and Raspberry Beryl. The Covenant’s torment as they believed they’d gotten her by accident. The alicorn amulet attaching itself to her seemingly of its own accord, and hearing Melody’s voice again. Learning the truth that she, or Melody, or both of them were the fourth Scion of Sombra. Then finally, her agonizing transformation, interrupted halfway through when the Covenant’s Oracle ripped the amulet away from her. “Melody said something else, too,” Tavi said, looking uneasily towards Sunset. “She said that you’re the one who brought her to life.” “Okay, well that’s a load of bull,” Sonata said. “Obviously that bitch was lying.” “Yeah, Sunny would never do that to you,” Twily said, looking at her sister for affirmation and finding none. “You wouldn’t do that, right?” “Not intentionally, but…” Sunset muttered, her synapses firing on all cylinders as the picture of events they painted in her head grew clearer and clearer. “Tavi, you first started to notice something was wrong sometime after the Vibe incident earlier in the year, right?” Tavi nodded. “I thought it was just a lingering effect of the drug then, but yes. That is around the time I first started hearing her voice.” “Then it was my fault,” Sunset said, horror dawning on her as she realized the ramifications of her actions from a year ago. “Sunset, you’re not making any sense,” Velvet said.  “I used Equestrian magic to try and purge Tavi of any traces of The Vibe,” said Sunset. “It was really bad and I didn’t know if we had time to get her to a hospital since it might have been an overdose, so I...channeled a cleansing spell through her body. It seemed to have worked with no ill effect so I never thought twice about it….” Octavia looked at her cousin with a shocked look of betrayal. “You...used magic on me? Without telling me?” The two looked like a reversal of the situation, with the now-stunned face on Octavia and the heartbroken one on Sunset. The family, watching all this, knew that they were at a precipice, and it didn’t take Velvet’s degree in psychology to know that the musician was going to lash out soon. “Tavi….” Velvet said softly. “No one is at fault here. Not you, not Sunny. She was trying to help you and there was no way to know that this…“Melody”...was a separate entity entirely and not DID. You hadn’t even been mistakenly diagnosed with that, yet.” She walked over to the two and embraced them. “You both did the best you could under impossible odds, and there is no shame to be had.” Night, ever the other parent, agreed. “It’s just as likely that Melody is lying about Sunset’s role in this too. If you recall, her entire MO since she appeared was to create a rift between you and Sunset—the only person at the time who would have been capable of stopping her.” “Tavi, I can’t pretend to know what you were going through,” Twilight added, “but I know that you were the one to talk me out of my anger with Sunset a couple of months ago. She’s not to blame.” Octavia, nestled in Velvet’s embrace, looked at the heartbroken visage of Sunset. Moving slightly, she assured her, “I know my sister would never want to harm me.” “But Melody—" “I meant my real one,” Tavi answered. “Not some tormentor whose genes I have.” As if an unspoken queue, the others present eventually fell into a group hug, giving support and love for the two girls in the center of the emotional maelstrom. However, Sonata, due to her injuries, and Spike, being too young to really understand it all, stood back. “Ick. I hate hugs,” he groaned, only to be grabbed from behind by Sonata. “You’ll learn, kid,” she said, happy tears sliding down her cheeks at this beautiful family moment. “Let me go already! Fine, I’ll learn later!” The passage of time in the dungeons of Castle Canterlot was fickle—given the subterranean nature, there obviously were no actual windows leading to the outside. However, to alleviate the psychological problems that would come with being trapped underground for so long, each cell had a magical window installed to simulate the time of day. The problem was that these required regular upkeep and with the dungeons usually not occupied to full capacity, this maintenance was ignored for the most part. It was not uncommon to have two or more adjacent cells whose magical windows showed completely different times of day. None of that really mattered to Crisalide, who simply spent the time either lying on her bed or leaning up against the wall. All she wanted was to die, to be free of the walking nightmare she’d been