//------------------------------// // Chapter II: Broken crystal // Story: Four Comrades // by General_Pankow //------------------------------// Several months have passed since the events of the first chapter. The 1007th year has come. During this time, a more or less solid stability has been established in the Changeling kingdom. The turmoil in the state was suppressed, and the country spent several months in peace and quiet. Chrysalis, who had previously been enraptured in her own personal darkness, spoke to the people for the first time in several years. Her speech sounded as fiery and powerful as it had before the times of trouble, without a precipice of heaviness. It became clear from the proclamation of the Queen-Empress: Reforms were coming, the sorrowful events of recent times were necessary, but have passed. The changelings, for their part, were glad to see their ruler in good health. Optimistic and patriotic sentiments began to prevail in society. It was now February 1007. The state is rapidly rising from its knees. Industry was thriving, the once crippling Equestrian economic blockade had been completely negated with the Changeling Lands' successful efforts to strengthen trade relations with the Griffon states. The people lived by the expectation of reforms and had faith in a bright tomorrow. The army was rapidly being re-equipped and reorganized, with a young General-Fieldmarchal Trimmel at its head, the bright bug who had risen from an ordinary officer of the General Staff to supreme commander of the armed forces in a matter of years. Rumors had already spread about new draft laws, about military plans, and new and advanced combat vehicles as well, the number of which was steadily growing thanks to the work of the factories in Vraks. However, something is brewing behind the apparent stability and prosperity. The presence of the secret gendarmerie is growing, the gangs of the underhive are becoming more dangerous, and there are rumors among the highest circles about secret lodges constructing monstrous plans that many would consider insane... P.S. I want to inform you, dear comrades, that I have decided to change up my writing style. Large, bulky chapters can be a little intimidating, so I decided to start breaking them up and making them into smaller and more digestible chunks. Everything is for you, as they say. My sincere thanks to the gentlemen who gave me such an idea. A Changeling quickly entered the room. The others were already there, waiting for him, gazing at him intently. He closed the door, leaving behind the hubbub and noise raging behind it. There was a quiet, calm twilight here. Several changelings sat at a round table, whiling away the time playing poker. There were glasses with expensive essence and ashtrays on the table, occasionally met with the dip of neat white cigarettes on long mouthpieces. The players' faces were hidden in the dim lighting and clouds of tobacco smoke, but the newcomer could clearly distinguish their watch chains, their neat, white standing collars, and the twinkling sparkles of interested eyes. He greeted them dryly and sat down at the table. "So gentlemen, to the point," he began. "New information has come from the Center. Something is afoot in the cabinets of Vesalipolis, our position is under threat." "It’s always been under threat," one of the figures replied sarcastically. "Glory or oblivion, such is the fate of us plot-makers..." "I would ask you to leave this nonsense, Herr Vainias. We are not mere plotters," another changeling, almost completely hidden in the darkness of the room, cut off sternly. Only the faint gleam of the shoulder straps and the silver cords of his cap could be discerned from the shadows and smoke. "One way or another, in spite of the difficulties, we must continue to act. At the Moment of Truth, either the Vraxian hive rises up, or we'll all go down." "And what are you suggesting?" The third assessor asked the newcomer, his harsh breath releasing another puff of tobacco smoke. "I'm not suggesting anything, but He is. With the latest dispatches came this list. Everyone who is on it must go.” The bug threw a sheet of paper with a list of names on the table. One by one, the changelings read it. A short silence fell upon the room. "This... This is madness. There are too many heads, and their ranks... The game is not worth the candle. If we start removing them..." "Then we will be able to put our own in their place in time!" The military officer cut off his colleague again. "But then the enemy will have clues, they'll have leads, we could be compromised!" "We won't be compromised if everything goes smoothly!" The sedate and calm speech of the shapeshifters had abruptly turned into a strangled whisper. An argument began, not the first in these walls, and it wouldn't be the last. The most recently entered changeling stood up, and said softly: "Herren. We've already been compromised for a long time. You and I have no choice but to act. It is necessary to achieve our goals before they have time to do something about it. The Center cannot vouch for our lives and our money, but we all did this of our own volition. We knew what the costs would be, if anything were to happen... Perhaps we will become martyrs and lay our lives on the altar of Freedom. We need to be ready." The answer to this speech was tacit agreement. Everyone understood what was required of them and what was at stake. The times of simple covertness and easy life had passed… Kulex was gently trotting along the wide street of the Vraxian housing block, with his partner trotting alongside him. Blue uniform, black high cap with silver cockade, white belt. The two were a sight to behold, and the overall patrol today had been good: couples were going on their walks, and respectable Herrs were scurrying around with suitcases full of various papers. There were important changelings in the local apartments, with money and power. It was an area any police officer would want to be assigned for a pleasant and quiet evening. Crime in the hives was a peculiar thing. It was relatively organized, because petty criminals acting on their own would be caught quickly. The gangs would hide in the so-called "Underhive" - a massive network of catacombs going deep underground. Changelings had been buried there for centuries, and the underground passages became the abode of the dead. Nevertheless, this didn't frighten all sorts of rabble who found shelter there. Certainly, they could keep the police forces of the lower levels in suspense, here, they could steal, rob, even kill, but they rarely, if ever, climbed to the higher levels of the hive. And