“Pip, are you here?”
“Yes, sir, General,” Pip said, uncomfortable with the term. It was difficult, not referring to him as “Captain”; after all, for years his mentor, Shining Armor, had been the captain of the guard. But now, all that had changed since they’d found Rarity’s daughter and formed alliances with the new species known as humans, Equestria had found just how unadvanced they were in comparison to the bipedal extradimensionals. Even the most advanced of pony technology was still decades behind human standards, and the average? Pitiful. And not just technology: with the lone exception of magic – and a justified one, since humans had no magic whatsoever – Equestria was pitiful backwater in comparison to even the least advanced of human nations.
Upon learning that, Celestia began a five-year change to the government. Ministries – sections of the government that ran stuff on behalf of the crown – were created, and one of those was the Ministry of Defense. Formed out of the remains of both the Royal Guard and the Royal Fleet, the two services were ripped apart into four organizations. One of those would carry on the name of the Equestriani Royal Guard and its mission of protecting the princesses, though it would no longer be a military organization, but a law enforcement one. The other three would make up new types of forces, based on human military standards.
Which was why four months ago, Pip had been a promising sergeant in the Royal Guard, and part of the elite First Line cohort. Now? He was a “major” in the “Royal Equestriani Army”, training with weapons that were horrifying and tactics that were nigh-barbaric. From what he could tell, if there was one thing that humans could do beyond anything else, it was fight wars, and their level of expertise put even the mighty dragons to shame.
But at the same time…. He’d gotten to know many humans while going through a modified version of the US Army Special Forces training with the intent of creating a special elite unit. It had been a human that had suggested the name to him: Destriers, after a special type of brave and fearless warrior who strode into battle. He later found out that destriers were actually the horse and not the warrior, but the theme remained and since that time, Pip was forming what would the first of many Destrier Groups, to hold the front line for the REA. And none of that would have been possible had it not been for those same humans. And Sweetie had told him of her experiences with them and the incredible things they did for a non-magical species. In the end, he concluded that humans were really no different than ponies; it was the individual that mattered, not the herd – or whatever a group of humans was called.
But he still had a hard time calling Shining Armor “General.”
“Are you there?” the older stallion asked.
“I’m here,” Pip said, falling into place alongside his mentor. It hurt seeing Shining Armor like this, the once strong and proud warrior prince now blinded and lamed by the disease killing him. Something had happened to him ten years ago when he finally cornered Chrysalis’ forces and destroyed them utterly. But there had been a price, and that cost was now killing him. But no matter what, Pip would always remember the rock-strong unicorn stallion that he’d idolized since he was a colt.
“Pip, I need you to do something for me,” Shining said, as they walked in a location Pip was familiar with: Ghastly Gorge. It had been made off-limits ten years ago for some reason and until this day he didn’t know why. Was there a special military program going on here? Some training facility that was being built here and had to be kept secret?
“Anything, my prince,” Pip said, deciding on formality.
“You’ve never had to call me that, Pip. Don’t start getting formal now just because I’m dying,” Shining said. Before Pip could protest the older stallion added, “And yes, don’t argue – I’m dying. I know it. Whatever trap Chrysalis laid for me a decade past is killing me now and I’m lucky I survived this long. But I can’t go until I know that our most special project is in good hooves, and so I’m entrusting it to you.”
“What about Golden Grape, or Emerald Ray, or Silver? Surely one of them—”
“—doesn’t have the right temperament for those sort of things,” Shining interrupted, then was interrupted himself as he started hacking and coughing up blood. “But you do, Pip. You remember when you were just a small colt, always picked on, right?”
Pip nodded; no one had ever expected him to suddenly have one monster of a growth spurt in his teens, making him eventually taller and bulkier than his mentor. But he never forgot where he came from, so to speak. “Yes, I do – Sweetie still teases me about how she was taller than me at that time even though we were the same age. But I don’t….”
“No time to argue, Pip,” Shining said, his rheumy eyes already glazing. “Just promise me that you’ll protect this most important thing I am about to show you. Celestia entrusted me with it, and now I’m entrusting you,” the elder stallion said, walking towards a small cottage at the edge of the trail down into the gorge. He walked as if the path was long memorized and with a purpose of stride Pip hadn’t seen Shining do in a while. It both broke his heart and brought a smile to his face.
“I promise,” Pip said, as the pair arrived at the cottage. Shining knocked on the door and a pegasus mare let him in; she looked familiar for some reason, but he couldn’t quite place it. “But what is this thing that you want me to protect?”
A smile came to Shining’s face and for a second he looked every bit the regal stallion he deserved to be. “Hope,” he said. “Hope for a better tomorrow.”
Pip wondered what he meant, but then saw the mare’s husband, a unicorn, approaching with a foal at his side, a filly. And then he got a better look at her and in that moment, Pip knew exactly what Shining meant.
“It’s not the safest location,” Pip said as they hid in the remnants of what had once been a clothing store, “but we’ll manage.” Out of the fifteen individuals that had been on the helicopter, only a hoofful remained: himself, Fluttershy, Pinkie Pie, a very junior mage named Honeydew Spice, and the gunners on the aircraft, Corporal Hawthorne and Lance Corporal McMillian. They’d been in this position for two days now, in the center of town. They couldn’t teleport out because Honeydew didn’t have the ability to teleport and even if she could, she said, she wasn’t strong enough to teleport multiple individuals – and going back and forth would be too much for her. So they were stuck. Fortunately, they had enough MREs (even if they were unpalatable) to last them for a few days.
At the moment, Pip was watching as two drones and a princess were inspecting some of the unhatched eggs. The drones weren’t the problem; they were stupid, and reliably so – as a colt, he’d heard tales from the Bearers about their battle against dozens of drones and how they’d only been defeated once the princesses came into the battle. And that was the problem: unlike the male drones, the female princesses were smart, cunning and deadly, having a full array of magic at their disposal equivalent to a well-trained unicorn. Worse, princesses eventually succeeded their mothers as queens – and if a princess somehow became separated from the swarm, she then automatically became a queen of a new hive, following her biological impulses and began giving birth parthenogenetically, the normal way of their species. He knew this, because he’d once had a princess just like the one out there explain it all to him.
“Corporals,” he called out, “what’s the story on your end?”
Hawthorne laughed. “Heh, easy, sah. I’m from Birmingham, born during the riots in ‘23 – this can’t be worse than that, let me tell you.”
His partner, McMillian, grinned. “I got into some nasty scuffles with some Pakis and darkies when I was younger, growing up in Tottingham.” When Hawthorne, who was black, looked at him with a nasty stare, McMillian grinned. “Lovely chaps, them. One of them wised up like me an’ became a Royal Marine, so maybe it’s what we needed at the time.”
Pip looked at the two humans and figured they’d work it out: he’d already heard about racism between types of humans and knew that once there had been racism in his own species between the three tribes; sadly, it seemed to be a natural flaw in an intelligent species with more than one variation within its ranks but a flaw that could be eventually overcome.
“Pip, how much longer do you think we’ll be here before somepony will rescue us?” Fluttershy approached him, rifle slung around her shoulder. She didn’t know how to use it in the least, but he’d begged her and Pinkie to carry them once they crashed, if for no other reason than it’d make him feel more comfortable about their safety. The Elements couldn’t solve every problem, after all. He looked over his shoulder, and Pinkie Pie was still asleep in the corner, carbine slung against the wall and looking somehow completely at ease with her surroundings.
“I’m hoping soon. We’ve got enough MREs to last us a few days, but after that things will get dicey. And that’s assuming they think we’re all dead and haven’t started building-by-building searches of us. If they have, it’s only a matter of time before we’re caught.” He thought about a sudden thing. “I wonder if the legends are true – the ones that they catch ponies and throw them in conversion cocoons and turn innocents into creatures of their own kind.”
“Oh bloody hell, Colonel? Did I just hear you right, sah?”
Pip nodded. “Like I said, I don’t know if it’s true – I never thought to ask.”
“Ask who, Pip?” Fluttershy inquired, a curious look etching itself on her face.
“I…uh…nevermind,” he said, shutting up immediately.
A series of rumblings started in the distance, and that was the clue that something had started; indeed, several drones and princesses in the area took to wing, starting to head towards the direction of the sound. At the same time, a crackling sound started over the commline in Pip’s helmet. “Any units surviving in Fillydelphia, this is Bravo Nine. Repeat, this is Bravo Nine. Can anyone hear me, over?”
“Bravo Nine, this is Oscar Six. We can hear you, over.”
“Please confirm authentication code: Delta-Mike-Uniform-Two-One-Niner-Fife-Whiskey, over.”
“Confirmation validator: Hotel-Four-Sierra-Bravo-Romeo-Zero, over.”
A pause. “Validation confirmed. Good to hear from you, Colonel. This is Colonel Highflyer, 9th Armor. We’re on the other end of town, providing some distraction right now.”
“We’re in the center of town at the moment, by the main birthing area. We don’t have a way to get out of here. Only six of us left: both Bearers, two British troops, one mage and myself. Fluttershy, Pinkie and I could probably make it out if we galloped as fast as possible – or flew in Fluttershy’s case, but Honeydew is too weak and the humans don’t have our running speed; they’d be caught in an instant.”
“Understood. Fortunately, we have some assistance on the way. We have a senior mage coming in for you. The flutters have also said they are sending assistance as well. As soon as we send the all-clear, then you all can flash out. The REAF is also arranging for a chopper to be on standby, just in case. We’ll keep the line on standby until we’ve confirmed your extraction.”
“A-a flutter?” Pip said, growing nervous, plus, if that senior mage was who he thought it was…. “Who authorized the flutters to get involved, Colonel? That’s priority Charlie-Sierra-Zero-One-Delta!”
“Princess Cadance, Colonel. She said, and I quote, ‘it’s time to take the tarp off our friends.’”
“Horsefeathers. Fine. We’ll wait for the signal. Oscar Six, out.”
