Pony Effect

by Grif


Intermission 3

[Zakera Ward, Citadel]

The Citadel. The teeming hub of galactic civilization in the Milky Way, where everypony could come and live the great Citadel dream.

Not that it mattered to the pony who stood at a secluded corner of the 34th floor of Zakera Ward. He glanced warily at the crowd teeming all around him, the portable camera drone hovering silently behind his back. Dressed in a plain black leather coat, he stuck out rather conspicuously amongst the colourful crowds of ponies, turians, salarians, and asari. At least no one gave him a second glance; stranger beings had walked these streets after all.

“I hope the dumb blonde comes by soon. I paid good credits just to get information on her whereabouts,” he grumbled under his breath.

Fortunately, his prayers were soon answered. Through the thick of the crowd, Khal spied his target striding into view together with a sky-blue C-Sec pegasus. He frowned. Drat. Didn’t realise she was going to be here together with that loud-mouthed C-Sec agent. Wait a minute, that might actually work in my favour... A smile slowly lit his face. Khal wouldn’t have gotten to where he was without aces up his sleeve.

His inner trepidation settled, Khal Al-Jilal emerged from the alcove and called out, “Gunnery Chief Applejack? May I have a word with you?” His camera drone’s lamp shone in their surprised faces—a tactic Khal hoped would disorient them and keep them off balance.

“What in tarnation? Git that off mah face,” Applejack cried, her hooves pushing the drone off.

Rainbow was quick to poke Khal in the chest. “Hey! Don’t make me arrest your butt.”

Khal quickly interjected in a smooth voice, “My apologies, ma’ams. It was the only way to get your attention.”

“You could try... y’know, askin’?” Applejack grumbled. She blinked a few times, before turning to regard Khal fully. Her green eyes seemed to conceal a rustic sort of cunning, the type that would give lip to anypony who crossed her. Khal suddenly had a feeling this might prove more difficult than expected. “Anyhow, always happy to be of service. What can we help ya with?”

Khal gave a short bow. “My name is Khal Al-Jilal from the Equestrian—”

“Khal Al-Ji-what?” Rainbow stifled a snort. “What kind of name is that?”

“I beg your pardon?” Khal said, a little miffed that he was so rudely interrupted by this buffoon.

Applejack, to her credit, seemed to have retained some tact. “What Rainbow means here”—she shot her compatriot a sharp glance—“is that it doesn’t seem like a proper pony name. Were ya born on a non-pony world?”

Khal-Al-Jilal huffed. “Well! I’ll have you know that I was born on the jewel of the Equestrian Federation: New Unicornia.” He ran a hoof through his finely styled mane. “A modern name to suit these changing times—rather more respectable than the stale old naming tradition that dates back to our grazing years, I say.”

Rainbow Dash broke into helpless giggles, tears streaming down her cheeks. “Tch... bwahahahahah!” She collapsed on the floor, laughing.

Beside her, Applejack brought a hoof to her lips, chuckling as well. “Ma’am, ain’t nopony call New Unicornia th’ Jewel of Equestria no more. Least, not ‘round these parts.”

Khal was stunned. “Everypony knows New Unicornia!” he said, his lips trembling slightly. “How ignorant you louts are to—” Khal cringed, his words trailing off.

Rainbow stopped giggling, and pinned Khal with a glare. “Who you callin’ a peasant, huh?” Her magenta eyes narrowed. “Hold on a minute. Aren’t you that reporter dude who wanted to make Twilight look bad?”

“Who now?” Applejack asked.

Khal was suddenly aware of how intensely the two were studying him. All he intended to do was hammer the dumb blonde until she admitted to some indiscretion of the captain’s, imagined or not. It should have been a simple quick in-quick out, but things were starting to look complicated. Time for Plan B.

“Oh, that was just a slight misunderstanding between myself and the commander. It’s really nothing to be—”

Rainbow poked Khal’s chest. “Twilight said a reporter was out to smear her reputation. She didn’t exactly say who, but she did say he had a weird name. I guess that means you.”

Applejack’s eyes flashed with sudden anger. “Why I oughta just—”

Time to pull out his trump card. Khal puffed his chest out and tried to look unintimidated. “Now, I warn you: I’m a member of the press. Any acts of violence against me will be severely punished under Citadel laws.” Sparkle’s random act of violence notwithstanding, C-Sec tended to look unfavourably on those who assault members of the press.

To his delight, Applejack bristled, muscles tightening beneath that orange coat. That’s it. Get angry. Show the galaxy that you’re yet another dangerous maverick who needs to be brought under control. Oh, the spin I can put on this! Sparkle’ll have a fit.

Then the C-Sec pony ruined everything. Rainbow put a hoof on the earth pony’s shoulder and said, “Woah there, AJ. Why are you letting this punk rile you up?”

Applejack subsided and contented herself with a good old murderous look. “Rainbow, let me just have one good buck at ‘im. I promise he won’t have any broken bones... mostly.” Khal did a second-take on that well-toned flank and shapely hindlegs. He suddenly had a feeling Applejack might just be understating things.

“And get arrested by C-Sec afterwards?” Rainbow took to the air and folded her forelegs around her chest. “Listen AJ: I like you, but I can’t go around ignoring a blatant case of assault like that. Don’t do it.”

“This snake is out to make Twilight look bad. Are we s’posed to go on as if nothin’ happened?”

“No.” Rainbow gave Khal the evil eye again. “But that doesn’t mean we can go around breakin’ the rules. You know how much trouble we got into the last time we did that.” The two shared a knowing look.

