//------------------------------// // Chapter 4 // Story: Hegira: Rising Omega // by Guardian_Gryphon //------------------------------// Earth Calendar: 2117 Equestrian Calendar: 15 AC (After Contact) Twelfth Month, Fifth Day, Celestial Calendar Four eyes watched from a gable window as three Gryphons, one bearing a lone Unicorn, vanished into the evening mist.  The luminous orbs blinked in peculiarly synchronized patterns, occasionally betraying tiny flecks of green for split seconds at a time. The owner of the first two made her thoughts known with poorly disguised disdain.  Had anyone apart from her larger Pegasus comrade been able to hear them, they would have found the tone wholly unbecoming of a Royal Guard. 'What I'd give for a chance to kill those claw-toed, feather-clad, brainless--' Her superior interrupted sharply, though his muzzle remained as firmly closed as his companion's. 'Mind your thoughts.  They betray your lack of discipline.  Hate them?  Yes.  Underestimate them?  Only at your peril.  Far more of us have died fighting them than vice versa.  Neither the strength of the Hive, nor fluidity of form, will be your ally, without the ability to remain emotionless, and pragmatic.' The Changelings both stiffened, reflecting each-other's' tension back and forth betwixt themselves for a moment, before the older Pegasus-form quashed the sentiment forcibly, and continued in a forced monotone. 'This will be difficult enough with two of them hanging about the castle.  Do not provoke them, or involve them.  Be extra cautious, and with proper timing we can finish our task without any added risk or delay.' The female Unicorn-form nodded slowly, her ears drooping in submission at last, along with the tone of her thoughts. 'Understood.  My will is the Hive's.' Earth Calendar: 2117 Equestrian Calendar: 15 AC (After Contact) Twelfth Month, Sixth Day, Celestial Calendar Carradan I pointedly chose to ignore the questioning stares of my companions, closing my eyes and savoring every last precious gulp as O downed the contents of my third chilled tankard in a single go. The fact that it was barely mid-morning had no bearing whatsoever on the number of tankards I intended to put away.  Accusations of day-drinking be damned. I paused to swirl the last of the beer around the tip of my tongue, before swallowing, gasping for air, and setting the tankard gingerly next to its empty twins on the deep brown, weathered mahogany surface of the table. Glancing back and forth between Kephic and Varan, I shrugged and grinned. "What?  I haven't had a thing to drink besides water in *months.*  I think I've found a whole new appreciation for ol' redfeathers' boot camp stories.  IJ is merciless I tell ya.  Absolutely stone blithering cold on the training ground." Varan raised an eyebrow, and spoke with his usual flat tone as Kephic snorted, and stuck his beak into his own tankard. "I take it your relationship has suffered then?" I coughed reflexively for a moment, clenching my eyes shut and shaking my head as I looked to clear my throat and put his question to bed. "Ack! No no! Just the opposite!  Sure it's been a tough little while on me, but she's doing it for our own good.  She leads a dangerous life.  You guys live dangerous lives.  I gotta be equipped to survive in those conditions.  If anything, it's brought us closer than ever.  Don't get me wrong;  I picked up a LOT of good stuff from watching you overgrown dusters slam heads together..." I succeeded in fully clearing my airway, and paused to inhale before finishing the thought in a way I knew wouldn't insult my buddies. "...But Gryphons fight like Gryphons.  Changelings fight much more like a Pegasus oughta, and so they're the best teachers I could ever ask for.  I ain't been in this kinda shape since college.  And I can bludgeon brains with the best of 'em these days." Kephic lowered his tankard slowly, and raised one eyebrow with a facial expression equal parts incredulity, humor, and his favorite brand of mock scorn. I inclined my head and sighed.  These guys wouldn't ever let you brag.  Not to save your life. "Right.  Fine.  With the best of the beginners.  No need to lord a century of experience over us mere grass-eaters." The speckled Gryphon shook his head, and his grin widened as he gestured to the bartender to bring another round. "We just want to be sure all those new muscles don't go to your head;  We want you to live long enough to have a century of experience too.  You've grown on us, after all." Kephic sighed contentedly, and glanced around the mostly empty establishment as he continued.  I could tell he was mentally sizing up the other patrons, all Equines eating hearty breakfasts, for no other reason than to have an extra internal thought-exercise. Gryphons had this terrifying way of seeing everything.  