I Against I, Me Against You

by Flynt Coal


Epilogue - Control

With a calming sigh, Malcolm Hargrove stepped into his large, dimly lit office. He sat down in the large soft chair behind the desk and took a moment to relax, allowing his public mask to slip away. Outside the huge tinted window behind his desk, the skyline of Sydney, Australia stretched on into the night. The sounds of the nightlife far below were cut silent by the thorough sound-proofing of his office.

Ever since he returned to the UNSC capital on Earth one month ago, Chairman Hargrove had held press conference after press conference regarding the budding alliance between the UNSC and the newly discovered race of equine aliens. Of course, “newly discovered” was hardly the appropriate term. Hargrove had made sure that the extent to which Dr. Leonard Church had nearly single-handedly ruined First Contact was well known to both the media and his political colleagues. After that, it was all too easy to explain how “lucky” it was that Hargrove had received that message and arrived in time to put out the metaphorical fires.

Of course, luck had nothing to do with it. Nobody needed to know that Hargrove had known the location of Caballinus IV all along, thanks to both of his moles within Project Freelancer. His agent on the ground in Equestria had kept him well informed on the conflict between Princess Celestia and the Director.

Of course, Hargrove would have been hard pressed to explain that to the rest of the Oversight-Subcommittee and the Security Council, which was why his investigation of Project Freelancer had been one of his paramount objectives. Not only did it allow him to legitimately seize all of Project Freelancer’s assets, but it had also put him on the radar of Princess Celestia and her allies, making him the one they reached out to and giving him legitimate cause to visit the enigmatic planet to make himself Celestia’s closest ally in the UNSC. Hargrove preferred to make multiple moves in single strokes.

On that note, a quick glance at the date and time reminded Hargrove that it was nearly time for his scheduled update on the Chorus operation. With the press of a few holographic buttons, Hargrove opened an encrypted long-range transmission to the distant planet, disguised its point of origin, and simultaneously scrambled the hundreds of equally as encrypted decoy signals. Lastly, Hargrove activated the voice filters and turned to face the window.

The towering tinted glass was now a viewscreen capable of holding video conferences with his associates, and after few moments, one such associate appeared before him.

This is Locus, broadcasting on a secure channel,” the mercenary intoned in his deep menacing voice. He was a tall man in onyx-black armor with green detail and an X branded across his namesake helmet.

“Report, Locus. What is the status of your current assignments?” Hargrove asked. To Locus, his voice would appear as a synthesized drone of androgynous gender. Just as Hargrove wore the mask of a kind but firm leader in public, when dealing with his… less than legitimate enterprises, he wore a different kind of mask. One that allowed him to remain safely anonymous as he conducted his shadier business. Locus and his mercenaries on Chorus, CT and his Insurrectionists, and all of his other underworld contacts knew him by only one name: Control.

Operation: Kingmaker was a success,” Locus replied, wasting no time to get to business with the cold professionalism that Hargrove admired. Too bad the same can’t be said for his partner.

Donald Doyle is the new Commander of the Federal Army of Chorus,” Locus continued. “The civil war is hot again.

“Wonderful,” Hargrove said with a satisfied sigh. Two moves in one stroke.

Locus proceeded to give Hargrove a brief summary of events on Chorus surrounding their latest operation. The details themselves were relatively unimportant. All they told Hargrove was that his plan was proceeding perfectly.

“And what of your other assignment?” Hargrove asked as Locus wrapped up his report.

The new data you sent us proved to be useful,” Locus stated. That was another benefit of seizing all of Project Freelancer’s assets: The Director had a large amount of data on the Equestrians and their history in his possession. “We’ve found the artifact.

Hargrove grinned. “Show me.”

In a few minutes, two more mercenaries in black armor appeared on screen pushing along a dolly carrying a large object covered by a tarp. Locus took a step to the side, and one of the mercenaries reached for the tarp and removed it.