forced to live for time immemorial. The guards, most of whom were still skeptical this was even the former queen of the changelings, were appreciative of her silence. She caused them no trouble, so they didn’t give her any in turn. They gave her cell a wide berth, all the same. But Crisalide was still cognisant enough of their presence that when a pony that was distinctly not wearing standard-issue Guard armor walked past, she immediately took notice. The pony in question, she could sense, seemed mildly irritated about whatever it was they were doing...and then Crisalide recognized their outfit as that of the dungeon’s warden. Crisalide had met the warden exactly once, as she was being processed after her arrival here. The warden paid Crisalide no heed, instead proceeding further down the hall. Curiously, he had a package with him. That seemed unusual to Crisalide, as no one tended to give prisoners gifts out of the blue and any regular supplies were brought to them without fanfare of any sort, practically just shoved in their direction. To have a package wrapped up, unopened and brought by the warden instead of some garden-variety guardspony was...unusual, to say the least. She got close to the bars and tried to listen to whomever the warden was there to see, but they were too far down the hall for even Crisalide to hear once the hoofsteps faded out. But she remained there, listening. She had nothing else to do, after all. But then five minutes later, the hoofsteps came back, and Crisalide quickly made herself look like she’d been before: ignorant of the world outside her bars. The warden walked past, at a slightly faster pace than before, though Chrysalis noted that the package he was carrying looked lighter. Another fifteen minutes after that, another pony came down...wearing a completely different uniform. Once again Crisalide faked obliviousness as she discreetly studied this newcomer—a skill she’d mastered while she was Sombra’s slave—the uniform this new pony was wearing was one she’d seen before on board the airship that brought her back to Canterlot. It was the uniform of an Equestrian naval commander. More concerning, Crisalide realized that she recognized the pony wearing the uniform as one of her acolytes: not as Crisalide, but as Tiny Dynamine. Now just what are you up to? And she figured she wouldn’t be getting any answers while she was stuck in this cell. The idea that next came to her then made her wonder just how gullible the guards were in this hole in the ground. Walking down row after row of prison cells in Canterlot Castle’s dungeon with the package in hoof, Redeye did what she did best: blend in like she belonged. Having assumed the form of the dungeon’s warden, Redeye barely acknowledged the salutes of the other guards with a nod. Getting to the prison warden and giving him coffee spiked with a sleeping potion hadn’t been hard. The substance was untraceable; he would wake up in a few hours thinking he’d only dozed off on the job, and any reports that he’d been down in the lower levels of the dungeons during that time would be written off as a mistake. These ponies never learn…. Although most of the cells on this level were empty, Redeye did pass by one that drew her curiosity. What appeared to be one of the humans that had been making such a splash recently sat forlorn in one of the cells, wearing only a tattered dress. What drew Redeye’s curiosity was that she seemed to be part changeling. What was more, Redeye almost found herself drawn to her the way she used to be drawn to the hivemind and her old queen. Redeye pushed the sensation away and continued on without breaking her gait. She had a new queen now, and she intended to carry out this latest order without fail. She eventually came to a cell holding a felt-green pegasus mare, who also seemed to have changeling chitin grafted to her wings. The amount of chains and hobbles attached to this individual indicated to Redeye that she was dangerous, and perhaps even useful...but it was not who Redeye was looking for. Finally, Redeye reached a cell holding the individual whose description she had been given. A beige-coated stallion with an unshaven face covered in scars and a particularly grimy looking mustache lay on his back on the cot in his cell. His face looked like several miles of bad road, but he seemed unconcerned, cheerfully humming to himself. He stopped once he noticed he had company. “Well, look at who decided to come down to our level!” the stallion exclaimed in a coarse voice like mixed gravel. “Is swinging that big dick of yours around with your subordinates not enough now?”    