//------------------------------// // Replacer (Part 4, a conclusion) // Story: The League of Sweetie Belles // by GMBlackjack //------------------------------// The first thing Blink realized was that she had no restraints. Instinctually, she became invisible, preparing to run—but then the rest of her memories caught up with her. Slowly, she looked to the jail cell of Deep Space Nine. Within there was another Blink: restrained, encased in magic, and looking at her with horror. Blink checked her hoof. The number 9 was easily visible on it. Well. This is… surreal and horrifying in a way I can’t even begin to explain. She made herself visible, dusting off her hooves awkwardly. “Sooooooo I’m not real.” “You are,” Celia said. “You’re just Cinder.” “Checking in… checking in…” Blink tapped the rose in her mane and showed off the number. “Yeah, no, that’s not how this feels at all. I’m still me. Still… ready to look at the rest of my life behind bars. Yippee.” “Look…” Celia frowned. “I could force you to go deal with the Beyonders, or you could just deal with them willingly.” “ ‘Blink’s Last Mission…’ “ Blink scratched her chin. “Has a nice ring to it.” “Just go,” the other Blink said from her prison. “Make what we were forced to do mean something.” Blink found it decidedly uncomfortable to hear her own voice. Someone who really knew. “Right, right, I’m going, I’m going. I am going to need a briefing, though.” “No time,” Celia said, tapping her horn to Blink’s. Suddenly, Blink knew everything she did about the Beyonders, the Infinity Train, and how Cinder’s abilities worked. Which meant she understood exactly how she was going to be nothing more than a distant memory in Cinder’s mind when this was all over. She put on a smile. “How horrifying!” Celia frowned. “It’s not my first choice either, but we can only send her. Now go.” She pulled out a dimensional device and pointed it at Blink. Instead of opening a portal to the Infinity Train, which wasn’t allowed because of how the Train worked and what the Beyonders had done, it transported Blink directly to the Train. She instinctively hid herself before she even got a look at her surroundings. This was a good move, because otherwise the Beyonders would have burnt her to an absolute crisp. As it was, they simply didn’t notice her. She still had to run, though. Their impossible blue-mesh ships were unleashing everything they had at the Train, blowing up cars left and right. But it was the Infinity Train… losing one car or two did seemingly nothing to its overall integrity. As entire mini-universes were reduced to blue sludge, the train continually recombined itself, charging across the endless wasteland. Far above, the interdimensional vortex continued to encase Beyonder ships in tentacles of energy, preventing the Beyonders from so much as touching the natural physics of the unnatural universe the Train resided within. Blink had to amplify her Void abilities to the maximum just to avoid reality shockwaves from tearing her apart—and even then she had to dodge so she didn’t accidentally fall into another universe. The Beyonders were punching left and right with their weapons, throwing anything and everything in all directions, including directions that didn’t exist in traditional three-dimensional space. Blink found herself very thankful that the creators of her abilities, the Horrorterrors, hadn’t skimped on their durability. The Beyonders wouldn’t see her unless they were looking very closely, and they weren’t really looking at all. With a deep breath, Blink ran forward. She jumped over tears in reality, exploding cars, and even one or two cockroach creatures screaming in agony. There was one goal and only one goal in her mind: the front of the Train. When Cinder had left, she hadn’t been very far away from the engine. Now that the Beyonders had been hacking the Train to pieces, there was even less space between Blink and the car. With an honest grin that surprised even Blink herself, she laughed as she jumped from car to car—the engine in her sights. As she approached, it was clear that this was where most of the Beyonders’ attack was focused. Over a dozen ships currently flew alongside the front of the train, shooting it with everything they had. Unlike the normal cars, however, the Engine had some kind of shield protecting it that, so far, hadn’t broken. It also had two guns on the front of it that were shooting greenish energy that vanished into a higher dimension, only to come out at an odd angle and attack a Beyonder