//------------------------------// // Conspiracy // Story: Armor's Game // by OTCPony //------------------------------// “I don’t like this,” said Radical Road through gritted teeth. Blueblood trotted with Radical down the stairs from Radical’s parliamentary office to the Members’ Lobby. “Whether either of us likes it or not, we’re in too deep now. We have to strike while the momentum is with us.” “We could wait until the elections,” hissed Radical. “We have the public’s ear, and if we fail...” “We could have chosen to wait a week ago. Not now, not that we have Neigh with us. If we choose to wait he’ll abandon us and he might even reveal what we’re planning. We have to act now. If we fail it will be as heroes. If we succeed, you will be able to do all you’ve ever wanted.” They emerged from the grand marble staircase into the Members’ Lobby. A gaggle of Parliamentarian MPs, aides, and reporters awaited them. “Now, away and do your speech,” said Blueblood. “I have a meeting with our uniformed friends.” As Radical trotted into the Commons Chamber, his entourage snaking after him, Blueblood turned away and cantered in the opposite direction to the Members’ Entrance. Radical would give the usual speech, calling for more reform, denouncing the government, demanding more transparency, calling that the princesses be held to account over the sun and moon... It was the same old formula repeated for the thousandth time, but according to the opinion polls, it worked. Blueblood would not be there to hear it. It was true that he had a meeting with Neigh and a few other officers, but first he had to deal with an annoying loose end. *** Amber Spyglass slammed the folder shut. “This had better be a joke.” Vinyl and Octavia exchanged glances. It felt like the Chief of Intelligence was trying to pin them to the wall of his office with his gaze. “I know the abstract sounds farfetched, sir,” said Octavia mildly. “But if you read our whole report...” “You’ve given me a collection of disconnected events that are linked by straws so thin I could floss my teeth with them. Do you know what will happen if this leaks?” “We couldn’t just sit on it!” blurted Vinyl. “There’s some seriously dodgy stuff going on! This stock market thing is just the latest! Somepony organised a massive shorting of stocks in Toffeenose Mining. When the stocks hit bottom after the company collapsed, they made a fortune! Are you telling me that’s not suspicious?” “But it doesn’t connect to Blueblood!” snapped Amber Spyglass. “It and everything else you’ve suggested are purely circumstantial. We cannot afford the political ramifications of investigating him. Not now. Not after everything that’s happened in the past week.” “But what if we’re right?” asked Octavia. “What about the political ramifications then?” “If you are right, and we don’t investigate, then this government might not survive. But if you are wrong and we do investigate, then this government will not survive. Those odds are far too long to begin accusing a public figure of murder and conspiracy.” “Sir...” “That is the end of it, Vinyl.” “But sir...!” “Ahem.” All three of them turned to look at the door, then rapidly stood up. Bowing her head slightly to pass under the doorframe, Princess Celestia entered the office. “Good morning everypony. Thought I’d look in to see how my intelligence service is doing. Any leads, Amber?” “A dead end I’m afraid, Your Highness.” He turned to Vinyl and Octavia. “You’re dismissed,” he said sharply. Celestia watched as the two ponies trudged sullenly out of the office. She waited until the door closed before she spoke again. “Do you think they’re right?” “And there was me thinking I’d put a counter-surveillance spell on that door.” “I may not be able to move the sun any more, but I am still an Alicorn princess.” Celestia looked up at the morning sky out of the tower window. “It’s strange, not having to lift it anymore. But as I said, do you think they’re right?” “Well, it certainly fits with that prophecy you showed us. Not that we can take action on it anymore. In my experience these things have a way of fulfilling themselves regardless of what you do.” He took the folder in his light yellow magical aura and slid it into his desk drawer. “Might be interesting for historians though, assuming there’s any of you left.” “How long have you known this was coming?” “Oh, a while. I can spot broad patterns, but chaos being what it is I could never have told you where, when or who. And besides, that wouldn’t have been any fun.” “Oh, thank you. I’m glad you see a potential civil war between my subjects in such light terms.” “Now I resent that,” said Amber Spyglass. “Chaos isn’t anarchy and anarchy isn’t chaos. Besides, I never killed anypony remember?” “One of your few virtues.” Celestia turned to look back out the window. “You remember the terms of our agreement?” “Yes, you curtail my powers and I serve as your Chief of Intelligence in return for what you oh-so hilariously call freedom.” “I could have imprisoned you again,” said Celestia. “Your idea of compromise is an odd one. Maybe that’s why you’re no good at working with politicians.” “Hmm,” conceded Celestia. She looked down over Canterlot, into the valley beyond. From here she could just about make out Ponyville. “Based on Vinyl and Octavia’s report, we may need to alter our agreement.” *** He met him beneath one of the immense stone discs that supported Canterlot. When Equestria had been formed, the six Founders had literally carved these three massive platforms out of the side of the mountain to support their new capital. It was a vanity Blueblood approved of. Canterlot had stood proud and