Rolling her eyes, Redeye muttered, “You’re exactly as charming as I heard you are.” She then said more clearly, “It’s Barkeep, right?” “Yup! Say warden, why did you decide to become an authority figure?” Barkeep asked, his shit-eating grin lifting his mustache. “Could it be because you’re totally inadequate?” Having no patience to exchange barbs with this psycho, Redeye wasted no time reciting the words that Highfalutin’ had given her. “Find solace in the shadows.” Barkeep’s brow immediately furrowed. “The…sun makes them long and plentiful. Huh. Didn’t know you were with us.” Redeye wondered whether that was as close to an apology as this pony was capable of giving. She didn’t care either way. “I bring news from our headquarters: the resurrection ceremony was a success. Our true king walks Equestria once more.”                                                                                “I knew it! I knew the rumors of the Covenant’s end were a lie!” Redeye saw Barkeep’s face light up with zealous joy. “I’ve always told ponies to keep their faith, but do they ever listen?” he said with a giddy laugh. “Indeed,” Redeye said, unlocking the cell. “Canterlot is still under the control of the alicorns, but King Sombra has a plan in place to take it. And it involves you.” Redeye didn’t think the disheveled pony in front of her could possibly look any happier, but he was full of surprises. “So my faith hasn’t gone unnoticed?” Barkeep asked, his coarse voice filling with hope. “No,” answered Redeye. “And once you carry out this job for him, your faith will be rewarded.” With a clean, quick death, Redeye thought to herself. If you even manage to make it out of the castle afterwards. “So, how may I serve our king?” Barkeep asked, his very being filled with reverence.  Redeye gave him the box that she had brought with her. “King Sombra is planning a massive coordinated assassination of the entire military command structure of Equestria. The information on your target is in there, along with the uniform you’ll need to get close to her.” Barkeep tore into the box like a foal on Hearth’s Warming, and studied the picture of Adm. Tumblehome briefly before pulling out the Equestrian naval officer’s uniform. “When you’re finished, fall back to the warehouse at 65 Maple Lane. I will meet you there,” Redeye said, adding mentally, And all that the Equestrian authorities will find there is your corpse. Barkeep looked up at the “warden” with a hard, determined expression. “I will fulfill my duty to our king or die trying!” “Yes,” Redeye said. “You will.” In the medical wing, an anxious Sunset waited for her friends to catch up. The family hug had been suddenly interrupted by Coco, who had arrived to tell her that Pinkie had finally begun to stir. Sunset, moving on automatic, had immediately teleported here, and it had dawned on her that she hadn’t even considered bringing the others. Knowing she wasn’t sure of her mental state at the moment, rounded up some guards and pages and told them to roust the others and bring them here immediately.   A few minutes later came the thunder of running, broken by the occasional shouts from medical staff to slow down and please respect the rules. A minute later, all of them had appeared, the last of which were Tavi and Soni, who had been carted in by both Aria and Adagio, who had thought to steal rolling carts and seated both on them. “She hasn’t come to yet,” said Rarity, as she approached the bed. “At least the color’s back in her face. That’s a healthy sign, if nothing else.” Only nodding in response, Sunset moved to the medical bed’s side and grasped the bedridden girl’s left hand in her own. “C’mon, Pinkie, come back to me....” she voiced, unaware of her own words. Rarity, however, had caught them and covered for her friend’s sake. “Come back to us, Pinkie dear,” she added, placing her own hand atop the two. The others hung back, waiting for a miracle—both for Pinkie’s sake and for Sunset’s. Slowly, surely, the eyelids began to unfurl like a flower reaching out to the first rays of the sun. And eventually, blue eyes opened to the world.  