ship. Most of the battle was taking place in planes of reality Blink couldn’t even see, but she knew existed. She wasn’t even entirely sure what she could do. The shields of the engine and the Beyonder ships were going to be far too advanced for her to phase into even at maximum Void. But, as luck would have it, at that moment Nanoha leaped out of a hole in space on top of some kind of twisted, eldritch ship of darkness likely from the Embodiment. The ship anchored its reality effectively and unleashed everything it had on the largest Beyonder ship, shredding reality in a much darker and violent manner than the Blue of the Beyonders. Nanoha herself let out a shriek that pierced reality. “STARLIGHT BREAKER!” The nexus of complex, intertwined magical circles focused energy into a single point of rose light that launched forward in a perfectly straight beam, denying the reality-warping abilities of the Beyonders utterly. The attack hit with a brilliant explosive cascade, forcing the Beyonder ship’s shields to drop. Blink wasted no time. She jumped onto the engine’s shields just before one of the easily visible Beyonder weapons hit. The shockwave would have crushed the bones of a non-ghost, but to her, it was just another day of being flattened—though one of her Reality Anchors broke. I wonder what happens if I lose all of those? Does Cinder take control? She flew through the air, slamming flat into the shifting wall of the large Beyonder ship. A moment later, the shields came back up, trapping her within. Close enough. She looked up, noticing that the Embodiment ship had been forced to retreat—it was no match for the power of the Beyonders, and likely had only been there as a delivery vehicle for Nanoha’s attack. Nanoha herself remained for a few seconds afterward, but was eventually hit by an attack that threw her out of the universe. She was fine—the woman had stared Horrorterrors in the face and lived—but she was the best help on offer. Blink really was the last shot. Blink found what looked like it might be the command center and phased into it. As alien as she was, she was still a three-dimensional being. As such, she was not meant to phase through the dimensions contained within the ship. Hallways existed and then didn’t, expanding and contracting to her limited eyes like some kind of respiratory system. Beyonders themselves appeared as sometimes humanoid, sometimes not—rarely with all of their body parts physically connected to one another. But they were always moving among the blue nature of their realm, or wrapped in complex mechanized suits that kept normal reality out. Blink considered sabotage, but she doubted that even if she could manage to destroy this ship that it would do anything to the Beyonders attacking other universes. There had to be something else. A commander, or a reason they were on their conquest. It took some doing, but she eventually figured out how to, more or less, follow Beyonders that were moving in a way at least partially parallel to her own slice of reality. With luck, they led her to a large area that didn’t look like it was continually being cut apart by knives that only left temporary lesions. The room felt… oddly stable. Consistent. And in the center of it all stood a Beyonder in a full mechanized reality suit coated with gold stripes and red dots. Merodi Universalis, and by extension Blink, knew almost nothing about Beyonder command structures besides the fact that they had them. Regardless, it was still easy to tell that this guy had a high rank. The only question was what to do with him. She could try to steal some of his technology… no, no that was dumb. Why was she even thinking about that, now? It wasn’t like anyone would do anything with it. All that effort would be wasted. The irony. An opportunity to obtain Class 1 technology, and she wasn’t able to act on it. Because she wasn’t herself. She wasn’t Blink. She… The Beyonder commander reached out and plucked Blink out of the air. Oh. They probably have better sensors on the bridge. That are always on and looking for things like me. Uh oh. The Beyonder brought Blink closer to him—the area that Blink had identified as a “chest” was apparently his head, or the equivalent of it. Blink dropped the disguise. “Uh, hi. Blink, Merodi Universalis.” “I told your Relations Overhead no more agents.” He spoke with no hint in his “voice” of any alien nature. “I kinda came here without… checking with anyone about anything?” “Then you have declared yourself an enemy.” It paused. “You