Fluttershy caught the look on the younger pony’s face immediately. “Is there something wrong, Pip?”
“I…I, uh…” Pip was uncharacteristically frazzled. “I…well, the Flutter Project is something I worked on when younger, and I….”
Fluttershy looked at him hard; not with her infamous stare, but the look of somepony who knew something had just gone terribly wrong. “I think there’s something you need to explain, isn’t there?”
It was that point that there were two flashes of light, emblematic of pony teleportation spells. No sooner than the ponies materialized, than the first one, a marshmallow-white pony with pink and lavender tail and mane tackled Pip, hugging him as deeply as she could. “Don’t ever do that to me again!” she breathed, worry in her eyes.
The answer Sweetie Belle got was not one she was expecting. “Uh, hi, Sweetie…um, nice seeing you here in Filly?” He started shaking quite a bit, and she was wondering why.
She looked at him with sudden concern. Was he sick? Had he inhaled some changeling venom? It had been what had killed Shining Armor so long ago and the thought of it being in Pip frightened her. “Pip, dearest, you’re not looking v— what the…?” The unicorn mage was caught off-guard as somepony pushed past her, jostled her aside and kissed her fiancé for all he was worth. It took a second before she realized the pony that kissed him…was a changeling.
“My love!” she told him in a sultry voice, “I’m so sorry I couldn’t arrive in time, but we didn’t find out until just a few moments ago. I’m missed you so, and so sorry that you had to be trapped here i—”
“‘My love?’” If Sweetie Belle wasn’t already white, she would have turned that just now. Looking at Pip, she asked, “Pip, what’s going on?”
“I, uh, well….”
The changeling stood there, a smile on her face…but she looked so strange. She looked as tall as Chrysalis and had a similar face, but that’s where the changes ended. Her body was a soft tan, with hints of a vibrant red on her saddle-like carapace. Her wings were the same translucent color and had no holes in them, nor did her legs. Her eyes were a soft, warm gold, and her fangs were much smaller than a normal changeling’s, almost non-existent. Her mane and tail were the same color as her carapace and also held no holes. Last but not least was her horn, not like the pocked appendage of the changeling queen, but a wavy horn, not unlike the ancient sword known as a flamberge. She looked at him and Sweetie could see, both to her shock and horror, those were eyes of love. “I have missed you, dear husband,” she said, her voice as tender as it could be.
“‘Dear husband?’” Sweetie Belle said. Fluttershy gasped behind her, and the noise was enough to wake Pinkie up from her slumber.
“Excuse me,” Fluttershy said to the changeling, “who are you, if I may?”
“Ah, you must be Lady Knight Fluttershy, Duchess Andalusia. Celestia has talked quite about you and your friends,” the changeling said with a smile. “My name is Imago, and I am queen of my changeling hive – or mother, I suppose it’s all the same, really. But please, don’t let the term changeling fool you – I was raised by two loving ponies, and I am more pony than changeling. In truth, I prefer my followers be called flutters, as it disambiguates us from those repulsive monsters. I wish we could have met under better circumstances, but things are as they may. I am, however, very heartened that Celestia has sent a rescue team in for my dearest love.” She bent down and nuzzled Pip. “Oh, it’s been too long, my Pip! I’ve missed you so!”
“Uh, hi, Maggie,” he said, nervously, eyes darting at Sweetie, who was shocked; Fluttershy, whose eyes looked at Pip as if she’d started to put together what was going on; and Pinkie, whose sleepy-eyed expression showed she was still waking up. The British Army troopers and the mage continued the vigil after the unicorn told the humans bizarre things like this were perfectly normal when it came to the Bearers.
Meanwhile, the changeling queen called Imago continued to dote on a shuddering Pip. “You’re shivering, dear – did you inhale some of the nutrient mist? It’s only for larvae; it’ll poison you otherwise.” Her horn began to glow with a soft peach hue. “Hold still while I remove it from your bod—” A peach blur suddenly blasted past Imago, squeeing as it rushed past.
“DADDY!” a small voice cried.
“DADDY?” every voice save for Pip and Imago said. All eyes looked down at Pip and a small creature that was hugging him excitedly and nuzzling him for all he was worth. She looked much like a filly, save she had a turquoise saddle carapace and wings. Her mane and tail were the same red as Imago’s, and her eyes were a beautiful shade of orange. But was most telling was her white-and-peach pinto coat. Pinto coats were a very rare atavism in ponies, and in fact there were only a hoofful of ponies that were pintos – and to date, and even fewer who were capable of being a father.
“Oh, Daddy, Daddy, Daddy!” the young pony/changeling chimera squealed happily. “I’ve missed you so much! I didn’t think I’d ever get to see you, but Mommy said we had to come save you and I wanted to come help and I’ve missed you and now you’re here and now we’re here and can we go home and be a family again?” The filly looked up at Imago. “We’re back together again!”
“Yes, Rosedust,” Imago said with the love of a mother, “your father and I are back together again.”
The room fell silent for a moment, save for a stallion who was suddenly very afraid of what was about to happen next.
He had good reason to be. “Oh, Pip….” Sweetie said in the sweetest voice she could muster.
“Uh, yes?” he said, knowing what was going to come next.
Her horn lit up with a viole(n)t aura, and in one swoop, Sweetie Belle picked up her fiancée with telekinesis and slammed him against the wall with a bone-jarring thud. He slumped against the wall, out like a light.
“Oh, he’s gonna feel that in the mornin’,” McMillian said. “Remind me to buy my girl a dozen roses when I get back.”
In a rented hotel room in New Haven, Faust sat on the bed and closed her eyes. Though a casual passer-by might think her to be asleep, it was far from the case. In truth, the former Queen of the Ponies meditated.
Or rather, journeyed.
It had been the first time in ages that she had travelled through the Dreamlands, though truthfully the first time in ages that she needed to as well. The Dreamlands was part of the connection she shared with her middle daughter. In this land, this strange netherrealm that all sapient beings seemed to somehow be connected to, she wandered through its strange geography in search of her goal. The stars and moon above were a spray of jewels, the iridescent colors of nebulae and deep space just behind the starfield. The long grasses stirred with a wind that could not be felt or discerned and appeared, if anything, for looks only. Such was the nature of the Dreamlands.
In her natural form, Faust walked on, passing the occasional pony whose mental meanderings had carried them here. Most of them were artists, poets and musicians, all of which found themselves here but would return to the waking world with different interpretations that fueled their creativity. She also noticed those whose dreams had carried them to this place, to be ministered by Luna’s duties; most of those were foals, pure of heart and untainted by daily cares; all she could do was to silently wish them a wonderful sleep and a refreshing wake, as it would be up to the night princess to attend to their dreams.
A fleeting thought caught her mind: as she wandered through the Dreamlands – so long as her younger children were unaware of their heritage, she would never see them here. Their minds were as human as their bodies appeared to be, unaware of their unique heritage and thus for all intents and purposes as completely human as their father. It made her wonder about the Lost Foal: she’d lived her entire life amongst humans and probably in her mindset was more human in her mindset than some born as Homo sapiens sapiens. While the Dreamlands were all one realm, the human parts were as far as far could be, the various species somehow being separated in their domains within the greater realm.
But she walked on, never once taking her eyes off her goal. And eventually, she reached a place in the realm where a miserable being sat, held fast by chains etched with magical script and glowing with a prismatic aura. He looked bored rather than despondent, as if tired of this latest amusement and merely waiting for the next. She smiled inwardly; as always, that was his way. But that was how things were for Discord, Avatar of Chaos.
“My, I seem to have a visitor,” the draconequus said, trying to find a comfortable position in his current state. Once he looked up, a wide, genuine smile crossed his snout. “Before my eyes, who I should see! It has been too long, my dearest old friend. I apologize for not attending your wedding, and I would have sent a gift if I could. But,” he said, lifting his bindings, “I’m a bit…strung up, as it were.”
“I’m sorry. I wish I could have done something to prevent this,” Faust said, sincerely. “What did you do to end up this way?”
“The first time, or the second?” he asked, simply. Seeing the sudden look of horror on her face, he smiled softly and said, “This is my burden to bear. This is part of what it means to be Immune from the Rules. I am chaos unbridled, confusion in the flesh, and yet...sometimes when you gaze into the abyss, it gazes right back at you.” He nodded sadly as he added, “I know why you’re here. I always knew this would come. Even when you were cast out of your home and title, and I sent along this unhappy fate, I knew this would come. I knew it would come because she knew it would and feared it.”
Faust caught the reference. “Has she come to taunt you?”
“More than just that. She offered me everything, any and everything if I would only gift my powers to her. She desired that I use my craft to create a body for her so that she would not need to depend on hosts. She wishes to act, because The Rules are changing and It begins again.”
“‘It begins again?’ What begins again?”
“I cannot tell you. I would if I could, you know, but…this time, I am but the Messenger. My role this time is only to pass my message on to one who can solve them and to find the players in this new passion play. She knows this and is trying to circumvent things, just as she has before. But this time she is playing with things that will end everything if she is not stopped.”
“Then I will stop her, no matter the cost,” Faust growled.
“That is not your job. This is not our Game to play, not our Contest to win or lose. All we can do is thwart her, but we cannot defeat her. And we must not, because that is the duty of another. No, yours is to quell the fire that she wishes to touch, lest it burn both our world and that of the humans. Because whether she knows it or no, the Nightmare is about to unleash cataclysm upon both worlds.”
Faust looked in the dragonequus’ red eyes and saw in them True Tellings. He would never play her false to begin with; they’d known each other too long for that. But there was truth…and there was Truth.
“The Vagabond knows,” Discord intoned, “and if their plans are not thwarted, we will all – every single being in both realities, maybe more –suffer unlike anything either world has ever seen.”
Insight came to the queen of thoughts. “Luna. Luna is the key to revealing the Truths,” Faust said, the words tumbling from her mouth.
“Faust, I know what you are about to say, and this I promise: out of our dear friendship, I will help your daughters—”
She nodded, relieved. “Thank you.”
