Kera threw a look over her shoulder, fidgeting with each sashaying step that she took through the throne room.
“Is something the matter?” Eine gently asked, glancing back at her.
“Er... no. Not really,” Kera muttered, fussing with her skirts.
“If you wish for me to summon your advisor for our ensuing conversation, I can bring him in from the guest chamber...”
“I'm fine without him. It's just...” She cleared her throat. “Exactly what kind of a conversation are we having, anyways?”
“Personally, I was hoping for a continuation of the one we had yesterday,” the Prince said. “It remained on the forefront of my mind all night, to say the least.”
“Okay, lemme ask one question.” Kera's tattooed brow furrowed. “Why the act, huh?”
He pivoted about and looked at her. “Hmmm?”
“Y'know what I mean!” She frowned. “The whole 'caterer's son' schtick! You were leading me on the whole time! Why?”
“When it was evident to me that you had lowered your facade, I realized I was getting your complete and unmitigated personality.” Eine smiled serenely. “Including the truth that you had to express with such.”
“Buh?”
“Please. If you had known that I was the actual Prince of Val Roa, would you have told me what you did and so liberally?” He raised an eyebrow. “Or would you have put on airs, wedging a blockade to communication between the two of us?”
Kera chewed on the edge of her lip. “Erm...”
“You're not the only monarch who suffers from the need to allow eloquence to take the place of substance,” Eine said. “If nothing else, I considered yesterday a very educational and enriching experience. Besides...” He gestured with a tiny hoof. “I'm still very much intrigued by the knowledge you had to impart. Perhaps you can tell me more.”
“Uhhh...” She gulped. “About what?”
“About this metamorphic conspiracy that you and your fellow Xonans are so adamant about uncovering.”
“Erm... eheheh... uhhh...”
“I mean, it is all true...” He raised an eyebrow. “Isn't it?”
“Oh! Totally!”
“Do I detect some cautious hesitance?”
“Well, I-I mean... what do you wanna know?” She winced. “Er... Your Highness.”
The fawn chuckled slightly. “Well, chiefly, who do you really... truly suspect is this 'changeling monster' in disguise?” He cocked his head to the side. “'Chrysalis'... was it?”
“Uhhhh...”
“Anyone I know, you think?”
“Anypony acting suspicious?” she threw his way. “Or... erm... anydeer?”
Eine took a deep breath. “Quite possibly...” He gulped. “But I didn't want to be drawing conclusions. That's why I'm seeking your wise counsel, just like you gave it yesterday.”
“Right...” Kera fidgeted, trotting past him. “Wise... c-counsel...”
“Are you uncertain about your suspicions?” he asked. “If it's a truly legitimate threat, then it could be of great risk to me and this kingdom. For Val Roa's sake, I would like to investigate as swiftly as possible.”
“About about the Coronation?” Kera turned towards him. “You're getting one heck of a crown slapped onto your noggin' tomorrow. Isn't that gonna throw a wrench into things?”
“It's the least of my concerns if my kingdom is at risk.” He squinted at her sideways. “Are you simply... not certain about your convictions, Your Majesty?”
“No, it's... it's just that...” Kera grimaced. “It's complicated.”
“Do you not have a suspect?”
She gulped and bore a nervous smile. “I have several.”
Loud buzzing sounds echoed across the arid landscape of the Cartel. From a long distance, one could see scores of goblins raising mechanical platforms up vertical shafts that flanked the two enormous battleships inside their skeletal metal hangars. These lifts carried the skystone shards. With careful precision—and shouting various grunting commands at one another—imps in engineering gear rolled the enchanted crystals into place, fusing them to the inner chambers of each flying weapon. Welding instruments flickered and sparkled against an array of flashing red lights. One by one, the twin battleships hummed to life inside their holds, their new energy cores pulsating with intense mana.
Another platform lifted towards one of the battleships. With clattering limbs, Haman could be seen crawling his insectoid mech suit across a catwalk. He gave the vessel inside his hangar an approving glance. Shouting a few words to his subordinates, he then proceeded to walk on board, taking his place deep inside the humming battleship.
All of this, Roarke and Jex observed from hundreds of feet away. They perched on a rusted metal tower, overlooking the hundreds and thousands of bustling, laboring goblins between them and the two enormous hangars.
Cl-Clakkk! Roarke opened her helmet, revealing a pair of squinting blue eyes. “Hrmmm...” She sighed. “Any moment now, and they'll be taking off for the north,” she said. “No doubt to rendezvous with the third battleship and replace its steam power with skystone.”
“Should be within the next hour or two,” Jex said. He leaned on his crutch, wincing. “Looks like Haman's taking the Gamma vessel.”
“Why do you strike me as particularly unenthused about that?”
“It's the ship my crew is assigned to,” Jex grumbled. “I'm not too keen on sharing the same decks as the bastard who sliced me in half.” He shuddered. “I'm not too keen on this mission, period.”