Absolutely everything.  All the time. Lying to them was, for the most part a bad joke, hiding emotions was usually a losing battle, and concealing anything, no matter how small, whether physical or emotional, was a non-starter. "You *do* look to be in excellent shape.  It's nice to see a Pony with the gumption, *and* the physical capacity, to stand up and defend his own kind as a real warrior.  Maybe there's hope for your gold-plated friends after all..." "Well I'd certainly hope so.  Otherwise it's a pretty bad reflection on me." The new voice took me by surprise, but clearly not the Gryphons.  Because of course it didn't. I couldn't place the white Unicorn's face, but I got the meaning inherent in his Royal attire instantly.  Kephic and Varan both looked like they recognized him out and out, but the expression was one of familiarity by reputation, not by acquaintance. Kephic reached to his left, snagging a chair from the nearest empty table, and pulling it into position. "Hey now.  It's not as if your kind lacks potential, or even a dedicated few with the right skills..." The Unicorn relaxed slightly as he sat, finishing Kephic's thought for him, as he set his gold tinted helmet down on the table. "...Well, as her Highness is always saying;  Why should we militarize in apparent defiance of our peaceful nature, when we have you folks to kill all the things that go bump in the night *for* us?" He sighed, and shook his head politely in refusal as Varan proffered a fresh mug of cider.  Abruptly realizing that I was silently struggling to place his identity, he smiled and extended one hoof to the me. "I'm Shining Armor." I reached out to bump the hoof with my own, pausing to respond before going muzzle-first into yet another tankard.  I loved that hoof-bump greeting.  When I was a Human, I had to shake a lot of nasty, greasy, awfully germy hands as a reporter.  I didn't miss it, not one lick. "Stan.  Nice to meetcha!" Kephic smirked and glanced at the disproportionately large pile of empty mugs beside me. If nothing else?  I could certainly hold my liquor like a Gryphon.   He took the opportunity to fill in the relevant information Shining had left out, for my benefit. "Shining was Captain of the Day-Guard for a long time.  Then he found a mate, got promoted, and now he commands their northern army." Shining raised a hoof and shook his head, suppressing a chuckle. "Correction: I'm technically a prince now, and that's why I'm in charge of the Northern Defense Force, such as it is.  I just usually don't like to talk about it right out of the gate.  Ruling, and ceremony, and circumstance are my Wife's purview.  I'm happiest when everyone pretends I'm still 'one of the guys.' " I cocked my head and raised one eyebrow, interjecting abruptly as I finally put my last mug aside in favor of a small plate of hot apple strudel.  I sensed a kindred spirit, but I also sensed a learning opportunity.  Reporters' catnip. "Is our society exclusively a matriarchy or somethin'?  I'm still fuzzy on the politics over here, but every time ponies are talkin' about who's in charge, it's always a 'she.' " Shining offered only a shrug as he collected his thoughts.  After a brief pause, he launched into his best explanation in a good-natured tone of interest.  I made a mental note of every last word.  I still did a lot of freelance writing for Earth-side newsmedia, and the leadership structures of the Equestrian nations were still pea-soup to most average Humans. "Well, yes and no.  The Human term is 'meritocracy.'  We are ruled by our Alicorns, and our Alicorns arise only from among worthy, and representative members of any of the three tribes.  In recent recorded history, all of our Alicorns have been females.  But we only really have four to go on at any rate, so it's a subject of intense debate amongst scholars." Good, but not great.  That wasn't his fault, apparently everypony was just as confused about some of the details.  I shrugged at the explanation, and took a deep breath of the steam emanating from my deliciously fruity breakfast, muttering softly to myself in interest. "I really need to find some books on the subject or somethin'.  The reporter in me wants to understand every last little nut and bolt of the system.  You can't understand anything as messy as politics without context." Varan inclined his head in agreement, adjusting the conversation's course with his own query as I finally dug into my food with, what I imagine seemed to them to be uncharacteristic restraint.  One of the habits IJ had taught me.  Food was better, and better for you, when consumed at a steady rate, rather than inhaled. "Speaking of political complexity.  What brings you down from the Crystal Empire?" Shining glowered down at the decorative tuft on his helmet, gritting his teeth reflexively for a long and awkward moment, before responding with a carefully measured note of controlled anger.  