are Skaian. But you are no god-tier. There is no challenge in battling you.” “Well, you say that, but really there’s a lot more going on here. Heheh.” “You are nothing. I have a battle to win.” He crushed her. At this point she was getting rather used to the agony of being flattened by beings much larger than herself. What she wasn’t used to was the sudden loss of all her Reality Anchors in a reality that definitely didn’t support ghosts. In the core of her being she suddenly felt very hollow. As the Beyonder released her into the air, all she could do was watch as her hooves faded before her eyes. This is it, she thought. I’m still alive, but this me… this me is going. Going to feel what it’s like to fail to exist. Something tickled at the back of her mind, almost like a voice, calling her somewhere. It’ll be interesting, at least. …And what did I leave behind? The legacy of a liar. Why did it have to be that way? Why… why couldn’t I be in a world where people understood the need? How we need to fight, or be eaten ourselves? Here I am, fading away, crushed by the hand of a man who cared nothing for me. Fat lot of good all this did me… She noticed, as her leg became fainter and fainter, that the number on it had changed. 1. When did that happen…? And then she became white. The blob pulsed and twisted, removing the template of Blink from itself in favor of a new one—the form of the Beyonder commander. The blob grew into the multidimensional mech, rising up to match the shifting height of the commander exactly. Neither of them made a move. Neither knew what to do. What could be done? The presence of a Beyonder of high rank demanded a duel, but neither wanted to destroy the ship, not when they were so close to their goal. They were close. They could feel it. Just a little longer… Before any of them could initiate any sort of proper communication, however, Cinder re-exerted control. The form of the mech slowly shrank, getting smaller, smaller, and smaller, until it resolved into a small white mare with piercing orange eyes. She stood on top of the shifting ground beneath her hooves like it was no issue despite her three-dimensional nature. Her number—1—appeared on her hoof. The last thing to generate was the rose in her mane. But it was no longer pixelated. It grew as a brilliant impossibly-red flower that bore itself into the minds of all present. It was a flower of power every Beyonder knew—a flower that no Replacer would have been able to create. Cinder knew this. She knew she was impossible. She knew she was much more than a Replacer. She didn’t understand everything about herself fully yet: but she now knew that wasn’t the point. Not taking her gaze from her hoof, she spoke. “I… understand you. That’s what my gift means. Understanding.” As she spoke these words, the number on her hoof switched from 1 to 0. Despite not being on the Train, a door appeared right behind her—opening right to Swip. Her home. She could have left right then—but she didn’t. She had a job to do. With a cautious motion, she looked up at the tremendous form of the commander. “I understand you, Revan Ichak,” Cinder said. “I was you. I saw everything… and I know your pain.” Ichak reached to grab her. “Would Rizel have wanted this, even before the Train got to him?” Ichak paused at her words. “You know he wouldn’t. He never subscribed to the idea of vengeance. Honor was won through direct confrontation, not vendetta. Vendetta was a weakness to him. The true warrior fought with or without personal conviction. You were his student, and you have forgotten his teachings so easily.” “Rizel was not right about everything.” “No. But you are fighting this Train for him. He wouldn’t have wanted that before, and he doesn’t want it now.” “We can’t stand for this!” Ichak shouted. “This is more than just a vendetta, revenge! The Train took Rizel, and turned him into a pacifist! Such a threat to the Beyonder way of life cannot be tolerated!” Cinder glanced at the doorway the Train had effortlessly created through all the Beyonder’s defenses. “How many Beyonders has it cost to avenge one man’s altered mind?” “That is no—“ “You have given sixty million Beyonders just to take out this Train,” Cinder answered for him. “And you will give sixty million more before this construct falls. This Train… it is the work of some society equal to yours, and one long gone. This was their magnum opus, their gift to the future—a way to keep morality in the multiverse. You can disagree, but you have to understand how strong