"Why didn't Trixie get a walkie-talkie?"
"Because you were late."
"But... but..." Trixie slammed her hooves down on the counter. "It was unavoidable!"
"No, it was not." Ician grunted half-heartedly. His attention was fixed on the computer screens. "You could have woken up three hours ago."
"She needed her beauty sleep!" She cried.
"Tough."
"She could have been later!"
"Yes, you could have. At least you got here before Squad A saw any action." His eyes never leaving the screens, he pointed at the tool-covered floor. "Do you remember what to do?"
"Of course Trixie does. She practiced for this!"
"Wow, you actually practiced. How unlikely." He snarked. "Now, get to work."
"How does she even get in?"
"Climb over the counter, obviously. There's no other way."
"You couldn't have installed a door?"
"I have my reasons."
"Uh huh." With an undignified huff, she swung herself into the workspace and landed on the floor. "Ouch."
"Make yourself comfortable... somewhere."
"There's nowhere to sit!"
"Then make some space. Move a few tools around."
"Trixie thought you might have had a reason for keeping them in this exact position."
"Not everything I do has a reason, you know." He jabbed his hoof at Trixie. "Now stop disturbing me, I'm trying to watch."
"Why?" Trixie snapped sarcastically. "Are you trying to make a movie out of it?"
"I'm not watching for entertainment. I'm watching to formulate strategy."
"Oh really?" She glowered. "Then tell Trixie, what strategy have you come up with?"
"The one that will win the game."
"Game?"
"The battle. It's the same thing."
"Is this a game to you?" She snapped.
"Yes." He replied bluntly. "Yes, it is. It's like a game of chess, to be exact."
"Why?"
"Why not? It's all about strategy. Chess, war... they're both games. And in neither is it good to lose."
"So it's all about winning to you."
"Yes." At last, Ician turned away from the screens and stared at Trixie. "I'm a tactician. It's my job to win."
"But... no! It's not just about winning!"
"Oh, come on. Of course it is. You don't go into battle expecting to lose."
"No, it's not only about winning!" Trixie argued.
"It's about winning with the least damage to yourself. That's another reason why I don't like chess." He picked up one of the hammers strewn about the floor and held it in front of Trixie's face. "In chess, you can afford to lose every single piece except the ones you use to execute the final checkmate. Because after every game..." He dropped the hammer. "The board is reset. The pieces return.
"But in war..." With a grand sweep, he retrieved the hammer. It sported a new dent in the side. "... In war, the pieces don't come back. You're stuck with whatever you have left after the last game. And slowly," he released the hammer from his grip again, "you become worse off." He repeated the motion. A crack formed. "You'll eventually be too weak to fight again." He raised his hoof and smashed the hammer onto the floor. It split cleanly in two. "The pressure becomes too much to handle, and you crack. The army cracks. The nation cracks. You can't win war the same way you win chess."
"But the mercenaries respawn." Trixie pointed out.
"I know. And that's why being their commander is like going on a beach holiday." Kicking the broken tool away casually, he returned to his spot at the screens. "Even if I'm grossly outnumbered, I've got the Administrator's magic and respawn points at my hooftips. Not to mention that the changeling commander is pretty incompetent."
"So... you can win this?"
"Yes."
"With no casualties?"
"None that don't respawn."
"Then what are you waiting for?" Trixie demanded. "Win it already!"
"Can you win chess in a single turn?" He retorted. "Patience, Trixie. I will deliver the coup de grâce soon."
"When?"
"Soon." Ician repeated. "But not soon enough that you don't have to get to work right now!"
"There's nothing for Trixie to work with."
"Three... two... one..."
"Hey, Ician!" The BLU Scout burst in through the door. "Oh, and hi, Trixie."
"Got a new batch of exoskeletons?" He asked.
"You bet!" She emptied the contents of her satchel all over the counter. "A lot of 'em, too."
"Like I said, Trixie; to work."
"Aw." Trixie groaned.