Khal tapped his hooves impatiently. This was not at all going as planned. No dirt on the good commander and no spectacle to make up for that disappointment either.

Applejack straightened herself. “You just stay clear of us,” she declared in a low, menacing voice. Her green eyes glittered with dangerous intent. Khal swallowed hard. The warning was crystal: this was not a pony he would cross.

“Good. Have a nice day now, y’hear.” She doffed her stetson hat and waved for Rainbow to follow. The two disappeared back into the crowd without even a single glance back.

Khal let out a breath he hadn't realise he had been holding. That was too close.

***

[Equestrian Embassy, Citadel]

The normally busy office was silent, save for the soft sound of running water of the Presidium’s lake beyond the balcony. Commander Sparkle stood alone, facing the communication lectern, patiently awaiting for her call to be put through. Ambassador Lyra had been kind enough to lend her office for this private meeting.

Moments later, the hologram of Princess Celestia sprang to life. Twilight bowed deeply.

Celestia gestured for Twilight to stand. “No need for formalities, my dear Twilight. Now, what have you found so far?”

Twilight shook her head slowly. “My apologies, Princess. We have found no information to Princess Luna’s whereabouts.”

“I see.” Celestia hummed. “Regrettably, there have been no new developments here in Canterlot either. Whatever happened to my dear sister, there is no trace.” She sighed.

“That’s terrible, Princess,” Twilight said. “Do you think she’s been... kidnapped?”

“To be honest, I have no idea,” Celestia replied, her brow furrowed. “Luna is skilled enough that she could take on a small army should she choose to.” Twilight suspected Princess Celestia was understating things—the power of an alicorn monarch was nothing to be sniffed about. “I suspect foul play, but I know my sister. Even after all these years, she is still reserved and reluctant to trust. It is highly unlikely she would be led into a trap.”

“So... you mean to say she allowed herself to be captured?”

“That is indeed possible, though to what end, I do not know. Perhaps she sought to gain the enemy’s trust, or perhaps she had thought that this would be the best way to obtain further information. The geth and Saren are pretty elusive, after all.”

Twilight cringed. “But that doesn’t make any sense! She could have just sent somepony else to do it!”

“Luna can be very... headstrong at times. She firmly believes in doing things by herself if she deems it too dangerous for ordinary ponies.” The hologram sighed. “I think her experience with Nightmare Moon still haunt her to this day.”

“Princess, does anypony else know?”

“So far? No. I was very careful to keep news of Luna’s disappearance under wraps. However, some are beginning to question her absence in the Royal Castle of late. Such unfounded assertions are still that: just rumours.” The princess gave her one of her trademark cryptic smiles. “We are already encouraging those involved not to pursue the matter further.”

Twilight had a distinct feeling there was more to the “encouragement” than the Princess let on. She cleared her throat. “At any rate, we’ll continue looking. We’ll find her, Princess. I promise.”

Princess Celestia nodded. “I certainly hope so. If what you say about the Matriarch was true, then Luna may not have much time.”

Twilight suppressed a faint shudder. Being brainwashed like Benezia wasn’t a fate she would wish on anypony, especially not one of the co-rulers of Equestria.

***

[Tayseri Wards, Citadel]

“Hey, Garrus?” Spike asked.

The turian paused and looked to the dragon perched on his left shoulder. “Yeah, Spike?”

“Do you ever see... you know, griffons around here?”

Garrus scratched his chin in thought. “Griffons? You mean those weird half-bird, half-lion, half... something creatures?”

“Yeah, those guys,” Spike answered.

Garrus shrugged. “Some. Mostly when they get into trouble. They’re like quarians and krogans around here—mostly poor, homeless and struggling to find work. To be fair, they’re not as bad as krogans, but a lot of griffons are on C-Sec watchlists for being troublemakers.”

“Huh, I thought they would be more welcome. Y’know a griffon is pretty strong and all that. I’m sure somepony could use that.”

“So is a krogan or quarian. Don’t let those slender quarians fool you; they can still break your back if they wanted to.” Garrus grinned at Spike’s blanched expression. “Don’t worry. You’re in safe hands here. C-Sec, remember?” He tapped the badge on his torso.

“Oh, please,” Rarity interrupted before Spike could speak. “Don’t you think we should be discussing something more pleasant? Like— Ooof!” She turned her head and found herself nosedeep in a plume of feathers. “Watch where you’re going, you clumsy...” Her eyes widened as she saw just who she had bumped into. “Oh dear.”

Spike tried to salvage the situation. “Rarity, maybe you should—”

“What did that she say?” a deep voice boomed. Spike gulped as he looked at the owner of the voice: a massive griffon—the biggest he had seen yet. Grey and black plumes dominated his face, the visage marred only by a thin scar running down his left cheek.

“Something about you watching where you’re going,” a smaller griffon answered, moving to the first griffon’s side. Where the large griffon had dark grey plumage, the female griffon had an all-dirty white plumage crowned with red head-feathers—likely dyed. Behind her, another pair of young griffons—both with the same dirty white plumage—watched with mild interest. One was dressed in a black leather jacket, while the other opted for a more simple blue vest. Both were evidently well-worn.

“Is she trying to tell me what to do?” the scarred one demanded. Spike swallowed nervously again. The quartet of griffons seemed to press in closer.

Garrus quickly stepped forward, holding up his hands. “Now, now, gentlemen, I’m sure there is no cause for quarrel.”

The big one gave Garrus a scornful look. “No cause for quarrel, eh? Why don’t you tell that bitch to mind her own business?”