“—in my own way, of course,” he finished, a wolfish grin coming to his face. “Granted, I will not stymy her, as that is not my wish or wont, but I am more than a bit…peeved, shall we say, at how they have treated me. But it is in our best interest to stop the Nightmare, and even I would not wish that hell on your foal again.” He looked at her with genuine sorrow. “I would have helped her, despite our enmity, if I could have,” he said sadly. “But those Elements you created…my congratulations to you; as someone that has suffered their effect, they are truly potent weapons.”
“It gives me no joy to hear you say that,” she admitted.
“I know, and I appreciate it. Now go home and hold your second family tight in your wings and tell them how much you love them. Soon I will send you agents to assist you.”
“You have followers?” As long as she’d known him, he preferred to be a solitary actor. He never cared for followers or assistants, as it cramped his style, he’d told her often in the past.
But the grin on Discord’s face was wide and grand as he crowed, “Isn’t it grand to be loved?”
“So they’re not talking?” Mike said, angrily looking at the police officer standing before him.
“No, Commander, they are not,” the officer replied, straight-laced and somber. “We have attempted every avenue to get through to them, but they are as silent as stones.”
It was two days after the incident and Singapore was in a state of alert, having suffered its first attack since World War II, over a century past. All but martial law had been declared, and the tiny nation was in lockdown, with no one getting in or out of the country. RSAF F-35Bs filled the skies, and in a show of support Malaysia had put some of their own ATD-F1s in the air. The whole of the RSN fleet was now out at sea, doing border inspections of every nearby vessel in the straits, and any ship within a mile of Singapore’s territorial waters were ordered to stay within or be fired upon. Meanwhile, hundreds of Singapore Army troops were on the ground in the urban centers of the tiny island nation.
Because of his involvement in the whole incident, Mike had been given special consideration for his own protection: at the moment, he was the only foreign military member walking the streets of Singapore fully armed. He was now back in his NWUs, carrying a sidearm and a carbine slung on his shoulder. The carbine, a Colt SMG, was on loan from a RSAF colonel impressed with the way Mike handled himself during the battle; the pistol was the one loaned to him two days ago by the Gurkha police officer. In the latter case, Mike could not return the weapon as Rai had fallen in the line of duty; Rai’s wife insisted the Sailor carry the gun as she felt Rai would have wanted it that way.
At the moment, he and Celestia were at the Changi prison complex, the maximum security prison on the eastern side of the island. The prisoners were kept in total seclusion, and several members of the Singaporean intelligence community were present, trying to wheedle details out of them. So far, the six captives were as silent as possible, a good indicator of Special Forces training. Their faces had been sent out to intelligence agencies and units around the world in the hopes that the Raffles Six, as the news was referring to them, would divulge news of further terrorist operations or that this would reveal a direct threat against Equestria itself.
If that was the case, DJ had been a victim in a potential attack against the princesses. He glanced briefly at the sober look in Celestia’s eyes. She had ordered her ERG detachment to work with the Singaporean authorities to ferret out what had occurred and she would rely on Mike for protection at the moment. Quite a few proceeded to protest for fear for their liegelady’s life, but the sun alicorn reminded them that if not for the human’s quick reaction, she would be dead. Chastened, they finally agreed to the temporary change of duties.
And now both were here, trying to get answers to that first big question, and so far nothing was forthcoming. Until something did, they were all just hanging in the wind, and the only ones with the answers were those six. And he was going to do whatever it took to get something out of them.
“Listen, Superintendent – my wife was caught in the blast. She is a member of the Equestriani Royal Family and she could die at any moment,” he said, somewhat distraught. “Now, you can either let me see those idiots or I can make a call and in hours you can deal with SEAL Team TWO.”
Pissed at levels his wife usually inhabited, Mike turned to the white alicorn standing next to him. “Your majesty, if you were to contact the US State Department and request some assistance into the untimely death of your niece, how quickly do you think we could have DEVGRU here?”
Equally angry herself, Celestia pondered aloud. “If I talked to the Secretary of Defense herself and teleported over to San Diego to meet them? We could have them here in an hour.”
The superintendent gasped – Gurkhas were good, but the US Navy Special Warfare Development Group, abbreviated as DEVGRU and commonly referred to by the public by their old unit name – SEAL Team SIX – was a whole different level of headache completely. And they had Gurkhas, too. “You wouldn’t dare!”
The sun princess addressed Mike even as she kept her hard eyes from the officer. “Commander, I’ll be right back. Is there anything you’d care for from Arlington aside from the entire US Naval Special Warfare Command?”
The officer looked fit to be tied when someone else walked into the room. “Superintendent Lenard, you’re too serious – Commander Hengst here was just playing a bit of a joke with you. Your majesty, it’s a pleasure to meet you. And Commander, shame on you for teasing someone who wouldn’t get the humor of a right good keelhauling.”
Mike nodded, trying his best to look chastened by the man who walked in, yet not quite able to remove the smile from his face. “Aye, sir.”
The man in question was Admiral Raja Singh, head of the Republic of Singapore Navy himself. “My condolences on your wife. Has there been any news?”
Mike shook his head, and the sorrow around him was a virtual aura. “No sir. The doctors won’t tell me anything, but…I can see it in their eyes. It’s too touch-and-go to answer either way.”
“I understand how that is: my father is in the hospital battling cancer himself, and the doctors draw a fine line between being honest and being considerate. Still, I would take hope: she’s in the hands of the Singaporean Health Service, the finest doctors in all of Asia and I daresay beyond,” Singh said with a grin, wiggling his bushy eyebrows. Turning to Lenard, he said, “The armed forces will be taking custody temporarily, Superintendent. As soon as we are done, we will return them to police custody.”
“I protest!” Lenard said angrily.
“Protest all you like, Superintendent,” Singh replied. “I have a letter here from the prime minister authorizing the transfer of the prisoners to military custody. While I am recommending temporary custody, it does allow me to take permanent custody if I feel it is necessary.”
Lenard practically snatched the letter from the admiral’s hand and red. His face turned red with anger as he snarled, “We will not turn over the prisoners. This is a vi—”
The admiral got directly in the man’s face. “I am personal friends with Admiral Lambson, the Chairman of the US Joint Chiefs of Staff. If I wanted to borrow every member of the US Special Warfare Command and turn them loose on the island to tear apart every brick to find any other co-conspirators, I could do so. And believe me, Superintendent, unlike the Commander, I am not joking. Now, would you like to hand over custody temporarily, or would you like to deal with the 50,000-plus SEALs, Green Berets, AFSOCs, Marine Raiders and others that I can have demolishing the island within 48 hours? Oh, and lest I forget to mention: the President, the Prime Minister and the Ministry of Defense have already pre-authorized me to do so, as it is paramount regarding the safety of the populace.” The admiral leaned back and smiled. “Your choice, Superintendent Lenard.”
“But I—” Lenard began, and in response, Singh pulled out a phone and began making a call. “Yes. Operations Center? Get me a line with the Pentagon, Admiral Lambson direct, please. Tell him that I’m calling and that it’s regarding Operation CRATERMAKER.”
“They’re yours! Fine!” Lenard said, rushing out the door.
Singh chuckled. “Clearly he’s a paper pusher – a real military man would have known we just don’t turn over our problems to the Americans all the time. That’s what we have the British for. So now that we can get to the real crux of the issue, Commander, I will ensure that you get to see the bastards – though I’d much prefer that you don’t shoot them just yet. I’ve requested that the local 15 Office be allowed to sit in as well. We’ve word they’ll be here shortly.”
“The 15 Office, sir?” Mike asked.
“What’s a ’15 Office’?” Celestia inquired.
“UN Combined Task Force 15,” Singh answered. “It’s a UN-sponsored military group that handles anti-piracy issues and the like.” Turning back to Mike, he added, “Our local office is…rather unique. Since the Straits of Malacca has to deal with both piracy and a bunch of crackpot separatist groups, the 15 Office tends to get involved in those as well.”
“I see,” the sun alicorn said, wondering about that – what good would a separatist group do through violence that couldn’t be accomplished through discussion? In Equestria, the respective Diamond Dog and Bison tribes were given some level of autonomy because they accomplished their aims through politics, not violence. But as she’d found out once again, not every human shared her views.
A couple of minutes later, a quartet of military personnel came in. The first man, dressed in the uniform of the Russian Air Force, rendered a salute, then offered his hand. “Lieutenant Colonel Vasily Rodenkov, Russian Air Force, Chief of the local CTF-15 station. With me is Lt. Amy Mitchell, Royal Canadian Navy—”
“A pleasure, your majesty, Admiral, Commander,” she said to all three.
“—Major Gideon Gespenstflügel, Royal Griffonica Air Force—”
“It is my honor, gentleman and your majesty,” the gryphon said, gently offering his foreclaw.
“—and 1st Lieutenant Kyle Sung, US Army.”
“An honor, sirs and your majesty. And Lt. Commander Hengst, my condolences on your wife.”
“Have you been briefed in full?” Singh asked Rodenkov.
“We reviewed as much as we could on the plane trip over, and from what we know, this was a professional job, not some backwater idiots arguing that their sandspit deserves to be its own country,” Rodenkov answered. “HEAP rounds, latest body armor, shaped-charge residueless explosives. Guns that were custom-smithed and thus don’t have serial numbers or RFIDs we can use to track. No indicator as to how they arrived in the area. And, worst of all – no plans to escape; they were ready to die and men ready to die will do no manner of small and stupid things to get to their objective.” He looked the notes over again on his tablet. “As for the men themselves, non-descript. Average. Two Europeans, one African, one Native American, one Indian and one Asian. All six unnaturally quiet.”
Mitchell spoke up. “I watched a lot of American TV as a kid – that being said, anyone else getting a Twilight Zone vibe?”
“Yeah, no kidding,” Sung said. When Mike looked at him, he smiled shyly. “I’m an old TV show buff – I Love Lucy’s my favorite.”