"So, this is the place, huh?" Fal stared up at the monolithic central building. The shadows from before had gone, the place now bathed in the harsh rays of the afternoon sun.
"Yes." Protea called from around the corner. "The stairs are here. We'll get a pretty good view of the battle from the roof."
"It'll be hotter, too." He mumbled. "Anyone got some kind of cover?"
"Um..." Espia began. "... No."
"Suck it up." Protea said. "You're a Commander. If the mooks don't complain I don't see why you should."
"For goodness' sake, we're only Commanders because we've lived longer than they have." Fal snapped. "It case you haven't noticed, sunburn resistance doesn't improve with age."
"No, but resilience does." She countered. "Now stop dawdling and follow me. I have a base to capture."
"Whatever you say... Commander." He trotted up the stairs. "Do you see anything from up there?"
He didn't expect the confusion in her voice. "Wait... this can't be right."
"What can't?" He reached the top and stared down. "Oh."
"Didn't we just fight our way past this?" Protea asked.
"I'm pretty sure we did." He turned around for a quick glance. "Yes, yes we did."
"So why is it here?"
"Really, this shouldn't surprise you."
"Why not?"
"Because we're fighting the Administrator."
"Oh." She sighed. "Right."
"So, what are you going to do?"
"I don't know." Protea frowned. "We could be chasing a red herring. But these are the only defenses for miles around. He couldn't be hiding anywhere else."
"There's always illusion magic." He pointed out.
"We are the masters of illusion magic. If there was something hidden around here we'd know."
"I certainly hope you're right." Fal murmured, looking out over the battlefield. "Otherwise, if this is a decoy..."
"It is there." Protea cut him off. "I'm sure of it."
But whether it's your mind or your pride that's telling you that, I don't know. He studied Protea's face carefully. Her eyebrows were furrowed, her jaw raised, and her eyes were blazing with the determination of a starving predator fighting for its meal.
But it wasn't a determination to save the changelings, he knew that. It was a determination to please the Queen. And to what lengths she would go...
"Very sure?" He asked.
She hesitated. For a split second, uncertainty flashed through her eyes. And then it was gone, just as quickly as it had appeared.
"Yes." She announced. "I am sure."
"Then all that's left is to win." Fal replied. He turned back to the fight.
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the uncertainty return to Protea's face.
"Ugh..." The world swirled back into focus. Twilight was back in the little respawn box. She sat up.
"Welcome back." Somepony said coldly.
"Huh?" She shook her head and blinked the last few spots away. "Oh. Hello, Pinkie."
"For the last time, I'm not Pinkie!" She thundered. "I'm Pinkamena!"
"Oh my Celestia." Twilight groaned. "This again?"
"Yeah, because you don't seem to get it." She pressed her hoof into Twilight's chest. "You keep calling me by her name. But I'm not her!"
"Look, I don't know what crazy things are going on right now." Twilight snapped. "All I know is that there's a battle we should be getting back to. We can talk this over after the fight's over."
click
"Wait, what's that?" Pinkamena asked.
"Beats me."
"Well that didn't work..." A female voice - Screwball, I think - drifted up from outside. "Hey, who's in there?"
"Me, Twilight!" She shouted. "Me and Pinki-" Her eyes met Pinkamena's. "... I mean, Pinkamena."
"Oh. Could you help me to tempt fate, please?"
"Alright." She cleared her throat. "Gosh, I don't suppose the floor is going to open up right under our-"
click
She grinned. With a grand flourish, her wings shot out from her side, spread in a glorious display of majesty, brilliance, and lack of flying experience.
Wait a-
"Oof!" She hit the floor stomach-first. The collision knocked the wind out of her. She collapsed in a heap. "Ouch..."
Beside her, Pinkamena landed gracefully on all fours and dusted herself off. "Thank you, Screwball."
"No problem." Screwball flashed them a quick smile. "Now come on, Ician wants to talk to the both of you."
"We should be going back to the front lines." Pinkamena snapped.
"Squad A's already holding the line. And Ician is your commanding officer, so..."