Rarity recoiled in disgust. “You uncouth brute! Somepony should rinse that filthy beak of yours with antiseptic.”

“Rarity! I don’t think this is the best idea!” Spike hissed.

“Nonsense, Spike. This is a civilised age we live in and, we should all hold ourselves to a higher standard of conduct, don’t you think?” Rarity seemed patently oblivious to the danger she was in, or that the massive griffon was bristling visibly.

The female griffon shifted her wings. Spike’s eyes widened as he glimpsed the tell-tale shape of a pistol holster. Garrus apparently spotted the holster too, because a moment later, his pistol came flying out, pointed directly at the female griffon.

“Paws where I can see them, wings folded behind your back. You know the drill,” he shouted. The quartet of griffon took a step back and reluctantly did as they were told. He waved his pistol at the female griffon. “You. Put that down that weapon on the floor. Slowly.”

The female griffon plucked the weapon from its handle-grip and slowly placed it on the floor. Garrus frowned as he went over and picked up the pistol with this free hand. It was strangely lightweight for its size; The material felt almost like plastic.

“It’s not a real weapon, you crazy C-Sec idiot. It’s something we picked up for ”

Garrus seemed a little disconcerted. He hefted the pistol and squeezed the trigger. Nothing happened. “Hmm, you’re right. Alright, fine.” He waved for them to lower their paws. “Just don’t... cause any trouble, okay?”

“We ain’t never caused trouble before. Why do you cops love to pick on us honest griffon folk?”

“Your ‘toy’ could have been a weapon,” Garrus said pointedly.

“Hah! As if you cops would let us touch anything that looks like a weapon to begin with. I can’t even bring my tribe’s ceremonial knife on board this station.”

Spike scratched his head. “Dude. It’s a knife.”

“But it’s a sacred relic of my family! My tribe has passed it down for generations, from the days of The Strife.”

“It’s still a knife,” Spike repeated. He shuddered to think what could the griffon do with a knife. “You can hurt ponies with it.”

The griffon rolled his eyes. “If I wanted to, I could have just gutted you three with my bare claws without breaking a sweat.” He narrowed his eyes at Garrus, who was staring at the griffon warily. “Don’t get your knickers in a twist. I’m not actually going to hurt anypony. Believe or not, I actually want to earn an honest living here.”

“Then why are you not?” Rarity asked.

“Because everypony here seems to think I’m good for nothing but hired muscle.” The griffon smiled, though his eyes remained bitter. “The only job offers I got were from gangs and mob bosses who needed warm bodies for their turf wars.”

Rarity blinked. “If you don’t have a job, where are you...”

“The second ventilation shaft behind the Liniments. It’s actually pretty comfortable once you get used to the downdraft.”

Rarity’s jaw dropped, her expression aghast. “How could you...” She quickly pushed her jaw up, recovering her composure. “How could you live like this?” she demanded.

“We make do.” The griffon shrugged.

Rarity raised a hoof, seeming about to protest, before thinking better of it. Her expression hardened. “I must insist you come with me now.”

“Say what?” The griffon looked at Rarity, then back at Garrus. “I’m not under arrest now, am I?”

Garrus gave a helpless shrug.

Rarity wrapped her magical aura around the griffon’s claws and started tugging. “No buts. You four: with me now. We’re going for dinner, and then we’re finding you some respectable clothing.”

***

[Dock 411, Zakera Wards]

Sweetie Belle knew it was a bad idea to come out here without telling anypony. Rarity had specifically forbid her from straying off into the unknown parts of the Citadel. But she was tired of being told what to do. She was seventeen this year! Besides, the mysterious message she got on the extranet was bugging her to no end. Besides, she wasn’t alone.

“Hey, Sweetie Belle, you sure this is the right place?” Scootaloo said, putting a hoof to her head and scanning the dock area. The two were standing in the shadow of one of the cargo elevator shafts servicing this particular dock. Automated drones, dockworkers, ponies and aliens scurried back and forth, each busy in their own business.

“Quite sure. The message said Dock 411.” Sweetie Belle answered nervously. “This is Dock 411, right?”

Scootaloo raised a hoof to indicate the large number imprinted on the dock wall. “Pretty sure,” she answered dryly.

“Huh...” Sweetie Belle scratched her head. “I wonder who sent the message. I mean, why meet us here?”

“Have you ever considered this might be a trap?” Scootaloo asked.

“Um...”

“Thankfully, I have this.” Scootaloo stretched out a wing and pulled out a pistol from somewhere beneath her uniform.

“Woah... where did you get that?”

“After Twilight stirred up the hornet’s nest back on Harnos and Therum, I thought we all could use some protection. So I got one off the Normaredy.”

Sweetie Belle eyed the pistol warily. “Are you sure that’s necessary, Scootaloo? We’re on the Citadel.”

“Bad things happen to fillies on the Citadel,” Scootaloo declared solemnly.

“You sound like a bad action hero.”

Scootaloo chuckled. “Okay, so maybe I stole that line from that movie...”

A familiar voice drifted over to their ears. “Oh, there you are. I been looking all over for you.” A young mare emerged from the crowds and stepped up to them with a smile.

Apple Bloom?!”

***

[Ambassador Lounge, Presidium]

Applejack settled down on her haunches, eyeing hungrily the fresh, frothy glass of cider placed in front of her. It had been so long since she had had time to enjoy a mug in peace. Even better, she managed to convince the stuffy asari doctor, Liara to join her for a taste. Rainbow, of course, never turned down an opportunity for cider, and Garrus seemed to have picked up his partner’s taste in drink.

