//------------------------------//
// 4th January 2014 
// Story: Yes, Princess 
// by The Usurper 
//------------------------------//

	High Councillor Ician recalls:

I recall the flurry in the Civil Service at the time. It was normal at this time of year, with the Equestria Games right around the corner. Still, after the past few days, the atmosphere of the offices was thick with fatigue and tension. Everypony was past tired of all the trouble brought about by the New Year's Eve arrest. The top brass of the Royal Guard had begun to quarrel with the Ministry of Defense over command chain and authoritative issues, the Equestrian Intelligence Bureau was coming under fire from almost everypony, and the Ministry of Administrative Affairs was too because of Apple Bee's involvement. All the Palace was dissolving into civil war. I couldn't go anywhere without feeling oppressed by the heavy atmosphere.

And nowhere was it heavier than in Mente's office itself.

Unlike the others, Mente, I knew, had been busy long before the arrest. The apple supplier issue, the Ahuizotl incident... he'd had to deal with both of them, and now additionally the Equestria Games preparations and suppression of the civil war. A split in the Service at the level we were facing hadn't been seen since thousands of years ago, at least as far as the records went. The catalyst back then, as now, was a loss of faith in the leadership... except in the past, that leader was Discord. Now the leader in question was Mente.

As history tells, the fragmentation of the Civil Service in the Era of Chaos had led directly to the overthrow of a reigning regime and the installation of Princesses Celestia and Luna as the leaders of the newly-reformed Kingdom of Equestria. Since then, the Civil Service had always been united under the banner of the Councillors, amidst the changing politicians. The only other constant has been the Princesses, and as the legend of the Mare in the Moon, amongst recent events, show, even that constant has been and can be disrupted. The persistent unity of the Service could not be compromised, lest upheaval ensue, and as the one responsible for it nopony was more aware of this than High Councillor Mente.

He called me to his office early this morning. As I'd been informed through the Private Secretaries' grapevine, there was to be a meeting of all the Permanent Secretaries first thing in the official start of the working morning, which would explain why I was summoned so early. I knew we had to keep this brief... whatever it was that he wanted to talk to me about. For some strange reason there hadn't been any information about the meeting on the grapevine, which meant that whatever it was, it probably didn't involve the other departments at all. Either that, or he didn't want anypony to know anything about it, at least for the moment.

There were only so many possibilities left.

As soon as I set hoof in his office my suspicion began to grow. I greeted him with a polite greeting, but he didn't reply; instead, he walked over to the door I'd just walked through, closed it, locked it from the inside, and then continued to lock the next four padlocks along the edge of the doorframe I'd never noticed were there. After that, he went over to the windows in his office that opened up onto the Palace corridors and drew the curtains shut. He did the same for the ones that looked out onto Canterlot. Finally, after all that, he walked through the almost pitch-darkness and sat back down at his desk.

"Hello, Ician," he said gravely.

I can't quite remember what I stammered out, but I know that I sounded very stupid. Hopefully it came out more as being shocked. Either way, Mente didn't acknowledge it.

"Do you know why I called you here?" he asked.

I shook my head. He responded by shaking his too.

"I'm sorry to do this to you, Ician," he continued, "but I need you to help me do this. I'm a bit too... busy to prepare for the Equestria Games. Could you take care of it in my stead?"

I was stunned. "This is... an enormous responsibility," I stammered.

"I know," was his answer. "That's why I'm giving it to you. I believe you're capable enough to take care of it. But let me remind you not to let the Princess get a word of the sponsorship issues."

"She's probably already consulted Fancy," I said. "If she asks me directly, what should I do?"

"You'll have no choice but to acquiesce," he told me. "But make sure she does not make a decision contrary to ours."

"Have we already decided who the sponsor will be?" I asked.

"We will, after the Perm. Sec. meeting. It's on the agenda." He fixed me with a steely gaze. "I am sure that Princess Sparkle will argue her case on some trifling points. You must persuade her otherwise."