She growled and ground out, through clenched teeth, "We'll be there."
"Very soon." Twilight added.
"Alright." Screwball waved and trotted away. "See you later."
Pinkamena snarled. "One day..."
"Let's not waste any time." Twilight led the way, trying to remember which route to take. "Left... I think?"
"Oh, I give up." Pinkamena groaned. "Diana, take over until we get back to the fight, please."
"What?" Twilight asked. Diana?
"I said please! What more do you want?"
Frowning, Twilight turned around. "Pinkamena? Are you alright?"
"I'm not talking to you!" She snapped. And then, she closed her eyes and took a deep breath. "Sorry."
That didn't sound apologetic at all. "What do you mean?"
Pinkamena sighed, blinking her eyes open. "Thank you."
"Huh?"
A sudden whoosh of air startled Twilight. The tangled, puffy curls of Pinkamena's mane straightened out all at once, spilling down over her cheeks. Her tail followed suit. The angry and emotional eyes closed again, and when they opened a very familiar set of ice-cold irises met Twilight's.
"Pinkamena?" Twilight began.
"It's Diana, now."
Almost imperceptibly, the unicorn's right eye twitched. "I'm lost."
"Not for long, I don't think so." Diana gave her a reassuring nod. "But of course, we shouldn't be wasting time, should we? Ician is waiting for us."
"Right..." Twilight blinked. It's as if she just became a totally different pony!
"Why the confused look?"
"Huh? Oh, um..."
Diana chuckled. "You think I'm strange, don't you?"
"... Yes."
"I have no doubts that Ician will explain it all soon. Perhaps after the battle is over." She shrugged. "If he doesn't, I will. I think everypony needs to know."
"I think," Twilight said wearily, "that everypony needed to know a long time ago."
And a stitch here, and one there. Perhaps if I use a blend of cerise and-
"Rarity. Rarity, can you hear me?"
She snapped back into reality, blinking away her thoughts. "Yes, I can."
"Good." Ician's voice was a mere whisper. "Where are you?"
"I followed the commanders onto the roof of the first central building."
"What are they doing now?"
"Discussing strategy."
"How many of them are there?"
"Five."
"Alright. Let me see..." There was a brief pause. "Take... six steps to your right."
"If you say so..." She followed his instructions, keeping her eyes on the changelings.
"Are the commanders' backs turned to you?"
"Yes."
"Reach out your right hoof."
"Okay, but-" She stopped. Something firm, something hard, brushed against her hoof. A translucent blue aura manifested itself to her right.
Her breath quickened. In a flash, her hoof was back by her side, driven by years-old instincts. She looked up, panicked, hoping that the changelings hadn't spotted her.
She was in luck. They were still absorbed in their conversation.
"Ician!" Rarity hissed. "What was that for?"
"Now both of you know exactly where the other is. I expect you to move with absolute synchronization when I give the code phrase."
"You could have just told us!"
"Maybe, but you wouldn't remember as well."
"Why, I ought to..." She took a deep breath, trying to calm herself down. "Never mind. Please, next time, try to cut down on the surprises."
"Fair enough." With a soft click, Ician disconnected himself from the walkie-talkie.
Rarity sighed. She resumed her quiet observation of the changeling commanders.
"Very sure?" One of them, whose name Rarity believed was Fal, asked.
There was a brief pause before the one named Protea replied. "Yes. I am sure."
"Then all that's left to do is win." Fal said, turning his attention to the battlefield.
Protea looked away from him, uncertainty in her eyes. She mouthed a word silently.
A word? Rarity frowned. No, a name...
click click click
"Ician?"
"Yes, Trixie?" Ician asked distractedly.
"Trixie wants to know what the clicking noise is."
"Hm?" His eyes brightened slightly as he became dimly aware of the sound. "Oh, I see. Rarity's trying to contact me."
"Are you going to answer?"
"Of course I am." He reached over to a button on the side of the counter and pressed it. "Yes?"