Grinning from ear to ear, she raised her mug. “Bottoms up!” she declared, touching the rim of the mug to her lips. Just as the delicious froth teased her tastebuds, she noticed a pony waving at her. Strange, she seemed oddly familiar. Then the ball dropped.

Apple Bloom?!” she spluttered, nearly spilling her precious mug of cider.

“Hey, sis!” Apple Bloom greeted happily. She skipped up to her sister and wrapped her in a hug.

Applejack could only blink slowly. “Rainbow. I’m dreamin’, right? Please tell me I’m dreamin’,” she pleaded.

“Nope.” Rainbow said, grinning from ear to ear.

“She looks very real to me,” Liara added.

Applejack slowly wrapped her own forelegs around Apple Bloom. “Land sakes, Apple Bloom! What in the name of Celestia possessed ya to come all the way here?” she found herself saying.

“I was worried, Applejack! I can’t let you go off and fight those aliens alone. I want to help too!”

“Apple Bloom, what did I tell you to do on Harnos?” Applejack said, a tinge of exasperation creeping into her voice.

“Um... let’s see... stay safe...”

“And what do you think you’re doing here...?”

“Staying safe, of course! What’s safer than having my big sister here to protect me?” Apple Bloom wrapped her hooves tighter around her sister’s chest.

“Apple Bloom, we’re fighting to save to stop a race of genocidal robots hell-bent on attacking ponies for some reason. It’s not safe.”

“Are ya sayin’ staying on a distant, isolated colony is safer than travelling with you on one of the most advanced warship of the Alliance?”

Curse the irrefutable logic of younger sisters! “Well, uh...”

“I think she got you there, AJ,” Rainbow said with a chuckle.

“Alright, fine! Since you came all the way here, I’m leaving you in the care of Ambassador Lyra. There is no safer place than the Citadel.”

Applejack!” Apple Bloom cried.

Applejack frowned. “No buts, young lady. Yer in enough trouble already as it is.”

***

[The Flux, Zakera Wards]

“... and then I said, ‘Noooo, you can’t have a party without ginger beer! It just isn’t a party without ginger beer!’” Pinkie giggled-snorted, and flopped back in merriment. The booth shook a little.

Wrex chuckled lightly at Pinkie’s joke and sipped his glass of ryncol. By korgan standards, a sip meant a whole glass. “Personally, I prefer a party with a lot more real alcohol, fertile females and a whole load of head-butting.“

“Pffft. Wrexie, you don’t need those for a good time.”

“True, but they make it so much more enjoyable.”

Pinkie giggled again and pointed an accusing hoof at her krogan companion. “Naughty, naughty! You krogans all have dirty minds!”

“Hey, can’t blame a krogan for looking out for his own bloodline.” Wrex’s reptilian eyes twinkled with amusement.

The booth fell silent again as the two refilled their glasses: more ryncol for Wrex and ginger beer for Pinkie. The pink mare rolled her glass in her hooves before looking up at Wrex. “Wrexie... do you ever think of going back? You know, to Tuchanka?”

Wrex snorted. “Bah, that ball of dirt? There’s nothing left for me there.”

“Don’t you miss home? Friends? Family?” Pinkie pressed.

“I might. If I hadn’t been betrayed,” Wrex answered curtly.

Pinkie’s ears flattened. “That doesn’t sound very nice,” she said in a decidedly less cheery voice.

“It wasn’t.” Wrex gulped his drink. As he set down his glass, he noticed Pinkie putting on her best imitation of a puppy dog. Wrex sighed heavily. “You won’t stop pestering me until I tell you the whole story, huh?”

“Yep!”

Wrex eyed the entrance of the bar, weighing his options. Being a krogan, he’d likely outrun Pinkie in a straight sprint. Avoiding her was another matter altogether. It wasn’t a battle he’d win. “Fine,” he said with a resigned grunt.

“Yay!” Pinkie bounced up and down her seat happily. Then, she put on her best serious expression and leaned forward to listen. Wrex eyed her briefly, wondering again for the hundredth time what was going on in the pink ball of energy he called a friend.

“See now. I was the head of a small clan on Tuchanka. I—”

“I didn’t know you once led a clan, Wrexie!” Pinkie interrupted. “You should have told me! Think of all the parties we could have thrown with your clanmates!”

“Pinkie, there are some things I done in my life that would make you not want to be my friend. This is one of them. Even if that would save me a great deal of headache in the long run, I still like having your pink weakling ass around. Now do you want the story or not?”

Pinkie’s ears flattened and she subsided into her seat. “Sorry Wrexie, I’ll be good.”

“I was trying to help our kind recover. We were trying to restore order after the war. But the other tribes were against us. They followed Jarrod, one of the few warlords who survived the war. But he was old, and so was his idea. He wanted to continue fighting; the turians, salarians, each other. Didn’t matter who. But he didn’t realise how much things changed. We needed to be breeding, not throwing away lives by fighting. The genophage made sure that our numbers are too few to even consider fighting again, at least for one generation. For a while there, I was getting through. But Jarrod didn’t like my plans.” Throughout his monologue, Wrex’s voice retained a matter-of-fact tone.

“Ooooh. What happened?”

Wrex smiled thinly. “He arranged a Crush with the tribes—a meeting on neutral ground. He wanted to talk.”

“Talk?” Pinkie raised an eyebrow. “That doesn’t seem very krogan-y to me. You silly krogans just love to kill ponies and stuff.” She mouthed the last part with a grimace.