Again I sensed a story.  Probably several.  Probably juicer than the fruit on my plate. "Cadence asked me to represent her in her stead at these...  'Negotiations' with the Changelings.  Her last encounter with them was...  A bad experience.  I'm here so she doesn't have to be.  And I'm here to ensure there won't be any repeat bad experiences." Shaking my head adamantly, I snorted, barely avoiding a culinary disaster in my haste to interject.  Food could be turned into a mean projectile by Equine lungs, let me tell you. "Naw!  That's one thing you definitely don't need to worry about.  I can vouch for that personally." Shining fired off an expression that seemed torn between anger, disgust, and outright disbelief in my direction.  I decided very suddenly that I liked him a lot less than I'd thought I would. "You mean to tell me you *know* this Changeling Queen?" I chuckled and blinked rapidly, reminding myself, for the millionth time, that I wasn't dreaming.  I did my best to stay vague, but I knew my tone gave a lot away.  I didn't mind.  If he didn't like my beau?  He could stuff it up his poncy princely ass for all I cared. "You ah...  You could say that.  You could say that, and a whole lot more." The Unicorn snorted in derision, rising and retrieving his helmet to the soft tune of his own thaumatic field.  As Shining placed the protective garb back onto his head, he cast a withering glare over his shoulder at me.  I decided that not only did I not like him at all, but that I'd rather he took that smug superiority, and shoved it somewhere else. "My advice?  Put any perceived...  'connection' you have to this creature aside.  Changelings are trouble.  Pure and simple.  You're either duped, safely distanced...  Or you're trouble too.  Best to decide now rather than have her decide for you." As the Prince departed, I fixed the back of his head with a stare that visibly shocked my Gryphon companions.  Varan and Kephic exchanged a brief glance, each probably reflecting on how my demeanor was more suited to an angry Gryphon than any Pegasus they had previously met.   Their good influence on me was to be thanked for that.  Gryphons know how to be angry.  How to be angry, and how to use it in all the most dangerous ways.  Bless 'em for sharing their know-how when asked.  There was a time I couldn't have held my own against wet toilet tissue. I wagered that at that point, I could have beat Prince snob-muzzle within an inch of his life without breaking a sweat, thanks as much to the Gryphons as to IJ. I lifted my fork in the frog of one hoof and rammed it into the remains of my strudel with such force that it pierced the food, the wooden plate, and most of the table underneath, grinding out my thoughts through a grit muzzle. "I think I hate that guy." Varan sighed, and gulped back the entire contents of his tankard in a single go. "Ah.  The throes of love, and all its wondrous side effects." Kephic smirked, and clapped me on the shoulder roughly. "You know something?  I think we've been a bad influence on you." If they were a bad influence, I decided I never wanted a good one ever again. As to the prince?  I had only one thought as I carefully extracted my strudel from the ruins of my plate. Buck that guy. Earth Calendar: 2117 Equestrian Calendar: 11 AC (After Contact) December 5th, Gregorian Calendar Fyrenn The first thing to catch my eye was the pulse of the lighthouse;  Dim at first over the curve of the horizon, but intensifying with proximity, until at last it resolved into a bright flickering point, keeping rhythmic but steady watch over a scene of almost contradictory juxtaposition. I wasn't sure if anyone truly understood the spatial mechanics of the Barrier.  Skye certainly seemed to have a better idea than the average lay-being, but all her attempts to help me understand had come to naught.  Math was never my strong suit, let alone N-Dimensional Calculus. All I could grasp was that which most people did.  The Barrier was inexorable in its march, complex elements from Earth could not pass through it intact, and the relative scale of distance was different on either side. For every square meter of Earth consumed by the energy field, an exponentially larger amount of space was added to Equestria. All the greatest miracles of modern science and Equestrian Thaumatics had ever managed to do was slow the Barrier's march slightly, and ensure a narrow corridor of Equestrian space would expand less explosively, keeping the trip from Earth to known inhabited lands artificially short. In practical terms that meant there was only one safe place to cross over into Equestria, and only one easily reachable location to cross over to Earth.  