Rarity's voice came from the other end. "Sorry to disturb you, but I needed to know if this is something important."
"What is?"
"Do you know who Theria is?"
"Theria?" Ician turned to Faye. She gave him a noncommittal shrug. "No idea. Do you know who she is?"
"I don't know either."
"Hey!" Trixie exclaimed. "Why did nopony ask me?"
"Okay then." Ician said dryly. "Who is Theria?"
"I don't know."
"And that's why I didn't ask you." He shifted his attention back to Rarity. "How did you come across this name?"
"One of the commanders mouthed it. Protea, I believe."
"Intriguing." He mused. "Could I ask-"
screech
Ician scrambled for the mute button. He fumbled around for a couple of seconds, momentarily lost, before he finally found what he was looking for and slammed his hoof down on it.
Disaster hopefully averted, he turned to the source, frowning. Twilight and Diana stood at the doorway.
"Please, knock next time." Ician hissed.
"Hello, Twilight." Trixie's eyes narrowed. "And Diana."
Diana ignored her. "Sorry, we didn't think it was necessary." She strode in, a cocky grin on her face. "After all, we wanted to obey to your order with all due haste."
"Diana." Twilight gave her a warning look.
She sighed. "Fine, fine, alright, We'll remember to knock in the future."
"Thank you. Give me a moment, please." Ician pressed the mute button again. "Sorry about that, Rarity. Have you been discovered?"
"Not yet." She whispered crossly. "I think they assumed that was some kind of battle noise. But I wouldn't push our luck."
"Agreed."
"What was that, at any rate?"
"It was..." His eyes flickered momentarily to Diana, and then Twilight. The former stared at him expectantly. "... nothing important."
"Well, if you say so." Rarity said sceptically.
"Goodbye, Rarity." He muted the conversation again and turned back to the two mercenaries.
"So, what was it you wanted to tell us?" Twilight asked.
"Nothing. I just have something to ask you." Ician looked at Diana. "Do you think you know what my plan is?"
Diana eyed him critically. "I can't say."
"Are you afraid that you're wrong?"
"No." She answered. "I'm afraid that I'm right."
Ician raised his eyebrow, curious. "How can you be afraid to be right?"
"I'm not afraid of being right. I'm only afraid of saying the right thing."
"... What?"
"It's a somewhat irrational fear." She explained. "But according to Pinkie, an unspoken plan is guaranteed to work, while a plan explained is destined to fail."
Ician was nonplussed. "That's only true in a work of fiction."
"Pinkie keeps insisting that we are in one." Diana said. "I used to be sceptical of it, but lately it's been working in my favour."
"When, exactly?"
"During the interviews. The Administrator kept saying that he wanted to be 'offscreen' when he told me what to do. I guess I know what he meant now."
"... Uh huh." Ician gazed at Twilight. "Alright, second question."
"Go ahead." Twilight said.
"I need to know if you're agreeable to this."
"Okay, what is it?"
"I'm-"
"- not going to say it." Diana cut in. "Remember what I said about the unspoken plan guarantee?"
"And remember what I said about it?" Ician countered. "Only in works of fiction, Diana."
"It never hurts to be safe, does it?"
"But then how am I going to ask Twilight if she's alright with what I have in mind?"
"There are two ways." Diana replied. "One, whisper it into her ear. The audience can never hear that."
"Or...?"
"Or you can tell her the vague details and leave the audience guessing."
"Which is better?"
"Both are fine. But allowing the audience to guess tends to make them happier if they get it right, or astounded at your brilliance if they get it wrong."
"One more question." The knowledgeable look on Ician's face cleverly disguised the fact that he was almost completely lost. "Who is the audience?"
"If the Administrator is to be believed, they are 'hairless apes from another dimension'."
"Ah." He nodded, careful not to let the bewilderment show.
Trixie had no such reservations. "What?"
"Hold on." Diana paused. "Pinkie would like to argue that they do, in fact, have hair, but it is short enough that on first glance, it looks like there's none."