Wrex smirked. “There are some laws that even we krogans hold sacred. We met at the Hollows, on the graves of our ancestors. It’s as sacred as a krogan place can be. Violence was forbidden there. We talked, but we didn’t get anywhere. Then when he realised I wouldn’t join him, he gave the signal. His men leapt out of the graves of our ancestors like krogan undead. The few that were loyal to me died quickly. I escaped, but not before sinking my dagger deep into my father’s chest.”

Pinkie blinked. “Hold on. Just waaaaaaaaaait a minute,” she said slowly. Her eyes narrowed at the krogan. “Did you just say you killed your own father? As in kill kill?”

“Jarrod was a fool. He deserved to die after violating our ancestor’s graves,” Wrex replied simply.

“But killing your own father...” Pinkie repeated softly.

“We’re krogans, Pinkie. Death is part of who we are.” Wrex sipped his ryncol again. “Best get used to it.”

“Doesn’t mean I have to like it,” Pinkie said sulkily, pouting like a foal denied candy. An awkward silence fell on the booth. Just as Wrex thought Pinkie had given up, she brightened again. “Oh! Oh! Tell me how you escaped!”

“Escape?” Wrex snorted. “Pah. It was just a matter of hauling my sorry arse to Tuchanka’s only spaceport, commandeering a freighter off the planet and shooting some more of my father’s men on the way out. Nothing to it.”

“Aw. I’d thought you would be more like”—Pinkie began to mimic the sound of guns firing—“and then more, ‘Hey! Stop right there you criminal scum!’, shouting and”—she moved to demonstrate some choice wrestling moves of her own—”some really fancy moves to escape the dastardly krogans that were out to get you.” She ended with a critical eye on Wrex. “C’mon now, spill the beans!”

“Hey, now. I’m a mercenary, not some holovid actor paid to look fancy. I shoot, I kill, I move on. That’s all.”

Pinkie pouted again. “Aww... you’re no fun sometimes, Wrexie.”

“Business is business.” Wrex downed another glass of ryncol. His reptilian eyes settled on Pinkie Pie again. “Speaking of which, how did you know I was looking for my family’s ceremonial armour?” Wrex had been on a job on Ilium when he first stumbled on Pinkie Pie. Or rather, he had been accosted by the hyperactive pink pony. One destroyed park bench later, he was pleasantly surprised to receive his familial heirloom straight from the hooves of the mysterious pony. The two had been on good terms since, keeping in touch mainly through extranet and the occasional pastry service.

“My Pinkie Sense told me,” Pinkie said, giggling.

Wrex knew better than to question her preternatural sixth sense. “Well, you never did tell me how you got it in the first place.”

“Oh, it’s nothing really. See, I was just stopping by on Omega, when I saw this suspicious stand. There’s this turian who was selling this piece of krogan armour. I think his name was Tonn Actus. So I thought, hey, it looks cool as a party prop. But then he tried to cheat me of my bits, saying it’s now worth double thanks to me asking. I was like, ‘What? That can’t be right.’ So one thing led to another and kinda...” She tapped her hooves together. “... ended in a huge fire.”

Wrex whistled. “I hope that scumbag died a messy death,” he said.

“Oh, that meanie pants escaped. I think he had an aircar stashed somewhere. But at least I saved your armour.” Pinkie didn’t quite catch Wrex’s disappointed rumble. “Anyway, Aria wasn’t pleased of the damage the fire caused but I think I got all of that worked out now.”

Wrex perked up. “Aria? The Aria T’Loak?” he repeated with disbelief.

Pinkie giggled. “Oh, I just threw her a Sorry-For-The-Unexplained-Fire party! She seemed pretty happy after that. In fact, she was so happy that she asked some turian to get me the next ship to Ilium. It was pretty sad to leave Omega, but then again, Ilium had far better atmosphere. I think that was pretty nice of her.”

Wrex snorted, and shook his head. “Typical.”

***

[Arboretum, Citadel]

Khal Al-Jilal put a hoof to his chest to steady his laboured breathing. He took comfort in the fact that he was safe behind this gazebo for now. That was entirely too close. Who knew a shy pegasus like her would have such a... such a...

He shuddered to even put words to it.

He thought it would be an easy affair to tease information out of the shy one of the group. After all, she was just an emotionally scarred pegasus, while he was a full grown stallion complete with a certified press card. But no, she had to travel with that bitch of a quarian. His multi-thousand credit camera drone was now a smoking wreck somewhere in the arboretum. But that hadn’t the worst part. Oh no. It was those... those...

Those aquamarine eyes.

Khal quickly put that memory to rest. Sparkle could keep this psycho for all he cared. He most definitely wasn’t going to risk his soul just to get the scoop of the lifetime. No sir.

“Come out, little birdie. I promise I won’t hurt you...”

That voice chilled him to the bone. It was also just around the corner. Khal let out a small whimper as the sound of soft hooves trampling the grass hovered closer.

“I see you...”

Khal’s felt the colour draining out of his face. His skin crawled up his spine as he imagined those eyes again. He let out a high-pitched scream and ran forward wildly, no longer interested in hiding. All that mattered was escape.

Escape from those eyes.

***

Fluttershy watched the fleeing figure disappear into the underbrush of the arboretum. “Do you think I was too harsh on him, Tali?”

“That boschtet deserved every second,” Tali replied without hesitation. “He’s lucky I didn’t get my hands on him. I’d have made him regret he ever took up journalism.”

“Oh... okay...” Fluttershy scuffed the ground with her hoof, her ears drooping. She wasn’t proud of what she had done, but the rage...