a dream like that is.” Ichak leaned in, but not aggressively. It was almost… sad. Cinder smiled sadly. “This crusade isn’t worth it. You know full well that once you destroy the Train you’ll have nothing to show for it. The line you’ve cut across the multiverse can’t be maintained, you will have taken little if any actual new territory. And this isn’t me saying this—this is what I saw in you. You’ve known this all along.” Ichak was silent. “Stop this, before you have even more men to mourn. Men who did not die in a glorious battle for the Beyonder Empire—but for a mad quest of vengeance taken against a Train that didn’t even kill him. If you really want Rizel back, go be with him. Don’t try to avenge him.” Slowly, Ichak stood up. He turned forward—to what Cinder knew was a display of the battle, not that she could make any sense of it now that she was a unicorn. Ichak spoke—in both Beyonder and Equid Alpha simultaneously, for Cinder’s benefit. “Order the fleet to stand down. Gather a report of conquered realities, determine what is worth carting back to the Empire, prepare to abandon all else. There is nothing more for us here.” With a grateful nod in his direction, Cinder hopped through the door, flopping onto Swip’s lounge area. “Welcome back,” Swip said with all the fanfare of a bored teenager. Cinder chuckled. “Thanks.” “Did you do it?” “We did. Blink and I.” “Huh. Cool.” Swip’s avatar tilted her head. “Fancy rose.” “It’s there to remind me I’m not done figuring out what I am yet. And also to freak people out with being red.” “Sweet.” Cinder winked. “It really is. Now… I want to see Blink.” “If you really want too…” ~~~ Cinder walked up to the forcefield in front of Blink’s cell. “You won?” Blink asked. “We won.” Blink frowned. “I…” “You were there,” Cinder insisted. “And now you’re in here…” She tapped her head. “All of you.” “All of me?” “All of you. While you were dodging explosions and jumping over train cars… I was learning who you were. Where you started from, where you were going, and why. And… and how much you cared.” She took in a deep breath. “I… I didn’t realize how much pain you were in. I don’t think it was possible for me to… without becoming you.” Blink shook her head. “You didn’t need to be that…” “No, I did. I really did. I needed to walk a mile in your shoes, to be you on every fundamental level. Because now… I can forgive you.” Blink looked up to her in shock. Cinder smiled sadly. “I understand why you did it. And how you thought it… it all made sense. I don’t agree, but I don’t have to. Because I’ve seen how little you agreed with me and Suzie.” She shook her head. “I won’t say what you did was right. But I don’t think I can hate you for it anymore.” “Even Sweetaloo?” “Even Sweetaloo.” Blink let out a bitter laugh. “Then you’re worse off, understanding me.” “You weren’t exaggerating when you spoke with her,” Cinder said. “That was honest. From the heart. You really did hate her. That doesn’t excuse anything. But I’m not sure you could have done the right thing there, not after hiding for so, so long. There’s only so much a mind can take before it snaps.” Blink nodded slowly. “…This might be the last time we see each other,” Cinder said. “And I’m fairly certain this is the end of your story.” Blink sagged. “Locked away for eternity…” “Yeah. I’m sorry. I really am.” Blink looked up to her—and smiled. A real, honest, true smile. “Cinder… I think I understand how you felt, now.” Cinder wiped her eyes, nodding. “Go. Make good use of that gift of yours. Walk a mile in everyone’s shoes. Make sure… nothing like this ever happens again.” “I’ll do my best.” She saluted at Blink. “Goodbye. …My friend.” “Goodbye, Cinder.” ~~~ Deep Space Nine was in the midst of celebration. And why shouldn’t they? The Pah Wraiths had been foiled, the Beyonders turned away from their attack, and the Merodi were on the station without doing all the terrible things they’d been warned about by the rest of the Capra Coalition. New friends were being made, stories were being swapped, and at Quark’s bar business was booming. Cei had to admit, those were all good reasons for celebrating. And, in a way, she wanted to as well. The station was growing into its own. Better than her dreams and wants. Here they were, talking to the Sweeties like equals. But the only reason this was able to happen at all was because the Capra Coalition was collapsing. They’d lost more than just Guild Central. Hexalin was almost completely converted when the Beyonders left, and several smaller worlds