“Well, that’s well and good, folks, but we’re not getting anything done standing outside here,” Rodenkov said. “Before we go in, let’s get something straight, Commander, and your majesty. I sympathize with the plight you both are going through, but this is business and that means I don’t want either of you here. You two are far too close to what happened, and I don’t like loose triggers. The only reason I agreed to have you here, Commander, is because since you were on-scene, you may catch something we might not. But as for you, your majesty, you cannot be here at all. There’s too much of risk of a hidden shank.”
“Shank?” she asked.
“An assassin’s spike, your majesty,” Gespenstflügel replied. “On this Earth it is known as a shank. All it will take is you getting close to the wrong person and him getting out of his bonds for just the right moment and they will have succeeded.”
A thought suddenly came to the sun princess’ mind. “What if they didn’t know it was me?”
“That would be very interesting, your majesty,” Rodenkov countered, “but unless my memory is faulty, our Earth has a dearth of alicorns.”
Mike figured it out instantly. “Can you hold it long enough?”
She smiled. “I’ve held the spell up for months at a time, Mike. I think I can handle a few hours.” She looked at his uniform for a couple of minutes then closed her eyes. There was a spray of light and magic, and a second later, LCDR Tia Einhorn, USN, stood in the place where Princess Celestia had been just a second ago.
“Bóže moj! Now I think I’ve seen just about everything in life,” Rodenkov said, surprised. The others just looked at her, completely flabbergasted.
“Uh, close, Celestia, but…your human form’s a bit too young for this rank. Lt. Sung, can you come over here for a sec?” He walked over and Mike pointed out his rank pins. “Make ones like these, but the same color as my rank pins; they’re a bit more appropriate. Also, since you’ll be the junior officer, no one will pay attention to you and you can keep an eye out for what we humans don’t see, understood, Ensign?”
Celestia smiled. “Got it.” The tabs on her uniform blinked quickly and the gold oak leaves were replaced with gold bars.
“So, Colonel Rodenkov, do you still have a problem if Ensign Einhorn and I sit in on your interrogation?” Mike asked, crossing his arms as a smug grin crossed his face.
“Only if you keep upstaging me,” Rodenkov said with a soft chuckle.
All was dark.
And then she woke up.
Princess Champagne Dreams was not happy as she stormed through the halls of Canterlot Castle. Ignoring every ceremonial guard as she wandered through the throne room, she finally arrived just as her husband was about to hold court for the day in his position as regent until one of the senior princesses returned from overseas.
“I want everypony out of this room,” she snarled, looking at everyone in turn. Within seconds, petitioners, guards, assistants and pages departed the room. As the last one left, Champagne’s horn shone with a soft pink hue and a similar glow surrounded the handles to the doors, creating a magic lock. She then wheeled on her husband. “Who was she?” the princess said in low, measured tones.
Blueblood shrugged. “Does it matter?”
“It does when it is our private chambers, Blueblood.” She sighed. “I thought we had an agreement: you married me for my magic expertise and I married you for the stature and freedom to continue my studies. We had royal issue – twice, in fact. I only asked that you be willing to keep your, ahem, ‘pecuniary dealings’ out of our chambers. I would like to at least have our foals believe our marriage is not under the threat of collapse.” She looked at him. “You did agree to that, or did I mistake the carefully worded vows that you insisted we take at our wedding?”
Blueblood laughed. “For one, dearest wife,” he said sarcastically, “our foals are grown. Silver Platter already seeks a bride and, for all your maternal concerns, our dearest daughter Gilded Lily is already delving into the sort of relationships any unicorn of sterling breed should not – or did you not notice the blue pinfeather she keeps as a love token?” He then descended from the throne down to the floor, adding, “And as to the other issue: I do apologize for that, sincerely. Our…‘associates’ sent us a message.” His magic produced a scroll, passing it to her. “And the messenger was a mare trained in the old ways of the Unicorn Dynasty. She sincerely hoped for a position as…well, I’m sure you understand. I admit, I should have had the courtesy to go to another room, but then the housekeeping staff might have suspected something amiss.” He sighed theatrically. “A shame, that: Silk Pillow could have served you well as a hoofmaiden.”
Champagne ignored that last statement; she was busy reading the scroll. “Well, too late for that, I’m afraid,” she informed him. “For one, you made sure she no longer fits the description of maiden; and plus, thanks to your confirmation, my guess wasn’t too far off. At this moment the young lady has been given the honor of representing me for the next decade at the Royal Science Outpost on the Great Southern Continent.”
Blueblood bristled. “She’s not even a scientist. She’s a luxury upholsterer, not even a mage.”
“Then all the better to ensure that we have no roustabouts in our home.” She got close to him and nuzzled him softly, deliberately, teasingly. “Blueblood, we may not love each other, but I am fond of you, just as much as I am impressed with your plans to someday retake the throne. But you cannot do that if you do not have the backing of the populace, and part of that is having a devoted marriage to the wife you love so very much – or at least appear so that you don’t have ‘relations’ with a flighty young mare proud to say she spent an enchanted evening with Equestria’s senior prince.”
“I…see. Who, praytell, did she mention this to?”
“Does it matter?” Champagne said with a smile that hid her viciousness. “They won’t be heard from because they won’t be seen ever again. Oh, and I didn’t have them meet an end, if that’s what you’re concerned about, and that is all I will say about that.” She patted him on the face and said, “I look out for your interests and mine, my prince – that’s the devotion of a loving wife after all, is it not?” Before he could answer, she turned and walked out of the throne room, leaving Blueblood to ponder whether he should fume at her audacity or be pleased at her ruthlessness.
“I see,” Imago said, as she sat down next to Sweetie Belle. “Believe me, Margravine, I never expected this. When he and I talked of you, there was a fondness in his voice, the fondness of an old friend. But I thought you were male, not a…another mare.”
“How could you not know that I was female with a name like Sweetie Belle, your majesty?” Sweetie asked.
“Please, just call me either Imago or Maggie. I do not wish to be rivals or enemies. And I thought he said ‘Sweepy Bell.’ He was never really clear on it.”
“No, that would be my cousin in Maneiapolis,” the unicorn replied. “He’s a pro hoofball player and….” Sweetie Belle suddenly trailed off as a hard realization hit her. Her cousin with the similar name did have the same coloring and a similar cutie mark. In fact, when they were younger, both were often confused for one another at family reunions. “I…uh, I can see where the confusion would be, your ma…Imago. And please, just call me Sweetie.”
As the two talked, Sweetie’s world continued to crumble. The only stallion she ever loved had a very different life during the seven years that they hadn’t been a couple – and that it was her fault. Despite the fact that she loved him, she’d wanted to continue her studies, and so she was going to spend those years traveling around both their world and the human one. It wouldn’t have been fair to him to make him wait for her, so she called it off. It had been luck that he’d still loved her when she returned, but now she knew his life had been far different than imagined. “Imago, do you love him?”
The flutter queen was diplomatically quiet for a few seconds before answering, “Yes. Since the day I first saw him. I was just a foal back then, mooning over the dashing young officer visiting my home alongside my uncle – I was raised thinking of Shining Armor as my father’s older brother, you see – and from the first moment I saw him, and forgive me if this sounds strange to you, but I imprinted onto him. He was my husband from the moment I saw him.”
The white unicorn found a glimmer of hope in that statement. “But you said you were raised by ponies. If so, you know we don’t marry that way.”
“Which is why I hoped we’d have a pony ceremony someday,” Imago answered. “My parents, Mom especially, would be very happy to see me married.” The flutter queen smiled happily until she remembered who was in front of her and immediately stopped, somewhat self-chastened.
Sweetie felt crushed at Imago’s announcement. “I…I don’t understand. I mean, how…how was….” She sighed. “Imago, I’m a senior mage and the protégé of the assistant to the Guild archmagus. As a result, I have access to a lot of classified projects and I would have heard of something like this. Not that I doubt you, but I haven’t heard of anything like your hive before.”
“I don’t know the answer to that myself. Aside from Princess Celestia, Uncle Shining and a few select other ponies, until my first clutch all I have ever known were my parents. I’m not sure Uncle Shining even told his wife or his sister – I always felt some hesitancy when he was around me. I know he loved me, but…maybe I reminded him of something. I don’t know.”
Meanwhile, Rosedust sat by her unconscious father, just thrilled as anything to be by his side. She hummed happily, a warm buzzing sound that was musical in tone.
“You must be happy to see your father again,” Fluttershy said delicately. She wasn’t sure how to react to the mess Pip was in. It had happened outside of his relationship with Sweetie Belle, and from his reaction, it seemed he didn’t even know he had a child. But at the same time, being in that kind of situation – it was a fool’s game. She was disappointed in her young friend and worried about how these changes might affect Sweetie Belle.
“Uh huh!” Rosedust chirped. “Mommy said that I’m special because I have a Daddy! Miss Fluttershy, did you know drones don’t have daddies? But I do, because I’m a princess! I mean, all the drones think of Daddy as their Daddy but Mommy says that it’s different for me. I don’t get it.” She lifted one of Pip’s limp legs and then hugged it, an adorable action regardless of the situation.
Fluttershy looked over at Pinkie. The always-unpredictable earth pony was infuriated, obviously so. Being a mother herself, Pinkie had turned around to spare the filly from seeing her rage, but it was rather obvious to those who knew her: Pinkie’s mane was beginning to flatten.
“Pinkie, I don’t think he knew,” Fluttershy said.
“No excuse,” the pink mare replied in a deadly serious tone. “Pinkie Promises are important, and he broke his promise!”
“I think relationships are a bit more important than Pinkie Promises, Pinkie.”
“See! That makes it even worse,” she hissed back. “Vows of love are a million-billion-jillion-kazillion-overkillion times more important! How would you react if you found out Big Mac had a kid from the time he dated Cheerliee before you?”