stern on these discs for thousands of years, supported by the unyielding mathematics and magics of Clover the Clever, but the governments that had occupied it had been fleeting, each one swept away as quickly as the last like snow falling in a river. The long reign of the princesses was a historical aberration that Blueblood meant to correct. But first, there was an obstacle in his way, and even more annoying, it was an obstacle that had once been an asset. A shaken-looking Cordwainer had brought him the letter from his brother yesterday evening: Twist Turn wanted to meet with him personally. It had been supremely annoying, but Blueblood knew that he’d had no other option. He’d arranged the meeting on this path below the city. Centuries ago these walkways, snaking beneath the platforms and through the crystal caves deep inside the Canterhorn, had been used to inspect the bases of the platforms for structural damage or signs of the beginnings of collapse. But Clover the Clever’s magic had held, not a thaum less powerful than the day the strengthening spells had been cast, and the patrols and the paths had been abandoned two hundred years after her death. Now most ponies had forgotten that they even existed. Blueblood found Twist Turn, pacing and sweating, a thirty minute walk down the path. He knew that somewhere, through seventy-five feet of solid stone above them, was Canterlot Castle. “Mr Turn.” “Mr Blueblood!” The Earth Pony stallion was pasty-faced, with dark circles under his eyes. Even from twelve feet away Blueblood caught the stink of drink. “Our correspondence, as I asked?” Twist Turn fumbled in his stained jacket’s inside pocket and pulled out a hooful of letters. Blueblood took them in his magic and slid them into his pocket. “Thank you. I understand if recent events mean you don’t want a connection with me. I’ll destroy these and you can go off with a completely clean slate.” “Thanks,” slurred Twist Turn. “But that’s not why I asked to meet.” Blueblood tried not to let his irritation show. He’d hoped that his offer would have got this especially vile commoner off his hooves. “If it’s more money you want...” “It’s not about money. Look, I’ve heard you and Radical Road on the radio, I know what you did with my stories from down south and I know why you got me to blow up that mine. You want to bring down the government and you want to replace it.” Blueblood cocked his head. Twist Turn seemed to think that was an amazing piece of intuition. “Yes, I want power.” “Why? What for? What’s worth me killing hundreds of ponies? I’ve read the news: thousands of ponies are out of work because of that mine explosion. What are you going to do to fix it?!” Blueblood took a step backwards. Twist Turn’s eyes were mad and feverish. “Why?!” repeated the Earth Pony desperately. “What are you going to do?! Just... just tell me and I’ll go!” Blueblood sighed. He’d hoped it wouldn’t come to this. “Very well, Mr Turn, I’ll tell you. Do you know why a stallion like Radical Road is still working with a stallion like me? Because I can put him within sight of the things he’s always wanted: more transparency, greater democracy, a less-powerful monarchy.” He snorted. “Wonderful things for a pony who never left their students’ union. “Equestria doesn’t need that. The average pony doesn’t want that. They want prosperity, health, good summers and productive fields. How many ponies actually paid attention to politics in Canterlot last year when times were good? Did you, Mr Turn?” “So... so that’s what you’re going to do?” asked Twist Turn. “Solve this? Put the economy back on track? But... but then...” “Why did I cause a recession and impoverish thousands? Why did I sabotage the war effort with deficient guns? Why did I get you to reveal what was really going on in the south with the army? Why, it’s simple Mr Turn. So simple that you worked it out yourself: I want power, and to do that I needed to discredit Celestia’s government. If it makes you feel better I’ll probably try to fix that recession, but really I’ll only be doing that to keep power.” Twist Turn stared at him, horror and disbelief covering his face. Blueblood had long ago anticipated that that would be most ponies’ reaction. “That’s... that’s it then? Just power?” “Yes, and you have been a great help in getting me to it, but now I’ve told you, I need more. I need to know that I can trust you.” Twist Turn took a step backwards. “I... I...” “Twist Turn,” said Blueblood sternly. “Can I trust you?” “Yes!” blurted Twist Turn. “You can trust me! Look, I’ll disappear! I’ll go abroad! You’ll never hear from me again!” Blueblood sighed. “I’m sorry, Twist Turn, but I don’t think I can.” Twist Turn’s eyes went wide. He had barely raised a leg to run when suddenly his breath caught in his throat. Twist Turn’s eyes bulged in his head and veins stood out on his head as Blueblood’s horn glowed and an invisible noose tightened around his neck. Twist Turn began to gasp uselessly as he sank to his knees. The muscles in his neck spasmed. As Blueblood squeezed tighter, bruises erupted on his neck as the blood vessels ruptured. After a few more moments, Blueblood let go. The corpse collapsed on to the stone path. Blueblood took several steps backwards, panting. Sweat soaked his coat. That had been more effort than he’d anticipated. He took a moment to recover himself, then swiftly frisked Twist Turn’s corpse. He took anything with a name – IDs, National Insurance Number card, membership cards, loyalty cards – and stuffed them into the sheaf of letters Twist Turn had given him. Holding them in the air in front of him with his magic, he ignited them with an incendiary