Hargrove saw the console Locus was using to communicate with him in the reflection of an ornate mirror. The mirror was set in a frame of flawless white marble shaped like an upside down horseshoe. Shining gemstones covered the frame, and above it an effigy of a pony rearing up hung above the pristine reflective glass.

It would appear you were right,” Locus mused. “This world is connected to theirs after all….

Ignoring Locus’s uncharacteristic musings, Hargrove’s thoughts became preoccupied with what it could mean. Evidently, Chorus is a planet rich with both Forerunner and Equestrian artifacts. Hargrove did not believe this was merely coincidence.

Science Team has yet to uncover anything about it, or what it’s capable of,” Locus said as he motioned for his men to return the tarp over the mirror. “Do you want it delivered to your trophy room?

Under normal circumstances, Hargrove would not hesitate to add a find like this to his collection. “No. Keep it on base at your primary facility for now.” There will be other trophies to acquire soon enough.

However, now that Hargrove had all of the Director’s data on Equestria, he had a hunch he knew exactly what that mirror was, and more importantly, what it had been used for in the past. Locus, on the other hand, merely gave him an inquisitive look that a less observant individual might have failed to notice beneath his otherwise unreadable black helmet.

“I believe that artifact will be of much more use to you on Chorus,” Hargrove said. “All we need is a spellcaster that can figure out how to activate it.”

Fortunately, his agent in Equestria was in the process of recruiting for that very purpose.

Understood,” Locus said, even though Hargrove highly doubted that he truly did.

“Tell your partner to join us for our next debriefing,” Hargrove ordered before signing out. “Assuming all goes well with this new artifact, I may have a new assignment for the both of you.”

With that, Locus disconnected and Hargrove stopped all signals transmitting from his office. Turning back around in his chair, Hargrove spent the next several minutes going through piles of paperwork pertaining to his recent seizure of Project Freelancer’s assets. It was a tedious, but necessary duty as the Chairman of the Oversight-Subcommittee. That, and Hargrove liked to personally make sure there were no… discrepancies in his numbers, lest he raise suspicion.

Excuse me, Chairman,” his new A.I. addressed him over the speaker.

“Yes, FILSS?” Hargrove said pleasantly. Acquiring and reformatting the former A.I. caretaker of Project Freelancer was another sort of trophy. Sure, there was always the risk of getting caught with an illegally formatted A.I., but Hargrove enjoyed a little risk every now and then. Besides, he’d taken all the necessary precautions to hide FILSS’s existence in his database with, ironically, help from the A.I. itself.

The package you were expecting has arrived ahead of schedule, sir.

For some inexplicable reason, FILSS’s voice changed after it was reformatted. The A.I.’s once pleasant, cheerful inflection was gone, replaced by a dead monotone that sounded almost… defeated. Personally, Hargrove preferred the new voice.

“Is that so?” he asked.

Yes, Chairman. The package was delivered to the trophy room and secured as per your instructions.

That was a bit of good news Hargrove hadn’t been expecting to hear today. After thanking the A.I., Hargrove stood from his desk and made to leave his office. He travelled through heavily guarded halls and took an elevator down to the main floor. From there, Hargrove walked across the building’s vast main lobby. Receptionists smiled nervously at him from behind the round, central desk as he passed. Behind them, the words Charon Industries were mounted on the wall in big, shining platinum letters. Hargrove looked from the obvious security guards scattered about the floor to the less obvious security measures hidden up in the walls.

Satisfied that everything was in its proper place, Hargrove continued to the far end of the lobby, where a small, unassuming door sat in the wall, a keypad beside it. Hargrove input the key code and the door unlocked for him. After following more winding corridors designed to trip up anyone unfamiliar with their layout, Hargrove came to an elevator that only went down. A quick fingerprint scan set the elevator in motion, and Hargrove waited patiently as he was taken down past even the lowest maintenance levels.

After reaching the bottom, the elevator opened up to one final hallway with nothing but a set of steel doors on the other end. Standing on either side of the doors were two of Hargrove’s most loyal and skilled guards. A retinal scan allowed the doors to open, and Malcolm Hargrove stepped into his trophy room.