She shivered. For the first time in her life, she was afraid.

Afraid of who she was.

Tali didn’t seem to notice her momentary introspection. “C’mon. Let’s go before that imbecile comes back waving his camera in our faces again.”

***

[Zakera Wards, Citadel]

Sprinkle’s Milkshake Bar was one of the major highlights of the Wards—according to the tourist guide Apple Bloom got off some salarian—which was why the three were now sitting in his bar, drinking his signature milkshakes. All things considered, it was still inferior to the Canterlot variety. The trio had retired to a quiet corner of the bar and spent the day reminiscing.

“I still can’t believe you travelled all the way out here just to join us,” Sweetie Belle said.

“Can’t just sit there on Harnos while you two go off on an adventure without me, can’t I? Besides, Applejack agreed,” Apple Bloom said. She took a long sip from her specially ordered milkshake—vanilla, sprinkled with a hint of cinnamon and cocoa. Just the way she liked it.

“She only said you can stay here. Not follow us around.”

“Hey, I’m a big pony now. I can do what I want!” Apple Bloom glared as her two friends snickered. Then she sighed, “Still, it’s been a long time since we gathered like this.”

“You mean since high school?” Scootaloo replied dryly.

“Yeah!” Sweetie Belle said. Then she frowned. “Wait, was that a trick question?”

Scootaloo snickered and leaned back, sipping her own chocolate milkshake. “Let’s just enjoy the moment,” she said quietly.

“Aw, Scoots. Yer no fun anymore,” Apple Bloom said.

Scootaloo shrugged. “Piloting a spaceship does that to ya.”

“Hey! I survived a mind-controlling plant on a remote colony.” Apple Bloom shuddered, her eyes distant for a moment. “Not something I wanna repeat.”

Sweetie stirred her own milkshake. “Say, Apple Bloom, did you ever find out what your cutie mark meant?”

Apple Bloom’s ears wilted. “No...”

“I guess it’s not a “Working In Far-Off Colony” cutie mark huh...” Sweetie Belle said.

“It’s a box, Sweetie Belle. I’m not even sure what th’ hay a box is supposed to mean.”

“Maybe it’s a box packer cutie mark?” Sweetie offered.

Apple Bloom huffed. “I tried that! It’s not it!”

“How did you—” Sweetie Belle did a double take. “Hold on, since when did you work at a box-packing factory? You never mentioned it before.”

Apple Bloom tapped her forehooves nervously.“Well, it was right before I went to Harnos and I... uh... sorta left...”

“You burned down the factory, didn’t you?” Sweetie deadpanned. It was a reasonable guess. The CMC always had a reputation for disaster after all.

“It wasn’t my fault!” Apple Bloom said defensively.

Scootaloo chuckled. “Sure it wasn’t, Apple Bloom. You just happened to trip over a wire or something, right?”

“H-How did you know?”

“I guessed.” Scootaloo calmly sipped on her milkshake as two pairs of eyes glued on her. “Also, there’s that report on the extranet about some freak accident on New Maretania that cost the planet nearly one billion credits. They even gave a detailed account of how it happened. Let’s see now: a filly with a blond mane and a yellow coat, was suspected to be involved.”

“Oh...” Apple Bloom looked even more downcast.

“You didn’t follow up on the fire, did you, Apple Bloom?”

“Why would I? I was kinda busy high-tailin’ out of there after my employer fired me.” Apple Bloom rolled her eyes. “We didn’t exactly get extranet on Harnos. Geth and plant monster thing and all that.”

Scootaloo snickered. “Then you’d love this. Turns out, he was running a highly illegal red sand processing operation just under his factory. Your ‘accident’ just happened to uncover the biggest red sand smuggling operation on the planet. The ‘one billion’ credits was from the drug cartels. They call it the best industrial incident to happen to the planet.”

“Hold on, wha...? So that dirty no-good lout was smuggling red sand right under my nose? That’ll explain all those time I caught him sneaking around...” Apple Bloom slammed her hooves together. “I can’t believe I missed that!”

“Ah well, at least it turned out well in the end, yeah?” Scootaloo offered.

“Yeah, heh heh.”

The trio went silent as they sipped on their drinks thoughtfully, letting the sounds of the teeming milkshake bar fill the air.

Scootaloo broke the lull. “You know, I don’t think Twilight is taking this well. She looks so... haggard now.”

“Yeah...” Apple Bloom said. Her green eyes stared into her glass. “I don’t know about you guys, but I can’t bear to sit around while Saren is runnin’ loose tearin’ up the galaxy. That Conduit of his sounds too dangerous for us to walk away like that.”

Sweeti Belle chuckled. “You’re beginning to sound like Tali.”

“Hey, it’s jus’ common sense. Where the hay are we s’pose to run if he takes over the galaxy?”

Sweetie Belle tilted her head. “Are you planning something, Bloom?”

“I was jus’ thinking... Maybe it’s time to reform the Cutie Mark Crusaders... Only this time”—Apple Bloom grinned—“we’ll be saving the galaxy!”

Scootaloo pushed her pilot’s cap back and whistled. “Now that’s an idea I can get behind. I think I still have the contacts of all the Cutie Mark Crusaders branches we formed.”

“And I still have our ceremonial tambourines!”

The weight of the ensuing silence was palpable. Sweetie shrank a little from the sharp glances the other two gave her. “What? I thought it was a shame to throw them away.”

Apple Bloom quickly shook her head. “Never mind that. Are we agreed?”