“I think I’d react better than this,” she said, looking down at the abused stallion. “Plus it would have been before my time with him, so it would have been between them to get me involved – it would be rude of me to butt in.” Pip was still knocked out, though thankfully he likely wouldn’t be worse for wear despite Sweetie Belle having gone a bit overboard in her reaction to the revelation of his other relationship.
Fluttershy turned to Corporal Hawthorne. “Any word on our reinforcements?”
“No, ma’am,” the human replied. “We’re keeping an ear out, but so far, Bob’s your uncle.”
She didn’t know what that last part meant but assumed it wasn’t good. “I see. Please, keep me informed.” Turning back to Pinkie, she said, “Watch over them, Pinkie. I’m going to talk to our new friend and see if we can get some answers.”
“Roger Dodger!” the pink party pony sang as she walked over to Rosedust, a smile on her face. “Hey, would you like to learn a little game?”
There as suddenly a look on the filly’s face as if Pinkie had just promised her the world. “Really? I mean…the drones…they don’t know many games, and….” A downcast look came over her face.
“Oh turn that frown around!” Pinkie chirped. “Now, let Aunt Pinkie teach you something fun! Watch and repeat after me! Sunshine, sunshine, ladybugs awake….”
Fluttershy walked up to the two. “Your majesty, would you be willing to tell us a bit more about yourself?” The yellow pegasus smiled softly and said, “It’s always good to learn something about a friend.” Her real reason, however, was a bit more complex: with her and Pinkie now the only two Bearers left standing and their fellow four now dying from a curse, Fluttershy was determined to get some answers that would help her sisters before tragedy occurred – and if oblivion thought it was going to get its way, it never ran into the determined pegasus mare before.
Imago nodded. “About twenty-five years ago, Uncle Shining found me. I didn’t know at the time that I was abandoned from Chrysalis’ last hive, a princess that somehow survived the destruction. All Princess Celestia could tell me was that I represented a path to peace between changelings and ponies. My parents, Gladstone and Willow, were considering resigning from their duties at the castle to return to their hometown, a small place called Sunhillow, just outside what was then known as the Ghastly Gorge. Her majesty gave them a new assignment: to return to their hometown and raise me as their foal, and when I became old enough to have my first brood of drones, then Celestia would decide what to do with me.
“Mom and Dad were afraid at first, but after agreeing and taking me home, they realized I was just a different kind of foal in need of parents. So they raised me as their foal, their only foal, and as such I received all their love, more than a changeling could possibly ever consume. And that true love, I think changed me: I molted every five years up to my twentieth birthday and each time I looked less like a changeling until you have what you see now. I stopped actively subsisting on my parents’ love after the first molting, instead somehow gaining an empathic ability that I share with my brood.”
“So how does my fianc…I mean, Pip – how does he fit into this?” The look on Sweetie Belle’s face was one of pure pain. Pip fathered a foal with a changeling – no, she’s a pony in the same way DJ’s a human; they’re both foals of two worlds – and that meant that Imago had a hold on Pip in a way the unicorn mare never could. Furthermore, Pip hadn’t quite expressed anything about his feelings for Imago; Sweetie Belle knew that the stallion loved her as utterly and completely as she did him – but how did he feel about Imago? He called her “Maggie.” Not Imago, but Maggie. A more familiar, more intimate name.
“Just before he died Uncle Shining brought Pip with him. I still remember that day: he was big, strong and had gentle eyes, the kind that melt your heart the moment you see them.” Imago sighed like a heartstruck filly; the sigh had a happy buzzing sound. Sweetie Belle knew that sound; she’d made it so many times over the years while thinking about her love. Another crack in the fabric of her heart suddenly appeared the moment that sound was uttered.
Unaware of her pain – or, considering that she was an empath, likely refraining from commenting – Imago moved onto the rest of her explanation. “In that moment, I imprinted. Admittedly, I was just ten at the time, but even a flutter like me can’t overcome all my biology. I wanted to tell him how I felt, but Mom told me it was best if I didn’t say anything at the time and that I needed to understand more about love and grow up a bit more.
“Then three years after that, he came to live in the area full-time to help set up a base nearby; to me that didn’t matter, because I got to be with the stallion I loved. I spent every moment I could with him; Mom wanted me to be careful around Pip, not because she didn’t trust him, but because there were others out there who would know what I supposedly was and she feared that I’d be attacked or worse by others who didn’t understand what I’d become.”
Fluttershy nodded. “It never occurred to you to transform?”
Imago shook her head. “Mom told me the same thing, but I was somewhat headstrong. I didn’t want to hide from other ponies, because I have always considered myself a pony.” She smiled shyly as she added, “Besides, I wanted Pip to see me as I truly was. I didn’t want to earn his heart by pretending to be someone as beautiful as Fleur du Lis or Sapphire Shores. I wanted him to see me, so he could love me, and not just an image.” She suddenly paused.
“Go ahead,” Sweetie Belle replied.
“Sweetie…I dare not. I do not wish to hurt your feelings,” Imago said, her eyes filled with sympathy. “You love him just as much as I, and you have longer, though I have more intensely. I would not hurt you with what I would say, though it would never be meant in harm.”
Fluttershy looked at her younger friend. “Sweetie, see if Corporal Hawthorne has heard anything from 9th Armor, if you please.” Sweetie nodded in silent thanks for Fluttershy’s understanding. As she walked over towards the humans, Fluttershy told the flutter queen, “Thank you. I appreciate your concern for her; not many ponies would be so kind as to spare a rival.”
Imago bit her lip softly in the way of a mare not wanting to admit something. “I bear her no ill-will, and I hope she doesn’t for me, either but….”
“But?”
“I…I love Pip. I have loved him since the first moment I laid eyes on him. I spent years working to make him mine, to have him have me instead of just pretending to be someone else.” Her body shimmered and shifted, turning briefly into a copy of Sweetie Belle, long enough for Fluttershy to see but not long enough for the real unicorn’s retreating form to turn around and misunderstand. “I love him and he me, but then the call of duty reassigned him away from me.” Imago turned her head, and it looked as if there were tears welling. “Forgive me, Duchess Andalusia. Forgive a foolish young mare in love.”
“Please call me Fluttershy. We are all friends here, Imago.”
“Thank you,” Imago said, somewhat relieved. “If it were just me, I would let him go – seeing him happy would be worth the heartache. But I cannot give him up, as selfish as it seems.”
“Rosedust,” Fluttershy said, briefly turning her head to watch Pinkie playing with the young filly. “You’d fight Sweetie because of Rosedust, wouldn’t you?”
“Rosie is special. I’m sure other parents say that about their foals, but she is a union of pony and changeling, the physical manifestation of what I’ve always been within.” Fluttershy nodded, and the flutter continued. “Usually there is one princess per 50 drones, to act as a cohort leader. I have 150 drones to my name, far smaller than changeling queens before me and certainly smaller than the monstrosity that’s occurred out there,” she said. “Furthermore, I only have one princess, my daughter, instead of an easily-disposable rival.”
“Because you aren’t building an army,” Fluttershy deduced. “You’re building a family.”
“The drones consider Pip their father, and Rosedust their baby sister despite the fact from the changeling standpoint she’s meant to command them. Pip is a father with a family, and now we need him. I never meant for anypony to be hurt, but my foals – our foals – need him.”
“Which is why I’m about to make the hardest decision of my life,” a sudden answer sounded. Fluttershy and Imago looked up, and found Sweetie Belle standing there. “I heard everything, Imago.”
“I’m sorry, Sweetie,” Imago dropped to her haunches, as if begging forgiveness. “I know you love him. I know you’ve waited your whole life to be engaged to him. Nothing I can ever say will take away your pain or make my foals’ needs any less.” The white unicorn tilted her head down and sobbed, unable to lift her head. After a few minutes, Imago leaned over and nuzzled her would-be rival. “You cannot know how sorry I am for this, Sweetie. Were it not for our children, I would let him go.”
“I know,” Sweetie said with a sob. She then raised her head and her eyes reflected the future lost forever to her. “And were I in your position, I wouldn’t envy you my pain.” Fluttershy went to go embrace the younger pony but was waved off. “I have to do this alone, Fluttershy, but thank you.” She turned her head and called out to Pinkie, “Would you bring Rosedust over here? I don’t want her to see this and be confused.”
Pinkie fought back both tears and anger. Sweetie Belle, a member of her family, was crying as though she just lost the most important thing in the world, and Imago cried for the pain she’d unintentionally caused. And in the center of it was Pip, who’d caused all this and broken his vows to both Sweetie and Imago. Pinkie instinctively wanted to join them in sorrow, but she needed to be strong for the little filly next to her. So Pinkie said, “Rosie, let’s play another game, okay?”
Rosedust smiled. “Okay!”
“Okay, I want you to close your eyes, and pretend that you’re walking through a forest, okay? When I tell you to turn, you have to turn right then, or else you run into the tree of tickles!” Pinkie’s tail rushed out and brushed across the side of the little filly, eliciting a stream of giggles. “Okay, ready?” Rosedust nodded and started walking forward. Pinkie looked at Fluttershy and gave a curt nod.
And as always, we underestimate her at our detriment, Fluttershy thought, a hint of a smile coming to her lips. As the filly walked forward, following Pinkie’s instructions, the yellow pegasus nodded to Sweetie, who walked slowly and forward, each step an agonizing movement yet so much easier than the next one she took. Step by step, leg by leg the mare moved forward, the clopping of her hooves against the broken floor tiles a threnody for her relationship with Pip. At last, she reached the place where it all began, her chest heaving and her heart on the verge of rupture.
She looked down at his still form and felt crushing guilt. Her anger had laid him low, and he looked so still and at peace, as if asleep. The time they embraced together, her watching his still form sleeping at night. She’d found him so handsome then and she did so now.
She leaned down, sending spellfire through her horn to wake him up.
It was time to say goodbye.
“So, here’s the deal: you talk to us, and we’ll get you a fair trial in a court of law,” Rodenkov told the six men. “If not, well, tovarishchi, things can get very…Soviet, shall we say, for you all.” He turned his head and called out, “Major, would you be so kind as to give these gentlemen a demonstration?”