even then, mostly for the purpose of harmless pickpocketing. Crime in the hives was not perpetrated by a faceless crowd, it was just as well organized as the Vraxian hive authorities. The criminals' organization had rules, procedures, it was possible to negotiate with it. But all these inner workings and diplomatic dealings never left the desks of detectives and other important bigwigs. To the simple police officer, it was all a dark web of unknown passages and faces. Service on the lower levels and in the catacombs was extremely difficult and dangerous, so Kulex, who had already endured everything, especially appreciated the peace that was happening around him. "That's an evening," he said. "Yes, nothing has happened here today," his partner replied. He looked almost like a youngling, but in fact already had a considerable amount of experience in police work. "Just as much in the whole week, perhaps." "It's true. Nice job, you know. You are walking, strolling around, everyone bows to you. But do you know how it is in the Underhive? "It must be lousy." "That's not quite the word I'd use. It's a wild place. I served there for six months. We caught one dashing gang then." "And how?" "Well, it wasn't entirely successful. Their leader was like a gray fox. He abandoned his accomplices, he managed to run away from us. But we had almost all of them tied up there. So what's the use of that? Their elderman will run away, but without the rest of the gang, he'll have to show himself again, sooner or later. "Well, what about his accomplices?" "The usual scum, though determined. There's a full bouquet- murderers, pickpockets, robbers, and thieves. They had every trade covered, so to speak. And up until we caught them, they did very well, if you ask me. We'd been through a lot with them, and it's not the best thing to hang around in the catacombs. The Dead, you know.” "Are you afraid of bones?" Kulex chuckled. "And how wouldn't I or anyone else be afraid? We're the authorities up here, but those catacombs, that's their place, we are strangers and uninvited guests there. And for bandits, it's a real hornet's nest." "They have some kind of method, some kind of thought to their work, at least. There are things much scarier than ancient ashes and street thugs." The partner glanced at Kulex and said nothing, understanding what he meant. The clock on the wall struck eleven, but there were still passers-by on the street. Rumor and music could be heard from rare clubs and cafes, the door-drones standing at the entrances to buildings saluted the patrolmen as they walked by. The pair walked to an intersection, stood there for a while, then turned onto another street. Usually, it was quite a quiet place. There were apartments of various officials here. Their owners spent a lot of time at work, preferring leisure sleep, or a modest company of guests. Some locals went to restaurants and theaters, but there were few of them, as befits the highest levels of the administrative hierarchy. However, once here, the patrolers immediately sensed something was wrong. A large noisy crowd was gathered at one of the apartments. A heavy tension hung in the air. Kulex could feel his partner getting nervous. "I'll go get reinforcements and superiors, find out what's going on!" He shouted, and quickly galloped back. Kulex's eyes followed him with a meaningful look. "What kind of crowd is this? What could have happened in this place?", he thought. After a moment's hesitation, the policeman went forward. "Murder! Murder!" sounded a terrible voice. As he got closer, Kulex realized what was going on: a crowd of onlookers had gathered at the door to one of the apartments, still standing wide-open. No one, however, dared to enter. "By the name of the Queen! Disperse! What happened here?" Kulex said loudly, approaching the crowd. "Finally! Where the hell have you been!?" A changeling in a blue jacket accosted him. "Herr Antis and his wife were murdered! Murdered in their own apartment! How could this happen!? Who allowed this!?" "Calm down immediately!" The policedrone cut him off. Right now, he didn't care who was standing in front of him, no matter their rank or office. Now Kulex felt only anger as cold as steel. This feeling allowed him to act, overshadowing fear and indecision. He understood that this evening might become fatal for him, but he continued to fulfill his duty. "Who entered the apartments? Have you seen anything?" "I entered!-" A changeling in a simple gray jacket came out of the crowd. "I was the first one here, but by the time I arrived, they were already dead. The doorman of Herr Antis has locked himself in his closet and is afraid to come out, I think he's the murderer." He spoke these terrible words relatively calmly. When glancing at him, Kulex immediately saw in him "the colleague". He was clearly a retired military drone. "Hold that thought, Herr. This will be decided by the investigation. The main outfit will appear here soon, will you be present as witness?" "I will!" "Good. Stay here and wait for me..." The ex-military bug nodded, Kuleks addressed the crowd: "Herren and Frauen! Go to your apartments, there's nothing to see here!" And the servant of the law walked into the open doorway. The situation in the apartment did not show trouble at first. The policedrone went down the hallway to inspect each of the rooms, examining everything and trying to memorize every detail. Finally, he found himself in a large living room... It wasn't the first time Kulex had seen death, but the picture made him tremble still. Two mercilessly stabbed bodies lay on the floor, leaving terrible brown spots on the expensive carpet. The room was in complete disarray: furniture had been overturned, paintings were torn off the walls and thrown onto the floor, there were bloody streaks on the wide velvet sofa, and next to it, a blade glittered on the carpet. It hadn't any handle, maybe the killer took it off. It was narrow and long, like an awl. No frills, a simple working tool of the Vraxian gangsters. Kulex carefully walked around the room, trying not to touch important evidence. He had never seen anything like this, not even in the war. This terrible living room was one big bloody demonstration - a demonstration of cruelty and omnipotence, a demonstration of impunity and a bloody spit in the face of justice and the law. Kulex's wandering gaze rested on an expensive sideboard. In front of it lay a lot of broken shards and fragments: all the contents of this piece of furniture had been ruthlessly destroyed. Kulex came closer and stopped. Right under his hooves lay countless glittering fragments of broken crystal...