The first thing Pinkie saw when she opened her eyes were teary eyes of cyan. Eyes, she knew, held worry, but held something else, too. And for now, that was enough. Pinkie smiled and gingerly reached a hand up to Sunset’s tear-stained face. “Hiya, Sunny,” she said in a weak voice. “I’m okay. I think. I’ll get back to you later on that one, okay?” “H-hey, Pinkie, glad you’re back with us.” “Yeah, I am too,” said Pinkie, who started to laugh but then started coughing. “Easy, easy,” said Sunset, still holding onto Pinkie’s hand. “You got stabbed in the heart twice and lost a lot of blood. You’re lucky to even be alive!” “I can believe it,” said Pinkie between coughs. “I had the absolute weirdest dream...also, your grandmother says hi.” “Should’ve guessed,” Adagio said from behind the group. “Guardian angel and all that.” “Don’t you mean a goddess?” Aria drolled. “Apples and oranges, sis,” she replied, giving an apologetic look to Applejack, who hadn’t noticed and instead, like the rest, noticed the involuntary acts of intimacy between Pinkie and Sunset. “Rather blatant, aren’t they?” she commented to no one in particular. “Hey, they got a bed there,” Rainbow teased, “and one—" her words were cut off by Applejack thumping her on the head. “Be nice,” the blonde warned. Fluttershy giggled. “Beat me to it,” she confessed. Around a table in the primary Guard barracks within Canterlot Castle, a discussion involving the guards was going in a much different direction. “You’re pulling back on Agency support for the Guard?” exclaimed Arrowswift, shocked. “Well, it’s nothing official quite yet,” admitted Smokechaser, “but….” “The fact is, all branches of service are going to need both heavy reorganization and massive recruitment in the wake of what’s happened,” interjected Bon-Bon, “and with that in mind, we can’t let the Agency continue to manage the more basic functions that the Guard is charged with enforcing.” “Shining is not going to like this,” sighed Arrowswift, “but at the same time, if none of this has been signed off by the director, then why are we even discussing it?” “Because the director has empowered us to look into the situation and what we could do to improve everything,” Smoke replied. Bon-Bon looked at the Guardspony. “Look, the truth of the matter is, for too long the Agency has been distracted by minor local matters. In the process we’ve lost sight of what The Agency is supposed to be. Though the reasons are well-intentioned, it does no good if we end up with a situation like the one we just went through. It’s time to stop playing nice. The Agency needs to become the Tantabus in the night that makes these illicit underground threats think twice about pulling shit like the Coronation attack—that was The Agency’s disaster to stop and we dropped the ball hard.” “But you were retired,” pointed out Arrowswift. “Both of you, as I recall.” “And I still am more capable than most of the ponies we have in the field right now! Just because they are Goody Twohorsehoes doesn’t mean they have the talent or skill to follow up on this stuff. We need field agents, not Guardsponies with glorified job descriptions. Er, no offense.” “Hey, none taken,” said Arrowswift with a shrug. “If you’re offloading, the Guard sure as heck needs more bodies. There are a lot of disillusioned ponies in our ranks as we’re finding out and while the unrest following the Ball has settled, there aren’t exactly a whole lot of ponies lining up to defend a government they’ve lost faith in.” “Which is why I think we need to start looking at ponies who have reasons other than simply protecting Crown and Country to work for the Agency,” said Smokechaser. “Anything will do, so much as we know they aren’t going to sell us out. We’ve already seen where loyalty gets us, with all due respects to Lady Rainbow.” “You want me to start looking into, ah, less savory candidates?” asked Bon-Bon, eyebrow raised. “Like you said, we need to stop being the nice mares and stallions—why then should we limit our ranks to them?” “Anypony!” A shout could be heard from the dungeons, the voice urgent and panicked. “CAN ANYPONY HEAR ME?!” Immediately, Tpr. Slack Wit was on the scene, racing toward wherever the voice was coming from. He of course was not happy to see that it was coming from the cell of the “freak” as the guards had deemed the creature that supposedly was Chrysalis. Only Chrysalis wasn’t in the cell.  “You there!” the guardpony in the cell shouted, “Let me out! There’s a dangerous maniac on the loose!” “Who exactly are you?” Wit asked, not piecing the obvious together. “Pvt. Umptyscrunch, I just got transferred to dungeon duty and the first thing the captain told me to do was to check on the freak. She looked dead when I got here so I opened the cell to check—the bitch knocked me out and is probably running around as me!” Slack Wit raised an eyebrow. “Wait, she can do tha—" “Are you stupid? Freak or not, she’s with the changelings, so of course she can do that!” Umptyscrunch shouted. “So what are you still standing around for?! Let me out so we can go after her!” “Y-yes, right away!” The witless trooper had the cell opened immediately. “Right, which way did she-URK!” No sooner had the cell been unlocked and Wit’s back be turned, then did “Pvt. Umptyscrunch” promptly tackle Slack Wit, drag him into the cell, and turned into him.  “Idiot,” said Crisalide under her breath, quickly shutting the cell behind her and making sure nopony else was around. She then took a moment to smile, having too easily freed herself. Now she could at least get away from these insufferable ponies and maybe find a way to kill herself in peace. “Maybe the Frozen North, where I should have died ages ago. Now that the hivemind can’t get to me I can finally….” Then it hit her: Before she had left, Raspberry Beryl had said something about it never being too late for Crisalide to start being better and this whole escape idea had been originally to see what that fake naval pony was up to. And the fact was, whatever he was up to couldn’t be good. That was why she’d originally approved letting him into the Covenant in the first place—the kind of chaos that followed that pony around rivaled that of Discord himself. And thus it was Crisalide’s doing that indirectly would lead to more of it; more pain and suffering. No, this isn’t my problem, Crisalide rationalized as she started making her way to the upper levels, resolving to find the nearest exit as quickly as possible. I didn’t create that maniac. He would have gone on to hurt people regardless of what I did—he gets off on that sort of thing. Striding confidently through the halls of the castle, Celestia knew exactly what she was going to do to that uptight featherduster of a pegasus. Mess with my loved ones, will you? she thought, bringing forth all of her bearing as an administrator. While she was widely regarded as impish and possibly immature for being over the hill, Celestia had not gotten to where she was by letting trouble in her domain go lightly. The one exception had always been Sunset Shimmer, but even at her worst she could be brought to heel. Regardless, it had worked out with Sunset and she’d been a model of redemption and now one of the prized students of the Greater Canterlot Unified School District. Tumblehome, on the other hand, was none of those things and the opportunity to offload a lot of built up steam was too much for Celestia to pass up. Oh, she knew Sable would have things to say about it, but no doubt he would let it slide given his own grievances. So bursting open the door, Celestia strode up to the desk where the admiral’s apparent secretary was seated, reading some trashy magazine and looking for all the world that she didn’t want to be there. “I’m here to see Tumblehome,” Celestia said with easy authority. The secretary looked up, momentarily alarmed, before apparently realizing the one speaking to her was not, in fact, the princess. As soon as she realized she was only speaking to a human, the secretary’s demeanor immediately changed, taking on the utterly apathetic demeanor of someone almost at the end of a long shift. “Uh…I’m sorry, but the admiral is in a meeting with one of our commanders,” the secretary said, still clearly shaking cobwebs from her head. “Right, of course...being the admiral of a fleet must be a busy job,” Celestia said, giving the pony behind the desk a grin. “But we both know Tumblehome isn’t the admiral in charge anymore, now don’t we?”  “Well, technically…” the secretary pony started, but Celestia wasn’t interested. The source of her anguish was right on the other side of the next door and she would not be denied! So Celestia stormed right past the secretary’s desk and threw open the doors, ignoring the secretary’s token protests. She spotted the admiral’s large oaken desk and high-backed chair, evidently staring out the window. As Celestia suspected, there was no naval commander meeting with her, and the secretary, apparently giving up on keeping Celestia out, just went right back to reading her magazine, muttering about how the admiral was going to be gone soon anyway. “Adm. Tumblehome,” she said, addressing the back of her chair, “You and I need to have some words.” No response. “Don’t think you’re getting out of this simply by ignoring me,” continued Celestia, marching across the room to the edge of the desk. No response. “Are you listening?” Angrily, Celestia reached over and shoved the chair around—and immediately regretted it. Adm. Tumblehome was sitting in the chair...but she was very, very dead. Her head slumped looking down, the massive bloodstain under her neck told the whole story. The grim image was completed by a knocked-over framed photo of Tumblehome smiling in the arms of a stallion with a foal between them. “Well well, this sure is a surprise,” said a coarse male voice from behind her. Her heart suddenly racing, Celestia whirled around just in time to see a pony slam the door with a hind leg.  