charm. He let the ashes blow away on the wind. With another glow of his horn he seized Twist Turn’s body and, with a grunt of effort, heaved it over the balcony. He watched it tumble down hundreds of feet into the valley below. It disappeared into a small wood hugging the cliff of the Canterhorn. The Prancing Pass was not frequented by walkers this close to winter and the railway lines passed far from the cliff side. Twist Turn’s bones would not be found for months. By which time Blueblood would be far beyond justice for it. *** In his library, Blueblood watched fifteen officers pore over a plan of Canterlot Castle. “The battalion will disembark at the Royal Train Siding,” said Major General Neigh. “That will get us inside the walls. Brazen, once we’ve entered the Castle you’ll occupy the Drill Hall below the Guards Tower. If the Royal Guard tries to stop us, they’ll have to come through you.” Lieutenant Colonel Brazen Petard, whose battalion would be Blueblood’s muscle for the coup, nodded curtly. That Neigh was based in Trottingham had been a stroke of luck. The Second City of Equestria received trade and business from all corners of the realm. Bustling, buzzing and cosmopolitan, it had inevitably become a Parliamentarian heartland. Ponies discussed and debated accountable government and a transparent monarchy in their clubs, pubs and cafés, and the soldiers and officers of the Trottingham Grenadiers could not have failed to notice that, especially after what the Treasury had just done to their demobilised comrades. Yet at the same time, Blueblood struggled not to let his lip curl. Though he recognised their necessity, he had disliked soldiers even when they had been mere guards at Canterlot Castle. How vacant did a pony have to be to see pride and honour in scrabbling around in the mud with spears and swords? It spoke volumes about their intelligence and independence that these stallions would agree to participating in a coup just because their General had! Blueblood had anticipated long meetings and cautious approaches, but nearly all these officers had fallen into line with a single discussion with him and Neigh! Some had required a little more encouragement, their decision eased by generous amounts of bits transferred from Blueblood's bank accounts to theirs. One of them, Colonel Tinderblast, had been apprehensive at first, but following a meeting with the chinless luminary Radical Road, who had soothed his doubts with philosophies and platitudes, he had turned positively giddy with revolutionary fervour. “If we do this right,” continued Neigh. “We can present the Guards with a fait accompli. No pony will have to die. While you hold the Barracks, the rest of us and the Light Company will make our way to the throne room.” A cold silence fell over the room. It was the moment they had all known was coming yet had always tried not to think about. “So,” asked Brigadier General Sword Knot. “How are we going to deal with Celestia?” “Even without the sun she’s an incredibly powerful Unicorn,” said Brigadier General White Cuirass. “Even with Mr Blueblood with us, I doubt we can force her to go quietly.” “I can’t guarantee the Light Company will fire on their Princess,” admitted Captain Armed March of Brazen Petard’s Light Company. “Roll grenades into the room then,” said Captain Sharp Suit of the Grenadier Company. “Or set up a battalion gun and blast the door in. She can’t survive shrapnel anymore than a normal pony.” “Not a bad idea,” muttered Sword Knot. “Gentlestallions, this is not some cheap murder!” barked Neigh. “We have committed to do an honourable thing, for our soldiers; for our comrades who have died; for Equestria. It must be done honourably! With our hooves, confronting Celestia.” Blast, thought Blueblood, but Neigh’s brother officers were nodding. Blueblood was outwardly calm; inside he was fuming. It was a peculiarly soldierly thing to find honour and glory in a doomed enterprise. “Well, gentlestallions,” he said calmly. “It is decided. I would ask that you join me for drinks in the drawing room to toast our enterprise.” The officers filed slowly out of the library. Two remained. Captain Sharp Suit and Colonel Tinderblast stood staring down at the plan of the Castle. “Captain? Colonel?” asked Blueblood. “You have concerns?” “Nothing, sir," said Tinderblast stiffly. “You can speak frankly to me, Colonel,” said Blueblood, hoping that he and Sharp Suit was thinking what he was. “I’m not in the Army, remember?” Sharp Suit's eyes flicked to Tinderblast. He seemed to be waiting for his superior's approval. Tinderblast gave only the tiniest of nods. “Well, with the greatest respect to the Major General," said Sharp Suit, slowly. "I don’t think he’s committed to pulling this off. He knows what we have to do but doesn’t want to do it. We have to kill Celestia.” “There may be a way,” said Blueblood slowly. “But ponies will have to die.” “This is a military operation,” said Tinderblast. “Of course ponies will have to die.” Blueblood exited the library a few minutes later. Across the hall he saw Cordwainer exiting the drawing room having just delivered the drinks. “We need uniforms!” he said quickly. “Uniforms, sir?” “Trottingham Grenadiers uniforms, enough for all the staff. They don’t have to be tailored; they just have to look convincing.” “Yes... sir,” said Cordwainer, confused. “If I may sir, how was the meeting with Twist Turn?” Blueblood sighed. “I told him what he asked. He agreed to stay quiet for another fifty thousand, but my condition was that he leaves Equestria. He’ll be on his way to Mareope now.” Cordwainer was silent for a moment. Then he said. “I understand, sir.”