“Absolutely, Colonel.” Gespenstflügel went over to the table, which had shown extensive wear and tear. As easily as a human wiggled one’s fingers, the gryphon flexed his right forearm then slammed it down hard on the table and pulled. His claws punched through the six-inch thick steel table and began shredding it as he dragged his claws across its length, leaving sharp metallic jags as he proved his point. He tore through several inches of the table before he retracted his claw, leaning forward with the eyes of a born raptor, saying, “You don’t tell us what we want? The next ones go through you all.”
The six men sat there in silence. They sat in two group: one of the Europeans and the one of African ancestry sat together in one area, while the other four sat away from them. The first group were silent in the way of well-trained mercenaries who knew that giving up information made someone as good as dead – usually their loved ones; the four, however, sat as still as corpses.
“Hey, isn’t what the Major did illegal?” Mike whispered. “We’re not allowed to threaten them as per the Genevas.”
It was Mitchell who answered. “Loophole. The Colonel didn’t threaten them; Major Gespenstflügel, however, just did. Because the Geneva Conventions don’t apply to non-human sapients, if the Major wanted to gut one in the hopes that it’d get them to talk, it’s perfectly legal. Granted, Gideon’s a nice guy, so he’d never do that, but he plays a mean hand of poker.”
“That’s pure sophistry, Lieutenant Mitchell,” Celestia said, a scowl appearing on her currently-human features. “I don’t think I like this one bit.”
“Ensign, I don’t think you realize the situation,” Sung replied, keeping in ‘character’ as needed. “These idiots just tried to bump off members of the Equestriani Royal Family. We do what we have to in order to get business done.”
“Are you so sure? Perhaps Princess Celestia takes a dim view of torture as a deterrent against enemies.”
“Who said anything about actual torture? Besides, her majesty might change her mind if some third-world nutjob got his hands on a nuke and set it off in downtown Canterlot,” Sung replied, voice dripping with irritation. When she looked at him, his eyes were blazing with anger. “I’m in the military because back in ’27, my parents were on their tenth honeymoon on a cruise liner, the Ocean Majesty. You know what happened? The latest flavor of Somali pirates at the time killed all hands aboard. Why? ‘Because they needed the target practice.’ That was their official answer, and why NATO nearly wiped Somalia off the fucking map, stopping only because Mendoza was a fucking coward hiding behind the excuse of the whole little alien girl custody battle.”
“You mind repeating that?” Mike hissed under his breath, a scowl on his face. Disagreeing with Celestia was one thing; so was slamming Mendoza for being easy on piracy because her administration didn’t want to play the clean-up game and frankly, Mike agreed with Sung on that. But, insulting DJ, especially now? Juggling primed high-yield grenades was safer. “You refer to my wife as a ‘little alien girl’ again and you’ll be breathing out of a straw, and that’s if I’m feeling reasonable. If I’m not feeling reasonable, I’ll just turn you over to her aunt – you know, the Princess?” After a pregnant pause, he finally snarled, “Do I make myself clear, Lieutenant?”
Sung suddenly realized what he’d said; his eyes grew wide, not at the threat but who he’d just inadvertently insulted. “Hey, sorry, Commander; you too, Ensign. I let my anger get the best of me on that one. But my point is if these folks are willing to kill the heads of state of the Alter-Earth superpower, they’re serious bad ju-ju.”
“That doesn’t make it right,” Celestia replied. “I’ll be recommending to the Equestriani government that they request the UN reconvene a new Geneva Convention so the non-human nations can sign the accords.”
“Hey, ease the tempers,” Mitchell said. “If they notice you guys are arguing, that’ll just get them to clamp down more, and frankly, Commander, I’m very sure you’ll want us to catch the guys behind these ass clowns.” Reminded of the real reason they were there, the three called a truce and let Rodenkov and Gespenstflügel work their “magic.”
After twenty minutes more of threats and scratching up the tables, they’d come no closer to getting any answers out of the six…or a reaction, for that matter. As they stepped out for a second to give an update to Admiral Singh, who had been waiting patiently, a thought suddenly came to Celestia’s mind. “Those four sitting by themselves: don’t they seem a little wooden?”
“You mean the robot squad there?” Mike drolled. “Yeah. They definitely looked like they were supplied by Mannequins R Us.”
“You noticed that too, I see,” Rodenkov said. “In all my years I’ve never dealt with such upryamyi durakov – stubborn idiots – and believe me, I’ve dealt with plenty.”
“Well, you know the creepy part about them? When you two were arguing with Kyle, they seemed to lean in forward as if they were interested in it.”
“Now that you mention it,” Gideon added, “I did see them lean in slightly after you three started your not-so-quiet little soiree.”
Sung shrugged. “Hey, I already said I was sorry, and I meant it, okay? I really don’t want to be the bad guy on this one.”
“I think I have a feeling on your theory, Major, that I’d like to explore,” Celestia commented. “Colonel, are you absolutely sure about the Genevas not applying to non-humans?”
“As it stands, yes; the UN Security Council reviewed that shortly after first contact,” he replied. “Your ambassador to the UN, Apple Cobbler, has asked for a new convention to be drawn up, but that’s not going to happen for at least a couple of years due to typical UN intransigence. You’ll all have to rely on us humans not doing a Hitler on Alter-Earth for a couple of years.”
“I see. Mike, how much do you trust me?”
He looked at her oddly. “I’m getting the feeling I’m not going to like this, am I?”
“That depends.”
“I know that look, your majesty – well, at least on humans,” Singh chuckled. “You’ve got a plan, don’t you?”
“Well, I’m not entirely proud of it, but since contact with human-Earth, several of my palace staff noticed my penchant for practical jokes and have started calling me ‘Trollestia’ behind my back,” she said with feigned sincerity. “I think I can put some of that into use now.” She then explained the plan, with everyone staring and Mike completely stunned.
“So, thoughts?” she asked.
“It…certainly is interesting,” Mitchell commented.
Sung looked at the princess with new-found respect, as he noted, “If this succeeds, this is probably going to be the weirdest footnote yet in human history.”
The grin on the ensorcelled princess was wide and wicked as she softly sang, “Trololololololololo….”
Both Mike and Rodenkov merely groaned, facepalming.
Stepping through the portal, Cadance looked exhausted. For the past two days she’d made a nuisance of herself at the various embassies in Singapore, bullying just about every ambassador there was. By the end of the second day she’d had three promises of intelligence assistance, four offers of material aid, two offers for military resources and one marriage proposal from an ambassador who probably had too much to drink the previous night. She’d thanked her fellow diplomats for the aid, politely declined the marriage proposal and, after quickly giving Celestia a rundown of events, returned to Equestria to assume the regency. After all, who knew what kind of political shenanigans her cousin Blueblood would get into if left to his own devices?
As she arrived, she was met on-site by her aid, Sundance, an older earth pony with a white coat and mane and hair the color of a blazing sunrise. Sundance was the head of the Foreign Ministry’s Crown Intelligence Service. Unlike the military and law enforcement intelligence handled by the Mage Guild’s Intelligence Division, the CIS specialized in diplomatic and cultural intelligence. As a result of the lack of overlap, the two Equestriani intelligence forces enjoyed a better relationship than their counterparts in other countries. “Welcome back, your highness,” Sundance said.
“Thank you. Please brief me on the latest information.” A second later, she regretted that. “He did what?”
She nodded. “Yes, your highness. Since the Prince assumed the regency in her majesty’s and your hignesses’ absence, his highness has ordered every Guild mage and military personnel that can be spared back to Equestria. He’s terri…ahem, ‘concerned’ that the changelings might be ready to mount another attack on Canterlot. Unfortunately this has caused some issues with our diplomatic staff. Ambassador Blossomforth has sent in a protest – she claims she needs a high-ranking mage immediately for a problem arising in Tokyo.”
“And I take it that he bullied the deputy minister?” Cadance winced; her deputy, Viscountess Kindheart was a capable diplomat, but not exactly one for standing up against those of more argumentative natures.
“He tried firing her but realized he didn’t have the authority. In any case, I’ve talked to Vicemagus Raspberry Blast and she recommends keeping the mages here for at least a week so that she can try to pass it off as a quick-reaction training session before she has widespread dissent in her ranks, seeing as they’re already worried about the Archmagus’ condition. Has news been disseminated about that yet?”
“No. Her majesty considers it a family matter and I agree,” Cadance answered. “Besides, the girls deserve their privacy in this trying time.”
“If I may speak freely, your highness?” Sundance asked.
“Always.”
The earth pony sighed. “Cadance…this has to be announced. Keeping it under wraps is not going to do anypony any good. Now I know those four have done more for Equestria than any other pony, and Celestia knows they deserve peace. But they are more than just high-ranking government officials, more than just high-ranking nobles…and if I dare say, more than just your sisters royal. They are living symbols of Equestria and whether directly or indirectly, the fate of the nation hinges on the fate of those four. The longer they are out of view, the sooner the public will find out and it will not be pretty.”
“I…see. Thank you for the counsel, Sundance. I will inform her majesty accordingly.”
“I just hope she knows what she’s doing, Cadance. Those girls are special…and if this disease ends them, Celestia forbid, I fear of what will become of the nation.” Sundance suddenly saw the pained wince on Cadance’s face and knew that whatever the nation felt, for the alicorns, it was a far more personal matter. “My apologies. I may have overstepped my bounds, but I felt someone had to say it.”
“No,” Cadance said, “I appreciate your counsel as always. Please contact Kindheart and ask her to gather up the staff for an update meeting in the throne room in a couple of hours. I would like an update on the diplomatic situation.” Nothing more to say, she headed off toward the throne room.
She didn’t make it very far before a golden pegasus in a flightsuit landed next to her, quickly rendering a salute. “Your highness….”
Cadance turned. “Hello, General. I know why you’re here. Spitfire, are we sure this is the best option?”