Reaching a more distant point of the Barrier on the Equestrian side would be a journey of months, or years. Crossing from Earth at any other point would leave the traveler stranded in uncharted, virgin lands teeming with unknown dangers, and with no sense of location, or way home. Due to continuing expansion, the safe transit point would move constantly to maintain its relative arc-point on the bubble.  Dramatically on the Earth side, and much more slowly on the Equestrian side. At the time I was vaguely aware through hearsay that a small landmass had appeared in the Equestrian Great Western Sea, which had until recently abutted the North Atlantic Ocean.  The latter was more or less gone by that time.  All consumed. The new island, for its part, had been converted into an embarkation port for Converts.  The island's most visible feature was a tall brick lighthouse.  The remainder of the available space was covered entirely in multilevel stone and wooden walkways, and waiting areas. The terraces spilled over into docks on the island's eastern side, and linked to a series of long bridges on its western side.  The modular spans arced all the way across the barrier, supported by floating stanchions, making landfall on Earth at their terminus. The sight was made all the stranger by the height difference between the island, sitting at sea-level, and the land-level of Earth, which was four hundred feet higher at the connecting point, and rising dramatically as the barrier chewed its way inland into North America. One could make out four hundred feet of geology, mostly molten and collapsing in hyper-slow-motion as a result of the Barrier's energies, laid out like a diorama behind the swirling translucent colors of the bubble. A steady stream of wooden and canvas sailing ships, as well as newer similarly constructed airships, came and went on the Equestrian side.  The Earth side was a logistically nightmarish sprawl of tents, emergency shelters, maglev and monorail tracks, VTOL pads, and footpaths covering several hundred acres. As we approached, I could even make out crews removing tents, segments of track, and other useful materials near the barrier as it marched steadily on, replacing those supplies at the opposite end of the camp in a seemingly never-ending sisyphean task. I shuddered reflexively. In spite of all the things I loved about being a Gryphon, about my new home, and about the partnership between Humanity and Equestria, the painful truth still remained.   The world of my birth was dying a staid, but inevitable death. There was more than a little existential horror implicit in such a concept.  Mostly I could put it out of my mind, but occasionally it kept me awake at night. It was visibly obvious that Humanity was finally beginning to feel the true squeeze of that horror.  When I had left last, a few hundred Converts might be transiting on an especially busy day.   By the count of my faultless Gryphon eyes, which missed nothing so much as a stray hair, it looked as if that number had moved into the tens of thousands. Some fast and rough calculations told me that, even with those numbers, and subtracting the compliment the Genesists intended to fly away, as well as any Humans dying of old age, it would take almost a millennium to move the whole species at the given rate. Earth didn't even have half a century left, of that much the professional number-crunchers were sure.  No one could say whether the number was closer to forty, or twenty, because no one knew yet if the Barrier Retarder platforms were going to begin losing their effectiveness to the momentum of the field. The worst, I knew, would be to come.  In the years when billions of bodies would be crammed into tiny remaining spaces in Asia, Australia, and emergency floating settlements in the Indian Ocean which were already under construction. The chokepoint would cease to be Human apathy, and fear of change, and would begin to instead be pure logistical limitation on how many people could safely be converted, and transported, per hour.  How quickly could Humans make potion with reduced manufacturing capacity.  How quickly could they get the word out, process people safely, and get them moved on when apathy might still, after all that suffering, be the primary driving force? To a Gryphon, twenty years wasn't an especially long time, as compared to the Human view of time.  It baffled me to think that people were still recalcitrant to accept their future.  The same stupid heel-dragging that had caused the climate apocalypse of the early twenty first century. The exercise in numbers inexorably led to the thought that, owing to average Equestrian life-span I, and most others, wouldn't just live to see the planet die, but we would live more of our lives in a reality without Earth, than we had in a reality where it still existed. That thought kept coming back to send ice through my veins, a peculiar mix of melancholy, shock, excitement, and hope, every time I considered the math. As Neyla and Alyra swung right to catch a thermal, and bring themselves up to the level of Earth's geology, I absently followed suit.  