“Count me in!” Sweetie Belle said.

Scootaloo smirked. “I might be the most awesome pilot on this side of the galaxy, but I’m still a Crusader at heart.”

Apple Bloom held a big smile on her face. “Together, nothing can stop us.”

“CUTIE MARKS CRUSADERS, YAY!” they cheered together, clinking their milkshakes.

Apple Bloom rubbed her hooves together. “Now, I got a plan to sneak on the Normaredy without Applejack knowing...”

***

[Equestrian Embassy, Presidium]

Twilight stared at the sight of an entire platoon of guards blockading the entrance, their shoulder-mounted weapons pointed directly at the doorway. She just went to get a drink at the bar... How did things escalate so quickly?

One of the guard cantered up towards her and saluted. “Ma’am, we have a terrorist situation.”

“Let me take care of it...” Twilight sighed. She pushed through the line of guards that had formed around the entrance of the embassy, determined to get to the bottom of this latest disruption to her schedule. To her surprise, she found the source of the disturbance not to be some wild-eyed stallion asking for asylum, but rather, Rarity brandishing her weapon around.

Rarity lowered her gun as soon as she spied the commander. “Twilight! I’m so glad to see you. These ingrates just don’t understand Equestrian.”

Twilight quickly plucked the submachine gun out of her grasp and stowed it in her saddlebag. “Rarity, what manner of insanity possessed you to point your guns at our own embassy guards?”

“I told her it was a bad idea!” Spike’s voice said from under a potted plant.

“They wanted to arrest the poor griffons. I simply cannot allow such an affront to go unpunished.”

“Wait... what griffons?”

“Oh.” She gestured at the counter. “You can come out now.” Four feathered heads peeped out from behind. “This is Commander Twilight, captain of the SSV Normaredy and our very own pony Spectre.”

“Rarity, why are there griffons in the office?” Twilight asked, a twinge of exasperation in her voice.

“Oh, these poor dears have been living on the streets, Twilight—in the ventilation shafts no less. I couldn’t just let them be,” Rarity answered. She put a hoof to her head and sighed. “It’s really no place for any living creature to live.”

Twilight felt her eye twitch. She glanced at the quartet of griffons standing uneasily at the door then back at Rarity. She bit back the surge of anger that percolated in her mind. “Rarity, no offense, but we can’t possibly keep them here. This is an embassy, not a shelter for the homeless. If we started taking them in, we’d end up with half of the homeless population of the Citadel.”

Rarity recoiled in mock horror. “Why, I’m shocked, Twilight! Shocked! How could you possibly condemn them to the cold and wintry nights of the Citadel?”

Twilight rolled her eyes. “In case you didn’t know, the entire Citadel is maintained at a constant temperature. It’s quite unlikely anypony would actually freeze to death on this station. Also, there isn’t a day-night cycle in the Wards anyway.”

Rarity wasn’t to be deterred. “You know what I mean,” she offered with a haughty sniff.

“I do, and I don’t understand, Rarity...” Twilight turned her head towards the griffon and waved a hoof. “They’re aren’t exactly incapable.”

“Excuse me, Miss Rarity, but the purple one is right.” Twilight’s eyes widened as one of the griffons rose to his full height. He looked like one of those old buff griffon actors in one of those cheesy action movies back in Canterlot. He also looked more than capable of inflicting mortal wounds if he so wished. Twilight found herself tensing unconsciously.

“Wha—?”

“I may be poor and homeless, but I sure as hell ain’t gonna start begging now. The dinner was good and the... shirt”—he tugged at his masterfully designed suit, taking care not to rip the delicate fabric with his sharp talons—“is very nice, but I can’t take this. My clan’s honour demands that I repay you with equal value, and I simply cannot afford this.”

“Oh, but I paid for all that. You don’t owe me a single cent,” Rarity countered.

“Look, lady. I’ll be the laughing stock of the Ward if I accept your help. We got on fine without you and we sure as hell can survive with ot without your help.” The griffon winced, evidently realising his slip of tongue. “No offense,” he added belatedly.

Rarity did look somewhat offended, but her lips continued to smile. “None taken,” she said tightly.

Twilight decided to intervene. “Rarity. These are griffons. They have their own code of honour,” she said, glancing at the griffon. The griffon nodded back.

“I don’t see why they would refuse perfectly sincere gifts.”

“Well, see, they don’t like accepting free help. It’s abhorrent to them. A sign of weakness, if you will. Gifts, if accepted, must be reciprocated in kind. Otherwise a griffon would be regarded as a burden to the clan and risk being shamed and cast out,” Twilight explained. She tactfully refrained from mentioning that once exiled, lone griffons rarely survived for long in the wilds. Of course this all happened back before the rise of technology in Equestria.

Rarity raised an eyebrow, then turned to regard the griffon with a thoughtful expression. “Hm... so if I make you work for me...”

The griffon nodded slowly. “That would be acceptable...”

The smile on her face got wider, her eyes suddenly twinkling with renewed enthusiasm. “Perfect! I got just the job for you. Would that satisfy your honour?”

“What might this job be?”

“Shopping!” The griffon took a step back uncertainly. “You can be my personal assistant.” For a moment there, Twilight thought she spied a look of horror cross the griffon’s face.

***

[Zakera Wards, Citadel]

Khal Al-Jilal was fairly certain this time he would finally catch a break. By all accounts, the white unicorn, Rarity, following the commander around was a fashion fanatic. And from his experience, ‘fashion fanatic’ meant a ditzy lifestyle full of closet skeletons and embarrassing secrets. Perfect fuel to blackmail her into becoming an informer on Twilight Sparkle.