“With all due respect, Princess, my cousin – your sister royal – is being killed by a curse laid on her at the scene of the crime. Our most dire enemies have taken Equestria’s third largest city and turned it into a hive, and did it ever occur to you that the attack on you three the other night might be related?”
Cadance froze in her tracks. Could the changelings have figured out how to mimic humans and stage something like this? All the magical and scientific research done so far had indicated that it was impossible; for all their mimickry, fully imitating the mind of a sapient such as a pony or anything else was difficult. But the attack took extensive planning and the like even for humans, and was thus way beyond the schemes of someone like Chrysalis – and Cadance was no stranger to the meticulous planning the changeling queen could formulate and execute.
“Situation Firestarter was….” Spitfire began.
“I know. Let me think on it, General. You’re asking me to attack the city when we still might have ponies alive there.” Like possibly Rarity’s daughter and her family. With DJ now on the verge of death, for Minty and her family to be lost as well would be an emotional blow the Royal Family couldn’t take easily.
“I don’t like even suggesting it. But Rainbow knew that once we put on a uniform, we became ponies of a different stripe. Being a guardspony and being on the front lines was far easier than being a general and sending good mares and stallions to die in my place. But the situation remains as so and we can’t wait much longer.”
“I’ll make my decision by tonight. For the meanwhile, ensure all assets are in place, just in case.”
“Already did. The surviving ships from the Filly Naval Station and the Commander Pansy battlegroup are already lining up along the coast just in case.”
“Thank you, Spitfire. That will be all. Dismissed.” Not waiting for an answer, Cadance walked off towards the throne room. Nodding slightly to the ceremonial guards stationed at the door, she then walked in as one of the guards announced her presence and the room came to a halt.
“Please be patient, my little ponies,” she asked the petitioners as the court came to a stop. “Let me assume the regency and we shall be more than pleased to continue the court for the day. Please, take a five-minute recess and we shall continue.” As the petitioners filed out for a quick break, Blueblood descended the dais.
“Thanks for watching the house while we were gone, Blue,” she told him. She was friendly with her younger cousin, but knew he was always up to something. She felt that was a shame as well; when he wanted to be, Blue was more than capable of being the noblest of them all.
He walked forward, kissing Cadance on the cheek. “I am ever watchful for my kingdom, Cadance.” An awkward pause ensued before he added, “For my kingdom is as my princess rules it – it is all ours, is it not?”
Blue, why do you do this? she mused silently before adding, “I’m sure our aunt appreciates that. Now, is there anything I should be made aware of before I assume the regency?”
“You’re up!” the nurse said with a smile. “You almost didn’t make it, and quite frankly, everyone was worried.”
“I know,” the reply came. “But that’s what I get for being impetuous I suppose.”
“Should I get your husband?”
“Do you even have to ask?” Purple eyes locked onto the nurse’s. “Please go get him before I get out of bed and injure myself in the process.”
“Can’t have that, can we?” The nurse laughed. “I’ll get word to him.”
Pip opened his eyes to find the one thing he’d never wanted to see in his life: Sweetie Belle, eyes filled with tears – eyes that knew. “Sweetie,” he said, unable to utter anything else.
“Why didn’t you ever tell me?” Her voice was no longer angry, but rather…distant, unsettled, on the verge of shattering.
“I didn’t know,” he answered honestly as he sat up, still feeling sore. “I’m…I’m very fond of Maggie, but I’m not sure it’s love. I am sure I shouldn’t have slept with her. But you? You I’ve loved since the first day we met at that Nightmare Night.”
“You were rather smitten on Luna, as I recall,” she said with a smile, in an attempt to take her mind away from her detonating heart. That, of course, did not happen.
“Maybe, but Luna’s not my type. You are, Sweetie. I love you.”
“I know, and I love you. Which is why it’s so hard for me to do this,” she said as she reached down to her left foreleg and the engagement band she wore.
“Please don’t, Sweetie,” he said softly. “I need you.”
“Your daughter needs you more. Your…foals need you,” she said, the tears becoming torrents. “And Equestria needs them to remain as the wonderful beings they are instead of a pestilence on this world. But they need a guiding hoof to do so. They need their father.” She took off the band and placed it before his hoof. Her foreleg felt to her, quite appropriately, barren, hollow – empty, just like her heart. The glistening band of gold on the floor seemed to flicker with an accusation against her: you’re abandoning him, running away. You’re not fighting for what is yours, Sweetie.
“I can’t change your mind?” he asked. His eyes were starting to sting now as he realized the end of a huge part of his life. The love he felt for Sweetie was all he’d known and he’d thrown it away.
She saw the look of pain in his eyes and knew the love he’d felt for her was true and full; she never doubted it once and would always love him for that. One final time she kissed him with all the love she’d ever felt for him. In her mind’s eye she saw the life they’d never have: the wedding, foals, growing old together and the grandfoals piled around them, listening to the adventures of a bygone age. In that dream, Sweetie Belle and her husband kissed with the love born of a lifetime together – a life that would never be.
“Goodbye, my love.” And as she pulled away, her horn grew brighter, and she favored him with a silent I’ll always love you before she completely disappeared.
“Sweetie….” he said, reaching out to her and only touching the empty space where she’d been a fraction of a second before.
Watching from a respectful distance, the two Bearers and the flutter queen cried. All three knew true love when they saw it and now they’d just seen the ultimate in tragedies, two true and starcrossed lovers, never meant to be.
“I’m so sorry, Sweetie Belle,” Imago whispered. “I had no right. But for my children, I had no choice.”
Rosedust looked up at the crying mares. “Mommy? What’s wrong? You and Miss Fluttershy and Miss Pinkie and….” The filly looked incredibly confused. “Did I do something wrong?”
“No, little flower,” Fluttershy said, wiping the tears from her eyes. “It’s just that…sometimes you see something so beautiful that you can’t help but cry. It’s just a part of being pony.”
From their location, the two soldiers and Honeydew Spice looked away.
“Bloody hell,” was all McMillian could say.
“I agree,” the unicorn said.
Hawthorne was about to add to it when a voice came over the line. “Oscar Six, this is Scimitar Seven, do you read?”
Hawthorne spoke up. “Oscar Six…is a little tied up at the moment. This is Sabre Echo Nine Bravo.”
“Confirm code. Tango-Victor-Xray-Kilo-Nine.”
“Oscar-Six-Two-Niner-Echo-Golf,” he said.
“Confirmed. Corporal Hawthorne, this is Colour Sergeant Dixson, Royal Marine Embassy Detachment. REAF grabbed every one of us from the Embassy to roust you Tommys out. We’re inbound in a helicopter and will be landing in the park just five blocks south of you. It’s empty and satellite maps show no signs of the enemy. As to the enemy – giant bleedin’ bugs? Really?”
“Like you wouldn’t believe, sarjant,” Hawthorne commented.
“We don’t have much time to move. EQMILCOM’s got a battlegroup off the coast of Fillydelphia with orders to level the city the moment we’re clear. Saturate the place with Tomahawks. That’ll end the buggers.”
“All units, this is 9th Armor. We’ve got as many of them ‘entertained’ as we can; you’ll have to deal with stragglers. Best of luck. 9th, out.”
“Roger that. See you in five. Sabre Echo Nine Bravo, out.” He hopped to his feet, looking at the ponies on the other side of the room. “Okay, just got word we’ve got birds in the air, Colonel. Best get moving!”
Pip forced himself back into military mode. “Honeydew, shields up. Fluttershy, Pinkie, armor up and grab your guns. Maggie, I want you and Rosedust to teleport out of here.”
“No.” The flutter queen’s voice was firm. “I’ll not leave your side again, my love.”
“Maggie, this is not the time. Look, I have no idea where Sweetie Belle went to.”
“It was an emergency teleport spell,” Honeydew answered. “It’s designed to send the caster to the nearest safepoint.”
Imago looked at the stallion that she loved, as if saying that would brook no further argument.
He sighed. “If not for me…then do it for our daughter. Please.”
“I’ll expect you to come home soon, love. We’ve much to discuss, not the least of which is how you will resolve your problem with your former fiancée.” Her tone was nonchalant, but the look in her eyes indicated that she expected him to do so. Nothing else to say, she hoisted Rosedust on her back, then teleported out.
“Okay, let’s get out of here,” he said, heading for the doors. Looking at the humans, he said, “Can you guys keep up?”
McMillian cracked a grin on his face. “Just make sure ya ponies can keep up with us, Colonel!”
As they stepped outside, they were met by the eerie looks of what had once been the proud city of Fillydelphia. The wrecks of carriages were all over the place, covered in the ichor of hatched eggs or other goo. A couple of cars imported from human-Earth sat, their passenger areas caved in under the weight of still-unhatched eggs. Everything was stained in an ugly coat of green, regardless of what the original colors had been. The streets were cracked and broken also under the heft of the eggs. They served as a reminder that even if the live creatures had gone off to fight the distraction caused by the 9th Armor’s attack, the unhatched ones could still prove a problem.
“Okay, let’s get going, folks. Helo should be touching down any moment, and we’ve got a walk to go.” No sooner than Pip had said that, than he heard a baby’s cry.
“What was that?”
“There’s still someone alive!” Fluttershy said. “That’s a foal!”
“Okay. Hawthorne, McMillian, Pinkie, you three get to the helo and let them know we’ll be there shortly. Fluttershy and I will investigate this baby cry.”
“You sure, sir?” Hawthorne asked.
“If it’s a trap, I’m going to gallop as fast as I bucking can, and I’m sure Fluttershy’ll rocket out of there as well. Sorry, gents, but humans weren’t built for speed.” With that said, the two other ponies headed off towards the source of the sound, while the other four sped off.
“You ready, Fluttershy?” he asked as they walked forward, both on hind legs, both with weapons at the ready. He knew she didn’t know a thing about how to use it, but the fact that she was willing to shoulder the burden spoke to her strength as a Bearer.