I privately began wondering if, in my old age, I might someday look back on my Human memories of Earth with a radically altered viewpoint which I could not yet even fathom.  The product of years of living in a different world, as a different species. Our perspectives are often so tied to our experiences. As Equestria gave way to Earth, existentialism gave way to practicality.  I exhaled sharply as the Barrier wall itself loomed, and sensed Skye do the same from her position on my back.   The trick prevented differences in air composition and pressure from causing hiccups, and other unsavory gastrointestinal or pulmonary adjustment shock. With barely a tingle of static, and the vague sense of actually passing through a gargantuan soap bubble, the crossing was over.  Equestrian matter went both ways with nary a care.   Anything from Earth more molecularly complex than simple dense non-organic metals would fall apart explosively, at the atomic level, trying to make the reverse trip. 'Why,' in a scientific sense, had long ago been pinned down.  'Why' in an evolutionary sense;  Why was the Equestrian universe the way it was at all?  That, no one could conclusively say. I winced as the sounds, and smells, of the transit camp assaulted my senses, together with the much clearer sight of the sprawl. Coolant, solvents, sweat, cooking rations, hot asphalt, and warm poly-canvas mixed to form a nasty olfactory concoction.  The soundscape was awash in crying children, shouting workmen, the ever-present drone and clash of mechanical equipment, and the booming echo of multiple public address systems. The camp's occupants were lucky;  At most they'd spend two days there.  Conversion itself took place in Bureaus around the world.  Then the journey to the camp would be made by air, sea, rail, or some combination of the three. Once the camp's occupants boarded an Equestrian transport, they would be off to a considerably less crowded, more comfortable living situation. I realized suddenly that one advantage inherent to being an 'early adopter' of Conversion was the chance to pick your future accommodation.  The cities, the frontier, or the countryside;  All available destinations to the interested Convert. When the crush truly began, however, I suspected that there would have to be a lottery for living space in existing settlements.  The majority of late-comers would find that the price of dallying was a much harder frontier life. That would appeal to many, of course, but it would also put many others off.  Some city dwellers would be willing to trade, but not enough for everyone.  Many Humans would, in my estimation, one day wish they had possessed more foresight. Seven billion people could not be transplanted without some harsh consequences, even if Equestria could provide at least a thousand times the raw geographic space of Earth, and far more besides. Only a microscopic fraction of that space was settled and improved, with infrastructure and all the creature comforts of society.  Many a Convert would likely spend their entire life working to carve out civilization all over again, with all the benefits, and struggles, inherent to such a task. I spied a familiar pair of Human faces near the VTOL pads, and tucked into a shallow dive.  Neyla and Alyra followed, and we flared to simultaneous landings. Alyra bounded forward and crashed into Hutch and Aston, nearly sending the two flat onto their backs with the force of her arrival, smothering them in her wings.  I loved watching her do it, and never said a word to break her of the habitual greeting. I shared a smirk with Skye, relishing the opportunity to see Hutch in a slightly undignified position, in complete opposition to the man's usual composed military bearing. Gradually the two officers extricated themselves, returning the young Gryphoness' embrace each in turn before moving on to greet the rest of the group.  Hutch and Aston exchanged fist-hoofs with Skye, then Hutch and I shared a brief hug while Aston did the same with Neyla. I smirked again, this time at my former commander, and proffered a mischievous wink, matched by the playful air in my voice. "How's life at the flag-level treating you *sir*?" The use of the term was half as a needling jest, half a veiled sign of deep respect.  Hutch hated it when friends used formalities to refer to him, while at the same time it was rare, perhaps nonexistent, for there to be an occasion where a Gryphon would refer to a Human with a term reserved for a superior officer. It was my way of telling him how much I loved him, though I knew he'd never want to hear the word itself out loud.  