"We're detracting from the topic." Ician snapped. "But I'll indulge you this once, if only because I feel that we've wasted too much time arguing about this already."
"Fair enough." Diana smirked.
"So, Twilight..." He considered how to phrase his question. "... Suppose I had a plan."
"You always do." She remarked.
"Yes, but suppose I had this particular plan." He continued. "I want to take some unnecessary risks to achieve an end result inconsequential to this battle but greatly beneficial to our odds of claiming victory in this war."
"... Uh, come again?"
Ician sighed. "What would you say if this plan wouldn't help us win the battle, but would rather make our chances worse?"
Twilight frowned. "Why would you have such a plan?"
"Because it helps us win the war as a whole."
"How is that supposed to work?"
"Just as an analogy... say I wanted some enemy intelligence. In order to get it, I'd have to weaken our front line defenses by splitting our forces. But this intelligence would help us win the next two battles."
"Would we still be able to win that- I mean, this battle?" Twilight asked.
"Odds are, yes."
"Odds..."
"Four out of five. Down from nine out of ten."
Twilight cocked her eyebrow. "That high?"
"Numbers don't lie."
"Well, that seems pretty decent. I don't see why not."
"But," Ician added, "what if somepony has to die in the process?"
"So long as it's not Twilight!" Trixie shouted.
"We have respawn points, Trixie. It wouldn't matter."
"So, you're fine with it?" He asked.
Twilight shrugged. "I don't see why not."
"That's all I needed to know." He smiled smugly. "Just one last thing."
"What?"
Ician gestured to his computer screens. "I want you to watch this."
click
"Rarity, can you hear me?"
"Yes, Ician?" She whispered back.
"Say goodbye to them now."
Rarity froze. Slowly, she looked up, towards the cabal of changeling commanders watching the battle intently.
Beside her, the soft tap tap tap of hoofsteps signaled the BLU Spy's departure. She cast one last look at the group, and then followed suit.
"How many troops do we have left?" Protea questioned.
"Ah... I'm not sure." Fal pondered. "But we've already lost a fair number."
"Almost a thousand." Shifter supplied.
"That's a lot." Gran grunted.
"I wish..." Espia sighed. "So many casualties..."
"Such is the way of war." Protea said. "But what worries me more is that we have yet to win. I don't even know how many more copies of this place there are left before we reach the Administrator's base."
Fal snapped, "Well, I think-"
There was a pause.
"Fal?" Protea asked.
"Excuse me, Commander Protea." Said a voice that was clearly not Fal's.
Protea spun around, fangs unfurled. Behind her, a frantic RED Spy hammered on a device hooked on her side. A BLU Spy, to her side, was doing the same.
"Ician!" The RED Spy screamed.
"Sorry, Rarity. But this is part of my plan."
"What?!" Protea snarled.
"Oh yes, Commander Protea." The voice addressed her. "Look down."
She did. "Am I supposed to be looking at something?"
"The dead bodies of your fellow commanders, if they weren't killed with a Your Eternal Reward."
"I... you!"
"Such is the way of war, isn't it?" He said cheerfully.
She was shocked speechless. Her mouth opened of its own accord, mouthing words she didn't know. She trembled with rage.
"Nothing to say?"
At last, she found her voice. "How could you?!"
"Did you think you were winning?" He asked amiably. "I suppose you never saw me change the game we've been playing."
"I'm going to kill you!" She screamed.
"Fair enough." The voice said. "I'm afraid that you'll have to get to me first, though. My Spies happen to be in the way."
Fury flashed through her eyes. "Nothing can stop me. Nothing!"
"Then prove it." He taunted. "Defeat the both of them."
"I will." She snarled. "And you'll be next."
"I look forward to it." And then, he fell silent.
Protea stared the two Spies in the eye. Her hole-ridden legs twitched, half in anger and half in anticipation. It had been a while since they had last seen active combat.
Just makes things more interesting.
She let a predatory smile settle on her mouth, mere moments before a film of green smoke obscured the Spies from her vision - and in turn, her from theirs.