“So you believe me when I say that it's only doomed to fail?” Roarke's eyes narrowed. “And that Saikano and the rest will simply betray the Cartel in the end?”
“All of my life, I fought for something like this to happen,” Jex said, his ears twitching. “For the Green Bandits to make a name for themselves on this continent. Since I was a tiny imp, I dreamed that we'd even rival the Lounge in technological prowess and strength. Val Roa always seemed to stand in the way. It was a pleasure to raid their villages and subjugate their citizens...” His sharp teeth showed. “The way they just loved to flaunt their luxury and prosperity in our faces. God damn dirty silver shuckers...”
Roarke simply raised an eyebrow.
Jex sighed, hangins his head. “But this is not the way. We're going in way over our heads.” He gulped. “This will carve a hole in us so deep that it'll never heal. It all starts with the fall of Haman. The power vacuum will be so great that the entire Cartel will implode. We'll be piecemeal slaves for the lizards to the west.”
“Sounds like poetic justice to me,” Roarke said.
“Oh shove it,” Jex grumbled, glaring up at her. “What do you know about goblin life? About our glorious history?!” He spat. “We weren't always the vermin of this plane, y'know! Somewhere... someplace... there exists texts... records that speak of our history... our prehistory.” He took a deep breath. “We once lived in a place where everything you touched and saw was more precious than silver. At some point, it was taken away from us, and we've lived in want of something better... something greater ever since.”
“Are you asking me to feel sorry for you?”
“No, I'm telling you...” He leaned forward on his crutch, growling. “Unless you have lived through the eye of a storm that's wrecked your civilization to ruins, don't pretend to judge the Cartel or what we're going through!”
Roarke stared lethargically into the distance. “... ... ...not a day goes by when I don't think about what would have happened if I stayed behind.”
Jex blinked at her curiously.
“Thinking about what would have become of my sisters if Roarke Most Rare had replaced Pestiferous in the end...” Her jawline tensed. “Would they have found themselves? Would they still be reduced to committing blind paracide in the name of some long-dead blood pact which never made sense in the first place?” Her nostrils flared. “Alas, I knew at the time where my loyalties lie. And now, standing upon the edge of another implosion, what will I benefit by going forward? Only the best ponies benefit by constantly being on the move. But I think... I know... that I am not the best pony.” She slowly shook her head. “Not yet...”
“Leave this place,” Jex said in a dull tone. “There's nothing to profit from the Cartel. Not in joining us...” He slowly shook his head. “Not in plundering us.”
“I know,” Roarke said. She nodded. “Which is why I can't leave.” She looked over at him. “Not on my own.”
Jex blinked.
Roarke paced across the tower platform, ice blue eyes locked on the hangars from behind. “I must do what's in my power to stop these vessels from reaching their destinations.”
“Lady, you're just one pony.”
“Nonetheless.” Roarke turned and squinted at him. “I didn't come here to sight-see. I'm a pure instrument of death. You knew that the very moment you hid me aboard your transport.”
Jex gulped, then nodded. “Right.” He cleared his throat. “So where do you want me?”
Roarke blinked. “I beg your pardon?”
“There are two of us,” the imp said. He motioned with his one good arm at the closer hangar. “I'm already assigned to the Gamma cruiser. You could sneak aboard the other, do that explosive voodoo that you do so well while I try to pull my weight from my end.”
“You mean sabotage...?”
“If that's what you want to call it, then sure.”
“You do understand the implications of this...”
“Absolutely.”
“Do you?” Roarke trotted towards him, brow furrowed. “Lots and lots of goblins are going to die,” she said. “This is not a presumption. It's a guarantee. You will be conspiring with me to slay your own flesh and blood for the good of this continent.”
Jex breathed and breathed. “Look at us,” he grunted. “Look at me.” He held his prosthetic limb out. “You think I've only been hacked up recently?” He sneered, “My mother was an indentured servant who was bought out by a raiding tribe of rival Bandits. I was born out of rape to rape. I slew my own brother at the age of five with my bare hands. I slaved through mines and septic refineries for years. The most silver I've ever earned has been through trafficking and torturing helpless deer and ponies.” He sighed long and hard, his ears drooping. “I'm already dead. We all are.” He pointed at the hangars. “If there's a chance at stopping these damn things before they perform the will of some crazy monster inside Val Roa, then I'm totally on board. Anything I can do to reboot my sniveling race is the single drop of goodness I can hope to cling to. I can't promise I can kill as much as you, but maybe I can still lend a hand... even if I'm the only goblin left on this earth with one left to give.”
Roarke stared at him. Eventually, she nodded. “Very well, soldier. You're recruited.”
“Don't patronize me,” he grunted. “It's quite likely we'll both end up dead before we accomplish anything.”
“Indeed.” She paced past him. “I didn't have any silver to pay you anyways...”