Not yet anyhow.  He was more of a dear godfather, or uncle to me, than a commanding officer at that point.  And to think I'd wanted to break his jaw when I first met him. "Don't call me sir.  Ever.  I'm so tired of being called sir.  I think I may be slowly losing my mind." My face fell, and I sighed deeply.  I could hear the pain, exhaustion, and frustration in his words, at a level I had never known him to express before, even under extreme duress. "That bad?" Hutch nodded sharply, and placed a friendly hand on my shoulder. "Worse, I'm afraid.  There are days where I debate throwing my bars on the desk, popping the question to Aston, marching us both right down to the Bureau, and taking the gold-stuff together without even bothering to pack a bag or write a 'dear John' to my superiors." I knew he was referring to Gryphon Potion, and it shocked me to hear Hutch speak of it in such a longing way.  The old soldier's plan had always been to take Gryphonization eventually, but he'd always seemed to be content to put it off until the last moment.  It seemed to me that stress and exhaustion had utterly and irrevocably changed that. That, perhaps, and some of the things we had seen together as a result of my own actions.  Neither of us were naive obedient soldiers anymore, doing the bidding of Earthgov without question or concern.  We knew too much to ever follow an order without thinking again. Hutch sighed, and jerked a thumb over his shoulder at one of the waiting aircraft;  A jet-turbine VTOL configured for speed and range. "We'll talk on the way.  A lot of things have changed these last months." I stood still for a moment, sweeping the sad scene of the camp with my eyes and taking everything in once more, as the rest of the group moved towards the VTOL.  The high duracrete walls, tipped in razor wire, which surrounded the compound, struck me suddenly in a new light, and I wondered why they were even present at all.   I wondered who they were meant to keep out. Finally, I unrooted myself only when the rest of the group had passed me by entirely, taking up the rear of the line as dark ruminations filled my mind. Hutch's words were discomforting, to say the very least. I wondered if it had been wise for me to come back after all. Earth Calendar: 2117 Equestrian Calendar: 15 AC (After Contact) Twelfth Month, Sixth Day, Celestial Calendar "The situation is, and I'm sure you can understand why...  Delicate." Celestia carefully took time to lock eyes with each being seated at the table as she continued, projecting her best air of stability, calm, and level headed openness;  A demeanor she had centuries of practice in summoning at a moment's notice. "On parchment, I have the power to sign this alliance into law without any permission, consultation, or validation from any other person or party.  I face no concerns from my sister...  Indeed, she, as the warrior, has fewer reservations than I do." The monarch's lavender eyes passed from Luna, to IJ, to Shining, and then back to IJ as her words marched on in an unbroken, steady train. "But I am also subject to political forces, just as surely as every living thing is subject to gravity.  I can try to defy those forces, with all the foolishness and consequences of a flightless creature hurling itself off a cliff, or I can utilize them to our benefit, the way a soaring Gryphon makes air and gravity its own subjects." Celestia cast a brief glance across the study to a smaller table near the door, where Kephic, Varan, and Stan were passing the time in hushed conversation, and card games, with pairs of Day Guards, Night Guards, and Changeling warriors. "Take our feathered friends for example.  I have absolute power in my own government, true, but I am also legally bound by an alliance with their people, who are ruled by constitutional, representative monarchy.  Any agreement between my kind and yours, IJ, must meet with some degree of their approval if I am to maintain good standing with them..." The solar monarch cast a wry glance at Shining Armor, whose visage had remained stony and silent throughout the initial discussions of the day. "...And though I could certainly overrule those who reign under me at various levels of my own government, I would certainly rather not.  It would ease the minds of my subjects, my colleagues in government, and ease my burden of governing in future, if we could reach an alliance in a manner that satisfies all parties, and acknowledges the ripple effects such agreements have for all in the land.  Not just our two interests." IJ nodded slowly, then inclined her head towards Kephic and Varan as she embarked on a measured response. "Your people trust the Gryphons, or you would not be so closely knit to them, even reliant on them as your guardians.  