She heard two shots echo out in unison. Her legs folded instantly. She dropped to the floor like a lead weight, the two bullets rocketing mere millimeters above her head.
The smoke faded, her transformation complete, and she stepped out into the light. The predatory grin was still there, but now on a different pair of lips.
The BLU Spy gasped. "Oh my Luna..."
Protea stretched her new claws threateningly. The feathered wings on her back, black as night, unfurled themselves to their full length. She snarled malevolently and bared her pointed teeth.
"Alright." The griffon growled. "Who wants to go first?"
Both Spies glanced at each other, shared a knowing look, and with unnerving accuracy fired their revolvers in tandem.
"Pathetic." Protea flapped her powerful wings, boosting herself upwards and away from the bullets. With outstretched claws, she turned in midair and propelled herself towards her enemies.
Both of them rolled away from her in separate directions. Protea angled herself slightly. She plowed into the BLU Spy with all the force and grace of a falling piano and ripped a long gash in her underside.
"Ah!" She aimed at Protea, her revolver shaking madly in her rapidly weakening magical grip. She fired once, but the shot went wild. Protea snatched the gun out of the air and pressed it into the Spy's muzzle.
"Any last words?" She hissed.
The Spy shook her head, her face contorted in an expression of fear.
Protea narrowed her eyes. "Give me a moment."
She stretched her wings and thrashed them wildly. Spinning around, she targeted for the RED Spy's face and shot twice.
The Spy was prepared to backstab, but not to retaliate. Her knife still in her grip, she only managed dodge the first shot - albeit with grace - but the second caught her in her right foreleg. She grunted, and the telekinetic aura around her knife faded. It returned stronger than ever, however, around the hoofgrip of her own revolver.
Protea wasted no time. She let loose another two shots and catapulted herself back into the air above her enemy, tossing the now empty gun off the edge of the building. Her wings readjusted, preparing her body for another sudden downward propulsion.
The Spy saw it coming. She ducked, neatly avoiding both bullets, and brought her revolver up. She fired twice; one for each wing.
Protea grimaced. As fast as she could, she tucked both wings firmly to her side. The bullets grazed her primaries, but otherwise missed her completely.
She kept her wings shut and let gravity do the rest.
The Spy's eyes widened in shock. "Oh m-"
crash
Her legs pinned the Spy down under her. Her right talon wrapped itself firmly around the Spy's neck. "It's over."
"No." The RED Spy gasped. "It's not."
Protea brought her remaining claw up and slashed the BLU Spy, who had crept up behind her, across the face. The unicorn howled in pain and collapsed.
"Now," she growled dangerously, "it's over."
The RED Spy sighed. "So it is."
"Too bad, then," Ician's voice came from the Spy's walkie-talkie, "that she will respawn but your fellow commanders won't."
Protea laughed harshly. "Do you think I cared about them at all?"
"Perhaps not all of them... but none of them?"
The answer seemed obvious. Protea was about to deliver it, but a sudden bout of uncertainty held her back.
"I'll take your silence to mean that you do."
"Give me a moment." With a quick motion, Protea snapped the RED Spy's neck. She turned around and, wrapping her claws around the BLU Spy's neck, did the same.
"Now that you've given yourself time to think," Ician continued amiably, "what's your answer?"
"I don’t care.” And to her surprise, she found that she meant it. She swallowed, not sure of what that implied, and soldiered on. “Did that even need answering?"
"Evidently, yes." He chuckled. "Oh, and yes, have fun."
click
Protea stared blankly at the communicator, wondering what he meant. And then everything hit her at once.
Espia. Shifter. Gran. Fal. They're all dead. She turned, slowly, back to the raging battle. I'm the last Commander.
... What now?
For a full minute, she watched the battlefield silently. No thoughts, no panic, no fear, no anger. Just emptiness.
"Ician," she said quietly, "I hope you're listening. Because..." Her eyes narrowed.
"If you have any loved ones, say goodbye to them now."