Alien artifacts of various origins sat on pedestals throughout the room. Additionally, the room was quickly filling up with special objects taken from Project Freelancer. A charred brute shot, a synthetic body in a suit of black MJOLNIR armor, and a piece of rubble with traces of blood on it. But Hargrove wasn’t here to see any of that. His true prize at the moment was something his men had recently recovered from the wreckage of the Staff of Charon in Equestria.

At the back of the trophy room was a large bulletproof glass case. Inside, magnetically held in place, was a device roughly the size of a man’s head. Glowing blue lines ran along its body, and it looked around with a big blue eye as a frantic, synthesized voice muttered, punctuated by the occasional cough.

“Shield world? No no… too many variations… nothing like Onyx….”

It was some time after Hargrove approached the glass until the construct finally noticed his presence.

“Ah! Greetings, Reclaimer! I am 636 Rambling Frequency, the Monitor of… well, I suppose there isn’t much of a facility left anymore,” the construct said as its large eye turned to look at him. “Apologies for not noticing you sooner, but I have been most perplexed recently.”

“Perplexed?” Hargrove asked.

“Yes,” 636 coughed. “It would appear that my databanks on the homeworld of Species 29 are incomplete.”

“I assume that you are referring to the Equestrians?”

“Correct. Upon arrival on their homeworld with the other Reclaimers, I performed a quick scan of the planet and found things most intriguing. Much greater presence of Forerunner sites than should be usual for any ordinary repopulation facility. Regrettably, before I could investigate further, I found myself quite… restrained.”

“I wouldn’t worry about that, I am certain that working together, you and I will discover all of that world’s little secrets,” Hargrove said with a smile. “Now, why don’t you start by telling me everything you know.”


She waited alone in the featureless plane of nothing, just as She had for eons before. A mortal might go mad from boredom in a place like this, but in truth, She was quite content here—for now. After all, She had a window through time and space through which to glimpse Her world, and there She could watch Her little ponies grow under the guiding hoof of young Princess Celestia.

The appearance of Her oldest and most loyal friend broke the monotony of Her quiet dimension. He wasn’t really here, She knew. He was merely projecting himself into Her realm.

“The incident with the human military agency has resolved itself,” the old gray unicorn stallion said. He wore simple blue rags over white cloth bandages, his old face covered in stubble. An ancient stopwatch hung on a chain around his neck, its hands frozen at six. Any other pony in the outside world would simply mistake him for an unassuming old stallion. “You were right: There was no need for a ‘divine intervention’ after all.”

The gray stallion chuckled at his little joke, while She remained quiet and contemplative. “And what of the young mare?” She asked. “Is she safe?”

The gray stallion grinned. “More than safe. I hear she was instrumental in the downfall of the human military program—that ‘Project Freelancer’.”

She smiled, and the gray stallion looked at Her curiously. “You really think she’s the one, don’t you?”

She gave him a meaningful look, and the stallion errantly waved a hoof. “Right, right. Guess you would know that better than I.” The stallion then put a hoof to his chin. “Still… I thought the bloodline died out years ago….”

“While that very likely may be true, you forget one crucial detail: This young mare wasn’t born. She was made,” She said. “It’s possible the bloodline was reborn in her.”

Finally, the gray stallion gave a shrug and a wry smile. “Hmph. Guess it doesn’t matter how old ya get. You never stop learning!”

“If she really is the one we’ve been waiting for, we’ll have to watch over her,” She said, the worried frown barely perceptible on Her face. “Things are accelerating quicker than I anticipated. Now that humans and ponies are officially together in the galaxy, ponykind’s fate dangles precariously. We could either be snuffed out in an instant or thrive across the stars. If the mare really is who we think she is, she could be the key to finally fulfilling ponykind’s destiny….”

“I’ll watch over and protect her,” the gray stallion said, bowing low. “You have my word... My Queen.”