I've come to see them in a positive light through my own...  Friendships.  So I propose we make them a part of this negotiation.  They will certainly have concerns based on their past hostilities with our former kind, but I am confident that they will vouch for us, and back us, in the end.  As you know, I have connections where it counts.  I can make my case." Shining interjected with precisely as much decorum as the situation required at a minimum;  The rest sacrificed in his haste to object.  He addressed his gaze, and words, to Celestia and Luna. "Your highnesses, not to step above my station, but representing the viewpoint of my wife as she requested...  I'd like to keep the Gryphon Kingdoms, and any other third parties, out of this.  These negotiations are problematic enough without adding the inherent tension of inviting another warrior race to this table." Celestia shook her head, and held back a deep sigh of concern, maintaining the same dispassionate tone she always did in the early stages of such a process. "This isn't an issue of what you, your wife, or I would prefer, or like, or find convenient, Shining.  This is purely an issue of what's most likely to lead to a stable outcome.  Now, you have enough personal relationships to Gryphon military leaders...  Don't you think that if anyone is going to support your reservations in all of this, and provide counterbalancing arguments, that it will be them?" After a long and thoughtful pause, Shining exhaled and nodded in assent. Celestia mimicked the gesture, and dipped her head to each being at the table in turn as she closed out the evening's work. "Very well then;  We will have a courier dispatched immediately to request diplomatic representation from the Kingdoms, or permission for those already present to act as such, as their preference may be enough.  We can then resume tomorrow, with all parties present." Glittering green eyes watched with perfect focus as the occupants issued forth from the royal study.  White ears perked forward through blue-dyed mane to catch every last word. The solar and lunar Alicorns paired off and made their way down one corridor.  The female Unicorn form knew that they would be in the kitchens for hours after, sharing an evening tea.  The ritual was a staple of the monarchs' familial routine. Similarly, the two Gryphons departed in the direction of the nearest open balcony.  The Unicorn form surmised they were most likely off to an evening hunt on the back side of the mountain, well beyond the bounds where animals would be wild, and no longer sapient as a result of Pony magic. Their quest would occupy them for some hours, at minimum. The Night Guards moved off to assume their evening watch posts, while the Day Guards remained to keep an eye on the visitors until such time as they were back in a less secure area of the castle. The chief traitor herself paused, exchanging disgusting affectionate gestures with the salmon Pegasus, using her wings, and muzzle, in the abhorrent fashion of the one-forms. Mercifully, the moment was cut short by the arrival of the princeling Unicorn.  He exchanged expressions of mild hostility with both the Pegasus, and the Traitor-Queen.  The Unicorn form found she could at least respect his outward show of justified distrust, even if he was on the opposite side of the conflict. Being an age-old enemy, and food source, was one thing, being a traitor was far worse. The traitor exchanged another brief kiss with the Pegasus, before gesturing for him to depart.  He raised a brief objection, but a glare comprised equal parts of love, reassurance, and scolding sent him on his way. She likewise dismissed her own guards, who were followed by one of the Day Guards.  The male form infiltrator exchanged the tiniest hint of a glance with his conspirator, his eyes flashing green in acknowledgement that he would tend to his tasks, even as the Unicorn form attended to hers. She studied one of the departing traitor-guards for a long moment, briefly committing to memory the details of her chosen off-yellow chitin, female coded shape, shockingly blue eyes, and muted orange crest protrusions, and wings. Only the Unicorn princeling, one of the Day Guards, and the Traitor-Queen remained in the hallway.  The time to act was drawing close. Before the princeling could speak, the traitor raised one hoof and voiced her own thoughts. "I understand your behavior.  Frankly, I'm not sure I would respect you if you weren't at least somewhat suspicious of me.  But you *will* pay me two respects which I am owed as a guest of your government.  You will leave my relationships, regardless of whom they are with, out of this, and you will set your bias aside, and remain open to the possibility that I am *not* like the despicable...  *Thing* that tried to replace your mate." The princeling blinked for several moments, processing the words, before nodding;  His face impassive. "That's fair." He raised an eyebrow, and delivered his final thoughts over one shoulder as he departed down the corridor. "I won't blindly put aside the suspicions born of experience.  But there is a chance to accomplish something here.  If you can gain the trust of Gryphons, I imagine that means you can gain mine as well...  Just don't buck it up." At last, only the Day Guard and the traitor herself were left.  The female Unicorn form followed them at a distance of several yards, masking her own hoofbeats by matching the exact cadence of the Day Guard himself.  An Earth Pony of approximately middle-age. As the pair reached a door marking the exit to a less secured area of the castle, and the guest wing where the traitors were residing, the guard proffered a formal salute, then took up position by the door as the Traitor-Queen passed through. A shiver passed through the not-quite-a-Unicorn as she shed the external layers of the form in favor of the one she had memorized earlier; Off-yellow chitin, beetle-like orange hued wings, and head crests of a similar color, followed at last by a stinging in her eyes as they shifted to an icy blue. She modified the changes as they swept over her front hooves, extending part of the natural leg guards out into wickedly sharp killing-scythes. The Changeling rounded the corner in full moments after the completion of the process.  The guard looked slightly startled, as they all did whenever faced with such a sight, but offered only a polite salute. It was a trivial thing.  Barely even an exertion.  A gesture in passing. As the Changeling reached out to open the door, she rammed the scythe on her right front hoof home, instantly shredding the Earth Pony's heart.  She watched the light of life flee from his eyes so fast, that he didn't even have time to make a sound, beyond the merest of choked gurgles. For the sake of thoroughness, even though she expected it would never be useful, the Changeling collected a sample of the Pony's life-code, just in case, exhilarating slightly in the warm electric tingle as the governing encoding of his physical form entered into her vast stores, and took its place in the collection. Finally, the Changeling brought her hoof down and to the side with great force, snapping off the scythe, and leaving it behind, a glittering chitinous yellow dagger in the heart of one of Celestia's finest. De-morphing the other scythe on the left side, the Changeling moved at a sedate pace down the hall, to the appointed rendezvous with her colleague.  Her superior was there waiting for her, bearing the severed head of the traitor-guard whose face she now wore. "How did you dispose of the rest of the corpse?  Did you have to kill the other one?" The question was aired with total dispassion, and came out in the voice of her previous form as it began, shifting to the voice matching her face as she laid a hoof on the fragment of body, acquired its own unique life-code, and propagated those changes to her internals, and any small external details she had missed. "The corpse is disintegrating at the bottom of the boiler-fires for the south wing.  I was able to separate the two, so the other still lives.  Unaware." The female Changeling nodded, and shifted her concentration to focus entirely on the severed head.  A brief flash of light connected her horn, and head crest, with that of her deceased identical twin. Memories, and the unique thinking pattern of the deceased traitor's brain flowed into the infiltrator, granting her the ability to call on everything the dead doppelganger had ever seen or done in her life, as well as mimic her outward mannerisms, and her thought patterns when connecting to the Traitor-Hive. It was a delicate skill, more of an art really, walking a fine line of concentration to gather relevant data from memory as fast as possible, while staying natural in the face of those who had known the deceased, and yet not losing one's objectivity and previous Hive-Will to either the personality of the deceased, nor in such a unique case the Hive-Will of the enemy. As she made the latter connection, the infiltrator was surprised to discover how easy it was.  The traitors seemed to value and encourage individuality, and private thought, in equal balance to the connections of the Hive. What was shared could be controlled.  The thought was so revolting the infiltrator had to resist the urge to vomit. Her superior turned to depart and dispose of the head, tossing a final question over his shoulder. "Are you prepared?" She nodded, practicing the inflections of her new skin as she spoke. "Death, or imprisonment.  My will is the Hive's."