had been utterly decimated. There was no way the Coalition would survive this as a cohesive entity. And perhaps that was for the best. “I know it’s hard,” TwilAI said, walking up to Cei’s position at one of the upper tables of Quark’s bar. “But this really was one of the better outcomes. Death tolls were high, but most of the main worlds were left. And even if the Coalition has broken… I think you can agree that it wasn’t a very good force in the multiverse.” “I’m surprised you think that,” Cei said. “CelestAI wants better living through friendship and ponies. This isn’t friendship.” “The Capra Coalition’s model wasn’t friendship either. This way, CelestAI can explore multiple different avenues of friendship and ponies.” She glanced down at the table of Sweeties at the ground floor of Quark’s bar. “Though I don’t appreciate that they’re here.” “I like it,” Cei said. “It’s a recovery from the craziness I was trying to deal with.” TwilAI frowned. “They’re not very trusting of big AI like CelestAI. I’ve seen some of their records. Bad experiences with others has made them untrusting.” “Look, they don't have a big presence here,” Cei said, standing up. “Just don’t deal with them. …But you already knew that.” “I’m more worried about how they will sew distrust among the people. We have worked so hard to be accepted as equals to you… they could undo that.” “I won’t let it.” Cei winked. TwilAI bowed to her. “Thank you. We AI will be in your debt.” “I don’t need anybody in my debt,” Cei said, standing up from her table. “I don’t really want to be much of anything. But I guess I’ve been thrown into this, now.” She tapped her hoof on the ground. “…I think I’ll stay on this station. There’s no more Guild Central, soon to be no more Coalition. This is the closest place I have to home.” TwilAI pulled her into a hug. “Then welcome home, Cei.” “Heh. Thanks.” Cei broke off from the embrace and went down the stairs to mingle with the crowd. Burgerbelle was putting on a show for a group of Klingons, Celia was regaling a few Starfleet officers with daring tales of the multiverse… but, right now, none of those interested Cei. Instead, she walked to the table that housed Adder, Cryo, Cinder, and the three components of Sweetaloo. “Hi, Cei!” Cinder said, waving. “How are you holding up?” “Okay enough,” Cei said, taking a seat at the table. “What are you all talking about?” “Going home,” the Sweetie Component said. “For real, this time.” “Yeah, home…” Adder smiled. “Hearin’ them talk, Ah decided Ah was goin’ home too. Spent enough time out adventurin’ with Cinder. Still got a family and a farm, y’know?” Cinder patted her on the back. “And… well, if you can, talk to our Scootaloo.” “Ah’ll try. Ah think Ah can get her to come around, with time. A lot of time. And apples.” “How about you, Cei?” the Apple Bloom component asked. “Where’re you goin’?” “Staying right here,” Cei confirmed. “This station is my home now. More or less.” Cinder grinned. “Oh, that means we might get to see more of each other! Vedek Kira has signed a treaty recognizing Merodi Universalis as a legitimate foreign power on Deep Space Nine. Assuming the Federation doesn’t balk, we’ll be coming around more often for trading and stuff.” “But no conversion?” Cinder nodded. “We’ve been asked to limit ourselves to a small presence. Which we’ll totally do. But hey, now that we have official relations, I might be able to get you immunity for previous crimes by virtue o—“ “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves,” Cei said. “I’m just glad to have a home and not be… well, what I used to be.” Cei blinked. “Oh my Celestia, I’ve become a cliché redeemed villain.” Cryo chuckled. “You totally have.” “Well, Cinder, I’m gonna still be a thorn in your side!” “Careful, you might become her nemesis.” Cryo raised her eyebrows repeatedly. “…I feel like I’m missing context,” Cei said. Cryo shrugged. “Absolutely. But it doesn’t really matter. All this talk of home has made me realize that I haven’t gone home in a long time. Maybe that’s the entire reason I haven’t felt like I belonged out here recently. I need to go back, see my sister.” She played with some ice on the table. “I’m not sure.” “You should definitely at least go visit,” Cinder said. “I’ve already called Xenium, we’ve got a picnic scheduled for tomorrow. The difference is I know I’m going back to Swip right afterward.” “Yeah… you do that.” Cryo stood up. “Maybe it is time for me to hang up the ice. I did have one last awesome hurrah against Nausicaa I barely