He rubbed his hooves eagerly as he spied the unicorn walk into one of the Zakera Ward’s premier departmental store: The Mirage. Khal quickly fell in step behind, using the crowd as a shield. He soon noticed a couple of griffons trailling not far behind. Odd. Such riff-raff normally did not enter such an establishment. Unless... Khal broke into a smile. Maybe there was more to this than he thought.

Rarity soon stopped at a clothing line and began browsing the dazzling fabric on display. So busy he was with trying to guess which fashionable ware Rarity was picking out that he didn’t notice two griffons walk up behind him.

“Hey, mister.”

Khal froze. He slowly turned towards the source of the voice, who turned out to be the biggest griffon he seen yet, towering over him. The glower the griffon was giving him was sufficiently intimidating to make him wonder if he crapped his exquisite suit or not.

“Uh... hi?”

“You seem to be taking a great deal of interest in Miss Rarity.”

“Thomas! What’s the hold-up?” a refined voice sounded in the distance.

The griffon looked behind him and pointed downwards at Khal. He followed his gaze and winced as Rarity walked towards them, a few bags filled with clothes floating behind her. His rump bumped into the muscular chest of the other griffon. Running appeared to be not an option he could use.

“And who might this gentlepony be?” she asked.

“Dunno. Seems like he was following you, though.”

Rarity’s piercing blue eyes studied Khal. “I think I recognise him. He’s that reporter that Twilight mentioned earlier.”

Khal groaned. “Do you all know me by appearances now?”

“Well, not everypony I know would come stalking me with a camera drone,” Rarity said with a demure flick of her eyelashes. Khal felt himself colouring slightly. By Celestia, this mare knew how to seduce a stallion. Then he felt his blood run cold as those beautiful blue eyes hardened. “I am aware of what you been doing to poor Twilight. Let’s just say I fully intend to repay the favour.” She smiled, showing a perfect set of sparkling teeth. “Boys, why don’t you... educate our friend here on the perils of misinformation?”

The griffon smacked his claws together. “With pleasure.”

Khal gulped. This was so not his day.

***

[Equestrian Embassy, Presidium]

“You did what?” Twilight exclaimed, her jaw dropping.

Rarity continued to file her hoof. “Oh relax, Twilight. It’s not as if we physically harmed him.”

“You just sent your crew of griffons to, I quote, ‘educate’, him. How can I not be worried?”

“They just told him that they’ll rip him limb from limb if he ever tried to approach any of us ever again.” Rarity blew her hoof and inspected it. “I must say, I quite enjoyed the show.”

Twilight pinched the bridge of her nose. “Oh, Rarity. I know you all are upset by his inflammatory reports, but really now, you could have just ignored him.”

“Nonsense, Twilight. Such abuse must not go unpunished. Lady’s dignity and all that,” Rarity declared with all the dignity she could muster.

“Ugh. Never mind that. Let’s just hope you didn’t scare him too badly. He could press charges, you know.” Twilight sighed and started pacing the room. This was bad. The fallout from this incident alone could set their mission back for weeks. “Maybe an apology letter...”

“No. You’re not getting me to apologise to that mule.”

“Well, you should have thought of that before siccing your griffons on him. Now we have to play clean up.” Twilight stopped in her tracks and looked around. “Say... where are they?”

“Them? Oh, I let them off after that. I only went along with the thing to satisfy their honour.”

Twilight narrowed her eyes. “That’s it?” she said.

Rarity shrugged. “That’s it. Oh, he did mention something about helping us keeping a tab on the reporter as well, but I thought he was just being polite. Thomas is such a nice griffon when you get to know him.”

“I sincerely hope your friend is as trustworthy as you think he is,” Twilight sighed.

The intercom beeped, jarring the two from the conversation. Ambassador Lyra’s voice came through, “Commander, the Council wants to speak to you.”

“Put them through, Ambassador.” Twilight replied.

Moments later, the communication lectern lit up. Only two councillors this time: the asari and the salarian. Twilight felt a sense of perverse relief at the absence of the turian councillor. She presumed he was off attending duties on his homeworld. Council members rarely go off-station after all.

“Commander Sparkle, we received information that might be critical to your mission against Saren,” the asari began, without preamble as usual.

“I’m all ears, councillor.”

The salarian councilor nodded. “We received an urgent message from one of our infiltration regiments in the Traverse.”

“Don’t you mean spies?” Rarity said, arching an eyebrow.

“Spectres tend to attract a lot of attention, but they are only one arm of the Council. Special Task Groups are often the better option for monitoring developing situations,” the asari councillor explained.

“We currently have several infiltration units stationed on the borders of Citadel space. This particular unit was gathering information on Saren.”

“What did they find?” Twilight said, her ears perking up.

“Unfortunately, the message that we received was garbled. The infiltration team must be in a situation where they can’t set up proper interstellar communications. But, the message was sent on a channel reserved for mission-critical information. Whatever they were trying to tell us, we know that it is important.”

“Considering your interest in Saren, we thought you might want to investigate. Find out what happened to our team. The signal originated from the planet Virmire.” Twilight turned and nodded at Spike, who began scrolling furiously on his PDA.

The asari councilor spoke again, “The Council prefers not to become involved in the specifics of Spectre activity. We only want you to be aware of all your options, including Virmire. Good luck, Commander Sparkle.” The holograms winked out.

Twilight turned to Rarity with a small smile. “Looks like we have our next mission, girls.”