I was somewhat concerned. I remarked that, were the Princess to have been advised by Fancy, she would likely be stubborn and immovable in her opinion. How was I to convince her otherwise?

"Find a way," he snapped. Evidently he was at the end of his patience. "You're the Assistant Councillor, not my hoof puppet. I'm trusting you to be capable, so show me you deserve it."

I stiffened and winced. "Yes, High Councillor. I won't fail you."

He sighed. "I'm sorry, Ician. I'm just... fatigued. Princess Sparkle isn't the easiest to deal with, and with expert advice she has the potential to be very... troublesome."

"I understand," I said, trying to put the sting of his reprisal behind me. "Don't worry about the Equestria Games, I'll ensure it runs smoothly."

"Thank you," he answered, and then he ushered me out. Just before he closed the door on me he mentioned, "Also, I hear that Fancy would like to meet with you. Perhaps this would be an opportunity to... understand him better."

In essence, code for find his weak spots. Unlike Mente, my degrees were in law and administration, not in analytical psychology. Fancy was smart to want to meet me instead of him. "I'll have a chat with him."

"I look forward to hearing about it." He then indicated that I should leave.









[Ed: The meeting as referenced above is detailed in Fancy's private diary. While High Councillor Ician gave us a cursory explanation of the meeting, Fancy's notes have a level of depth concerning his thought processes. We therefore elected to make use of his writing, corroborated and enhanced by the High Councillor's account.]

Tact Ician. Age, 27. Position, Assistant Councillor to Princess Celestia of Equestria. As I recall, he used to be the PPS at the MHSS. I never met him personally, but by all accounts he was as a proper PPS should be: quiet, obedient, intelligent, and creative. Creativity, of course, concerning only means and not ends - it would not do for a Private Secretary to come up with anything so undesirable as a new idea.

My old colleague at the MHSS, Caesar, also told me that Ician was rather timid, and from his experience excessively antisocial. He must have grown out of this at least partially to have risen to become the Assistant Councillor, however. In addition to this, Caesar also mentioned that Ician was oftentimes unsure of himself and his ability, which would indicate insecurity. Something to keep in mind for future dealings with him.

And finally, there was something my own private investigators had turned up. I wasn't looking into him in particular, but it seems he's connected rather closely to one of the key personnel in Fancy Co.'s research division. Enough to suspect impropriety. I decided to use this as an opening move.

As soon as he entered the room, I began my offensive. "Do you know a pony by the name of Twist, Ician?" I began.

He hadn't even entered fully yet, but he flinched on the spot. Hit a nerve there; I was on the right track. "It's a common name," he said stiffly, closing the door. "What's his first name?"

"'His'?" I observed. "So you do know Mr Twist."

His recovery was quick and smooth, unlike the hesitation I was expecting. "I know a Twist. I'm not denying it."

"What's his full name, then?" I asked.

"... I don't see how this is related to our meeting." A blunt but strong attempt to redirect the conversation. As I thought, he didn't want me to pursue this line of inquiry. I could have dropped it, but I decided to press on. The more I could unnerve him the more I could see past the mask he was wearing.

"It's entirely relevant, I assure you," I replied.

He immediately picked up on the dismissive comment. "It would be easier to for me to trust you if you told me what this meeting was actually about."

"Many things, really. First of all is company affairs. I still have a business to run, you know." I gave him a charming smile. "And I have to question your affiliation to my lead researcher."

He flinched again. To his credit, though, he kept his expression remarkably impassive, save for a slight twitch of his right eye. "What of it?"

"I'm sure you know who he is. Dr Cyan Twist." I hoped to see another flinch, but he'd pulled himself together by that point. Or perhaps he didn't, judging by his response.

"In the grander scheme of things," he replied, "my relation to Dr Cyan Twist does not, primarily, share any connection with the overall well-being and progress of your business establishment. Additionally, it is not approaching a level of severity approximating that which your statement appears to imply, and in fact is completely non-indicative of any supposedly improper activity of either my part or that of Dr Twist's, given the available evidence and potential conclusions drawn on the basis of the the aforementioned evidence."