remember.” She chuckled. “I bet it was awesome,” the Scootaloo component said. “It was! And confusing.” “It’s like everyone’s going home,” Adder said, smiling. “…Even you, Cinder. We all know where you belong.” Cinder absent-mindedly adjusted the Tower rose in her mane. “Yeah… I knew even when I left.” ~~~ Cinder walked up to the top of the tallest hill in Sweet Apple Acres. The one in her home universe. It was just as she remembered it—a large apple tree looking out over the pleasant green and red apple orchards. In the distance, she could see evidence of progress: flying machines, larger buildings, and the expanded size of Ponyville. But she wasn’t here for any of that. This may have been her home universe, but it wasn’t her home, not anymore. She belonged out there, among the stars. But no matter how far she went, how attractive it was, there was someone here she could never leave forever. Xenium looked up from the picnic blanket she had set up, a warm smile on her face. “Welcome back, Cinder.” “Xenium!” Cinder rushed her sister into a hug, pulling her close with a laugh that forced tears out of her eyes. “I…” “I’m sorry,” Xenium said. “I…” “No, no. No apologies.” Cinder shook her head. “You’re my sister. You are and always will be.” “But you…” “Being a Replacer doesn’t change that,” Cinder asserted. “I am Cinder, and I am your sister. I may not be your original sister, but that doesn’t matter. And even if I figure out where I came from… the time we spent together will not change. I… I Pinkie Promise.” Xenium’s smile faltered. “Cinder…” “If I break that promise… I deserve worse than whatever she will do to me. Cross my heart, hope to fly, stick a cupcake in my eye.” Xenium shook her head, chuckling. “You… I should have told you a long time ago.” “And I knew I was being hotheaded but I also knew I needed to go and…” She broke out into tense laughter. “And it’s all behind us. Trying to figure out who did what and why and where the blame lies is just silly. We’re back, together, the sisters we should be. And I’m not going to leave you behind no matter how far I go or for how long I vanish.” “And I won’t stop supporting you wherever you go.” Xenium patted her sister on the head. “Now, I’m all for deep discussion, but how about we at least get the food out?” “Oh, yes, I’m starving.” “So…” Rarity pulled out a sandwich and handed it to her sister. “What… is it like, being a Replacer?” “There’s a lot of things I don’t know, including what a Replacer even is, but… it’s like being able to walk a mile in someone else’s shoes…” ~~~ Sunset’s Isekai came out of safe mode without incident, popping back into its normal place among the multiverse. All incoming requests were accepted once more, and it began to search for more people who just needed a drink. Isekai was a little disappointed that her first customer was Cryo. “Cryo…” Cryo held up a hoof. “I’m not here for a drink. Just saying that I won’t be around as much.” Isekai broke out into a warm smile. “Oh, did you find what you were looking for?” “Had one last hurrah, then realized maybe I should just go home.” Cryo shrugged. “You were right, I’m not Cinder, my destiny doesn’t have to be out adventuring or doing anything important. I can just… go back to being a filly. There’s nothing wrong with that.” Isekai nodded. “Glad you finally found that out. You may find that it won’t be easy to just go back, you’ve been changed by your experiences out here.” “Yeah, but back home, I’m not going to get skewered through the heart by trauma. I might be able to work out some things in a situation that isn’t… insane chaos with too much anime to it.” “...Will you keep the ice powers?” “Maybe. Haven’t decided yet.” Cryo shrugged. “I’ll think about it some. I’ll be sure to come by and let you know.” Isekai nodded. As Cryo turned around, she held out a hand. “Hey, before you go… want another root beer for old time’s sake?” Cryo smirked. “Oh, why not. Hit me!” ~~~ Suzie slowly, but carefully, sat down in the office chair. She rubbed her hands up and down the armrest and examined the room around her. It was largely empty aside from a computer, a tall stack of paperwork, and a nameplate at the front of the desk. Carefully, she picked up the nameplate on the desk, the one that had belonged to the previous owner. Nausicaa. “You’ll get a new one tomorrow,” Jade said, coming into the office with a cart full of paperwork. “And for the first few weeks I’ll take off my usual ‘mascot’ duties of looking cute and welcoming to help you settle in. It’s a big seat you’re filling.” “I know,” Suzie said, tentatively looking at the paperwork. “But I think it’s about time I came back, don’t you?” “It is about the only job you could fill, given…” “My restrictions, yeah yeah…” She looked at one of the papers. “ ‘Motion to abolish the automatic dispensation of kanar from replicators?’ What even…?” “You’ll get used to it.” Suzie shrugged, placing it back on the pile. “And so I’ve completed the rise to power. I was a footsoldier and now I’m an all-powerful bureaucrat.” “You could run for mayor of Celestia City.” Suzie chuckled. “And probably win. ‘Shady history’ all locked behind classified intel, and Blumiere is always looking for someone to give him a break… I’ll think about it. Later. Give me a few years to settle into my position here as almighty secretary.” Jade’s ears flipped up. “So what is it? All-powerful bureaucrat or almighty secretary?” “Yes.” “Ah.” Jade shrugged. “Well, there are a few people who have short meetings scheduled. We should start sending them in to get some idea of what’s going on…” “Right.” Suzie patted herself down, making sure her fluffy hair was at least presentable. “Who’s the first?” “Nausicaa.” Suzie tensed. “Right… send her in.” Timidly, Nausicaa poked her head through the door. “I… wow. This… are you sure it’s been fifteen years? This place looks…” She grimaced painfully. “Right, right, you don’t want to t-talk to me, that’s okay.” Suzie’s tense face gave way to pity. “The Justice Division decided that your memory erasure was more than enough punishment. You’re no longer the same person that made those mistakes—I’m not going to bite your face off.” “S-sure,” Nausicaa gulped. “W-well, Jade’s already given you everything. I’d, uh… give you advice for the position, but I only remember six months of my service here, and, uh, I was still in over my head at the end of that.” She ruffled her feathers nervously. “Can’t believe I changed that much…” “No idea how you did...?” “I… I can kind of agree with the idea behind ‘my’ actions,” Nausicaa admitted. “But all the violence, erasure, lies, and… I don’t know. Something must have happened to me.” Suzie shook her head. “Look… you’ve got a chance to start a new life.” “Heh… one without any paperwork or clearance at all.” Nausicaa frowned. “Which is why…” She pulled a paper out of her saddlebags and handed it to Suzie. “Recommendation request for the Military Division.” Suzie blinked. “...We’re swapping places.” “It… seems like the best option. I’m barred from bureaucratic service given the… incident. But running around a battlefield wouldn’t involve any of that.” “But you can’t stand blood.” “And you don’t like paperwork.” Nausicaa smiled awkwardly. “But… maybe it’ll help me figure out how I changed so much. I know I can be strong. I just… have to get there.” Suzie looked her up and down… and nodded. “I’ll be sure you get into the Academy with the honors of ‘Active League Agent.’ “ “Oh, thank you…” Suzie scribbled her signature on the paper and copied the file into the League database before handing it back to Nausicaa. “It’ll be hard.” “That’s… kind of the idea.” “I hope you find what you’re looking for.” “You too.” Nausicaa left. When the door closed behind her, Suzie let out a tense breath. “You handled that well,” Jade observed. “I want to punch her and give her all the grace in the world at the same time. Why’d she have to go and wipe herself clean? It makes it so… complicated.” “She did it so the rest of her organization wouldn’t be found out.” “Yeah… I wish Blink knew more.” “She didn’t. All we can hope is that Nausicaa was the ringleader.” Suzie frowned. “Something tells me she wasn’t the only one. Their little group is still out there, taking things without our knowledge, and feeding them into our society. I don’t care how much that’s ‘benefiting’ us, it’s wrong.” “And now it’s your job to track them down. From the paper trail.” Jade grinned. “You’ve proven yourself at least a little good at that.” “Heh. Thanks.” She twirled around in her chair. “So, who’s next?” “Agent Hope ‘Rarity’ Ponsia from the Expeditions Division. She has a complaint about Deetie.” “Deetie?” Jade shrugged. “Send them in…” A Rarity with a crescent scar around her eye dragged a very young Sweetie with a blue pine-tree hat into the room. Hope cleared her throat. “Ahem. Deetie here has claimed to be a fully ranked League Agent, broken into my home, and accused me of working for the alien hive-mind collective of a pyramid conspiracy.” “It’s all true!” Deetie said. “Look