The stallion regarded her with wild dark eyes, and his unkempt hair and bad mustache were ill-fitting to the naval officer’s uniform he was wearing. “I really thought that secretary would be the first one to come in here, but I don’t think she even noticed anything’s wrong yet.” The stallion then let out a harsh laugh. “Ah, the apathy of youth. You’ve gotta love it!” “Y-you...you killed her…” Celestia muttered, her brain still processing the immense danger she was now in. The stallion was holding a blood-soaked knife in his right foreleg, and she couldn’t take her eyes off it. “Aww...you’re disappointed, aren’t you?” the unkempt stallion asked with a grin. “Clearly you had some issues to work out with the late admiral. Lucky for you, we’re going to be spending some quality time together and I have plenty of experience listening to ponies talk about their problems.”  The stallion then started walking across the office towards Celestia, waving the bloody knife around as he spoke. Celestia kept her gaze fixed on the knife as she felt around the dead admiral’s desk for something to defend herself with. “You wouldn’t believe how many ponies treat their barkeep as their personal therapist. ‘Waaaah, my wife is leaving me and she’s taking the foals!’ ‘My boyfriend told me he’s gay!’ ‘I’m trapped in a loveless marriage with a mare I hate because I couldn’t take the extra time to put on a rubber!’ Wah wah wah wah WAH WAH WAH!” Her fingers wrapped around a small statue of a saluting pony and swiftly brought it to bear against the side of the crazy pony’s head. With a shout and a curse, the stallion staggered to the side and Celestia darted past him straight for the door. She turned the knob and pushed against it with all her might...but in her panic, forgot she needed to pull it open. A pair of arms (or forelegs, Celestia realized) wrapped around her waist and Celestia felt herself being pulled back. But she kept her grip on the door knob and managed to pull the door open while she held on for dear life.  “HELP!” Celestia screamed at the top of her lungs, and felt a moment of relief when the secretary outside leaned over her desk to see what the commotion was about, her usual look of apathy actually displaying concern. “HELP!” Celestia cried again. “HE KILLED—” That was all Celestia could get out before something hard thumped her on the back of the head. Celestia’s grip loosed on the door and she was dragged down to the floor of the dead admiral’s office, her head throbbing. The crazy stallion stood over her, looking briefly out the open door to the retreating form of the secretary. Celestia screamed again for good measure and the stallion immediately held the knife up to her throat. “See now, you really don’t wanna do that,” he said. “This knife is coated in a fast-acting poison. One good cut took the admiral seconds to die. Now, I don’t know why the good admiral had this in her desk, but it sure came in handy!” Despite the insane pony’s unsettlingly chipper attitude, Celestia could see a bit of worry in his eyes—it was only a matter of time before that secretary called in the guards—and it made Celestia herself worried.  “So what now?” Celestia asked, somehow managing to sound far more calm than she felt. “You’re not going to walk out of here.” “Not anymore, thanks to you!” the stallion said. “I just needed you—or preferably, that cute l’il secretary—to walk me out of here with a nice big smile, but your little stunt quite effectively ruined that plan. Now,” the stallion said with a big smile of his own. “I genuinely don’t know if either of us will make it out of here alive!” The stallion then pulled Celestia to her feet and then got up on his hindlegs behind her, one foreleg on her back and the other reaching around to hold the poisoned knife to her gut. “But I have faith things will work out!”