"Would you like to summarise that?" I asked politely. Being a Minister for several years did not mean I was capable of deciphering that sort of speech on the spot.

"... He is a friend," he answered. "Why do you ask?"

"Really now. Because you two seem a bit too close to be just friends." I leaned forward, fixing him with a penetrating, disarming gaze. "I shan't beat around the bush. He isn't leaking confidential company secrets, is he?"

His face continued to be remarkably impassive, but the long, awkward silence betrayed his uncertainty. Rather than give him more time to think, I chose to press on. "So, shall I take that as an admission?"

"He's doing nothing of the sort," he said at last. "Of this I can assure you."

"Forgive me, but I don't tend to take the word of Civil Servants very seriously."

His response to the jab was admirably composed. "Understandable... ex-Minister Pants."

"So," I continued, "how am I supposed to trust you?"

"I suppose you can't." He swung around quickly and began his counterattack. "But there isn't much you can do about it."

In other words, I couldn't take legal action against him. He was right. I hadn't the evidence to formally accuse him, after all, even if that evidence was just one privately-funded investigation away. In all honesty, I didn't really doubt him, not in particular, but that was due less to my trust in him than my suspicion that I knew exactly what was going on. I wasn't going to raise that point, though, for the sake of his face.

"No," I replied nonchalantly. "But I tend to keep a close eye on my researchers. If I find anything suspicious..."

"Perish the thought," he quickly interjected.

"Good, good. Now onto the next issue." It was time to play hardball. "You and I both know that there are going to be some questionable sponsorship offers for the Equestria Games."

As expected, he delivered the standard non-reply. "As an appointed official, I am not at liberty to disclose confidential government information to members of the general public."

"I wasn't trying to make you," i said. "I just wanted to remind you to take the questionable nature of those sponsorship offers into consideration. After all, we wouldn't want the Princess to make a mistake, would we?"

"There are no Princessly mistakes in government," he replied with a smile. "Only Princessly successes and Ministerial failures."

True as the quip was, I wasn't about to allow it to distract me from my line of attack. "I doubt we'd want the Ministers to make mistakes either, if it's to the detriment of the government."

Unfortunately, he wasn't about to budge. His training and discretion served him well. "Don't worry, the optimum outcome will be reached."

"From whose point of view?" I challenged.

"Everypony's," he replied. "At least everypony who matters."

I sighed. It was a sign of my frustration, and in my frustration I made a mistake. "You'll need Twilight's approval."

"She will understand." His eyes sparkled in a brief display of understanding. "Our advice is sound."

I shrugged. Inwardly I was seething with anger at myself for effectively acknowledging that I would be influencing Twilight's decision. "I'm sure it is. I'm just asking you to reconsider the premises of your advice, that's all."

"... Why tell this to me, then?" he asked. "You should be telling the High Councillor. He is the one in charge, after all."

"Because," I said plainly, "you're the Princess' PPS."

"Strictly speaking," he replied, "while my duties and responsibilities may mirror that of a Principal Private Secretary, the terminology in effect is slightly different so as to indicate the—"

"I meant that in a more figurative sense," I cut in. His pedantry reminded me a lot of Woolly. "Private Secretaries are much more loyal to their Ministers than Permanent Secretaries. I know that if there's anyone Twilight can trust, it'll be you."

"We in the Civil Service are all the Princess' loyal servants." I really was getting nowhere; his defenses were up. No doubt he was far too suspicious of me to open up. That was, admittedly, partly my fault, though I doubted that he would have opened up anyway.

All I could do was sigh. "Yes, yes. But you are her most loyal of servants, aren't you?"

"Primus inter pares," he said.

I gave an even more exasperated sigh."Well, Ician, it's been a pleasure talking with you. But I shouldn't hold you back from your work any longer."

"Indeed," he replied. "The Princess will need me by her side."

"For directing?"

"For advice," he corrected.

"Well... in any case, thank you for your time." I motioned for him to leave. "You've been... a great help."

"I would certainly hope not." He flashed a mischievous smile as he turned to depart. "That would be most improper."