at all this evidence!” She took off her hat and poured out images of triangular entities with single eyes, connections between a Rarity and various piles of gold, and lots of string. Suzie picked up one of the pictures. “This isn’t Hope. This is an Infinite Carousel Rarity trying to cut a deal with Scarcity. ...Wait, I know when this was taken. The Starcross Society launched a minor retaliation on the Carousel after this…” Deetie blinked. “Wait, what?” Suzie smiled softly. “Kid, you jumped to conclusions. There might be something here but it has nothing to do with Hope.” “Uh… sorry…” Hope smiled. “Apology accepted.” “You still posed as a full Agent,” Suzie said. “There’ll be consequences for that…” Deetie gulped awkwardly. “Uh…” “You get to help me file papers away for the next week.” Suzie grinned. “NOOOOOOOOOOOOO!” Deetie shouted, sealing her doom. ~~~ Stars whizzed by as little streaks of light, each insignificant speck holding planets and all the inhabitants of those planets knew. And yet, each of them—each filled with their own story, struggles, and history—was passed by in an instant, scarcely even looked upon. All they needed was a quick sweep to scan the system and their mission was complete. And to think, this was just one universe. When compared to the immense majesty of all existence, even all of these stars collectively might as well have been nothing. I think I prefer being insignificant for the moment, Celia thought, swiveling in her captain’s chair. “Swip, report. How much longer is the scanning going to take?” Swip’s avatar appeared on screen. “…At least two weeks, why?” “Better make it three.” “…What?” Swip tilted her head. “You heard me.” “I did, I just think you’re being insane.” “Seconded,” Squiddy said, raising a hand. “You’re off your rocker.” “The captain’s chair doesn’t rock,” Burgerbelle observed. “Yeah, it rocks,” Seren said, waggling her eyebrows. “I don’t think she’s insane,” Nira said, glancing to Swip’s avatar. “I think she knows exactly what she’s doing.” “And what is that?” Squiddy asked, hands on her hips. “Giving us a chance to internalize everything,” Cinder said, rose glittering in her mane. “We’ve all just been through… a lot. Some of our closest friends aren’t here anymore. Life has changed for all of us. And a few secrets have been let out.” “Precisely, my dear Cinder,” Celia said. “We all need a moment—a long moment—to just be with each other and talk. No adventures, no life-or-death situations, no moral quandaries… just a family doing what a family is supposed to do after a traumatic experience. Talk about it.” Celia stood up in her chair, trying to look more important. “When we lost Ser, we all made an unspoken agreement to just… forget about it and move on. Then we doubled down on it so we wouldn’t scare Cinder off. And as much as I love Suzie, that was not something she should have let happen. We bottled it up and it led to all kinds of problems down the line. We’re not going to hide from it this time. Sweetaloo is split up never to be reformed, Blink’s in jail and betrayed us all, Suzie had to go because she was unfit for duty, I’m part psychotic spell of darkness, Nira’s done some very questionable things, and Cinder’s existence brings up so many ethical dilemmas. So.” She sat back down, pressing her front hooves together. “We have three weeks of nothing but us and this ship. We’re going to make the most of it.” Squiddy groaned. “Really? You… you’re serious. We’re going to be talking about our feelings?!” “Yep. And, in case you were thinking of objecting, this is an order.” She grinned evilly. “So buckle up buttercups, the feels train has no breaks.” Nira nodded. “I both anticipate and dread the coming week.” “I don’t!” Burgerbelle said. “You have no deep traumatic experiences,” Cinder said. “Oh. Right.” Burgerbelle produced a tin of baking hot muffins. “But at least I made muffins!” “Heck yes!” Squiddy said, taking a muffin. “Great stuff.” “You took the first muffin, you get to go first!” Celia declared. “...Shit.” “Do you want to talk about Ser, the bottom of the ocean, or the war?” “None of the above?” “Please, do tell.” Squiddy swallowed part of the muffin. “W-well… I, uh, met this guy…” Everyone stared at her in disbelief. “I meet guys!” Squiddy blurted. “Geez... you all have so little faith in me.” “…Go on,” Seren encouraged, eyes wide, eager to hear about the possibility of more families coming into existence. “W-well… turns out there are inklings on Deep Space Nine and there was this one blue guy named Drift…”