With that, both ponies headed towards the sound of the cry.
It took Twilight Sunburn every bit of her strength not to cry as she lifted the dead drone in her (currently human) arms. He’d starved to death. The others were close to it as well, looking to her as a princess to give them temporary sustenance. But there was nothing she could do for this one.
She’d informed Ghino that she was worried about it, and his answer had been a succinct “So what?” It was clear that to him these innocent drones were throwaways. And, truth be told, he was probably right: drones were born by the hundreds, and no changeling queen would cry for the loss of a single drone – or even a single brood – when there were hundreds of thousands of drones to ministrate to.
But to her, they were innocents, who only wanted to feed and live, just like any other life out there. And yet she was forbidden to do so. Sitting in their kennels, looking at her with eyes pleading to be fed, they sat, looking up to a princess for guidance and succor.
Using a spell, she teleported the dead drone’s body into a furnace that had been created for just such a purpose. There would be no remains and no trace of it. But she hated to do that and would have to do so again in a few days unless these drones got help.
Then do what’s right, her conscience said. These drones need you. And somehow, she knew if her father had been in her position, he would do everything he could to help them. Because it was the right thing.
Looking around to make sure she wouldn’t be seen, she opened the cages and let them loose. As planned, the drones morphed into small dogs, easy enough for her to cuddle and hold. She slipped her joy and love into them, willing to let it flow, and they drank it in, licking her face in gratitude.
Watching from a hidden camera, Ghino was livid. She’d disobeyed him again. It didn’t matter about those drones – those drones were meant to be a test and the others were being well-cared for; he was probably employing just about every prostitute in southeastern Asia to keep them “fed.” But these were sacrificial lambs to be used as a bellwether for Twilight’s obedience. And now she was defying him in secret – how long until it became open rebellion?
Turning to his desk, he pulled out strange leathery paper and scratched out a quick message before pulling out a lighter and setting it on fire. The letter disappeared in a blaze of deep blue magic, leaving no trace.
He knew that his request for a replacement for Twilight would be answered. It was in his allies’ best interests, after all, to keep him happy.
“I failed her,” Pip said as they moved towards the cry. “I never meant to hurt her. But I never meant to care about Maggie, either.”
“Do you love her?”
“I’ll tell you the same thing I told Sweetie: I’m very fond of her, but I don’t know if it’s love.”
“It’s love, just a different one,” Fluttershy told him. “Imago’s an empath. She would know if you were being anything less than honest with her or yourself. Your love for her is different, but it’s there.”
“I love Sweetie Belle. I never meant to betray her.”
“Pip, just because we grow beyond the old foal’s stories about knights and love and romance, doesn’t mean that we still don’t want that in our hearts. But sometimes, we don’t get what we want, despite our best intentions. Do you know Lyra and Bon-Bon?”
“I remember them when I was younger, but I really didn’t know them well. They were adults, after all, and I was just a colt.”
“They loved each other very much. Then Bon-Bon betrayed Lyra, ran away when Lyra needed her the most. Lyra, in turn, started having a purely sexual relationship with a human male. Meanwhile, Bon-Bon had divorced Lyra and started to go insane, driven so by that point, especially since in the span of ten years, Lyra’s tryst turned into genuine love and she married that man. Bon-Bon tried to kill herself and we had her hospitalized. Lyra went to see her and begged Bon-Bon to come back to normal. I think at that point, she forgave herself and restarted her life; she’s got a new spouse and they live in Manehattan.”
“And you want me to prevent her from killing herself? I’d never let her do that.”
“You misunderstand, Pip. I want you to choose who you really love and stay with that mare. They both love you and you have a foal…foals…with Imago. But you have to choose for yourself as well – a marriage with no one happy is as empty as no marriage at all,” Fluttershy said.
“That’s incredibly wise, Fluttershy.”
“No,” she said, as they approached the sound of the cry, “it’s just kindness. And I think after all this time I know a thing or two about that.”
They approached the sound, and Pip held his rifle at ready, hoof ready to depress the trigger. Fluttershy gently clambered over the obstacles, a collection of hatched eggs and slime-encrusted detritus, to find a small foal lying there on the top of the pile, crying away as if it had been abandoned. As she got closer, she realized it wasn’t a changeling…it was a changeling/pony chimera, like Rosedust.
“Pip! Come here!” she called back and he raced up the makeshift hill. As he arrived, she picked up the foal and said, “Look!”
“Another chimera?”
“No…not just that. Look.”
The chimera was purple in coat, with the short mane of all newborn foals; the mane was a plum shade with a magenta stripe in the center; the tail repeated the motif. The foal, like Rosedust, had a saddle carapace and translucent insectile wings; both had a deep blue color to them. The foal briefly opened its eyes, revealing beautiful blue purple orbs. In every way the newborn was a younger version of Rosedust, save sex – the foal was actually a colt – but who the foal also resembled…there could be no doubt of its paternity. There would have to be tests done, just to make sure, but Fluttershy knew the answer would ring true.
She closed her eyes, reaching out to the air. Her element responded, creating swaddling clothes which she used to bundle the foal. Who knew how and why he’d been left out here, but if he’d been left out here to die, he had to have been born fairly recently; furthermore, given his mixed ancestry, this solidified the colt’s ancestry….
“We have to get out of here, Pip,” she told him.
“No kidding, Fluttershy,” he drawled as he looked at the newborn colt, wondering what had happened and how he’d been left here to die.
She pointed down the street; around the block and another street away was the giant egg farm. “Whatever’s laying those eggs? That’s not Chrysalis.”
“How do you know?”
“I’m not sure, but it’s a feeling I have. But I’m positive that’s not her in the birthing hive. Let’s get going!” With that, foal in forelegs, she immediately took to the air. Pip slung his rifle, then detached the bottom part of his boots, allowing his hindhooves clear access. With that done, both immediately raced to the helicopter a few blocks away.
“‘Bout time you got here, Colonel,” an REAF pony said as the helicopter, a CH-148 Cyclone, had its rotors ready to go. “We al…what’s that?” he said, pointing to the foal in Fluttershy’s forelegs.
“That’s need to know, Sergeant,” Fluttershy told the pony, a baleful look in her eyes that wasn’t quite her infamous Stare but was an indicator not to pry further. The sergeant got the hint and helped the two onboard.
Pinkie knew what was going on the moment she saw. “It happened, didn’t it?”
Fluttershy nodded. “We all feared this, though he never talked about it. Cadance always knew.” The foal started crying again, and Pinkie conjured up a bottle of milk to feed the hungry foal. Fluttershy took it and applied, the foal instantly taking to it. “There, there, little one,” she cooed, “you’re safe now. You’re with family.”
“Family?” Pip asked, then immediately shut up. He knew the history. Instead, he ordered to everyone, “This goes dark. Not a word out of any of you, got that?” All troops on the helicopter, both pony and human, nodded; if they were curious – and they certainly were – a colonel and two Bearers were not the kind of individuals to cross.
The helicopter reached into the sky, rushing away from the once great city of Fillydelphia, now lost to time.
“You know, Ensign,” Rodenkov said in a snarling voice, “I think I’ve had it with your bullshit examples of peace. These…things are nothing but murderous pigs that deserve a bullet in the head.”
“That might be so, Colonel,” Einhorn countered, “but they’re human and we are bound by the Genevas. I won’t let you touch them.”
“Then maybe I should deal with you first, trus!” And with that, he dived at her, managing to slam her into a wall. The young blonde yelped in pain and surprise, now worried for her safety. Instinctively, she slid to the floor, putting her hands to her face as if the motion would be a ward of protection.
“You’re not getting anywhere near her!” Mike roared, and with a fierce uppercut, decked Rodenkov across the face. The colonel, taking the blow full-force, fell, unable to counter the attack. He collapsed to a heap on the floor, dazed and spent. Mike then bent down by the dazed ensign and said to her, “Hey, you okay?”
He got his answer: the woman suddenly and completely kissed him full on the mouth, sending all of her passion into the kiss.
From where they sat, the two mercs continued to look on; impassive. Had one read their minds, the two would have revealed that they’d seen things like this before and that this was the corniest attempt to catch them off-guard they had ever seen. They’d been offered money, girls, the works before, and those ploys hadn’t worked then; they sure as hell wouldn’t work now.
Unfortunately for them, their counterparts didn’t think the same way. The four leaned forward, as if compelled by the kiss, taking in the full of its playful, sensuous touch.
The moment that happened, Celestia broke off, and with a wicked look in her eyes, grinned. “Gotcha.” She then snapped her fingers, and the room exploded with the very essence of the sun. The light became blinding and the heat intense, but the sensation came as quick as it went and Mike knew the Princess of the Sun was shielding them and the other humans, and room had become the inside of the sun itself.
The first two men reacted in shock. One screamed “Holy fuckin’ shit!” while the other looked in horror at the woman with glowing eyes, a burning golden aura around her and a scowl on her face. “What the fuck are you?” he asked.
Meanwhile, the other four men screamed in unearthly, unnatural sounds no human could ever make. As Celestia stood up and helped Mike up to his feet, she commented, “Just as I thought.”
“Just as you thought what?” he said, still feeling the tingle of her lips on his. He was very glad that she agreed to keep this a secret; even if it had been just an act this was hardly something DJ needed to know about.
“They’re not human. And they’re not using the amniomorphic, which means they’re natural shapeshifters. And since they kept leaning forward during positive emotional intensity, it only means one thing.” She looked at them, and roared, “Here’s my ultimatum: change back to normal or I dial up the spell from yellow dwarf to blue supergiant!”
The four “humans” did as bid and their bodies melted; a second later four changelings sat, tied up where the four men had been. Once they completed the spell, so did Celestia, and the room returned to its normal appearance, with no indicator that it had been a simulation for the nuclear furnace of a star just a second prior.
Mike offered a hand up to Rodenkov. “Nice acting.”
“It’s a hobby. Nice punch.”
“Yeah, it’s a hobby,” he grinned. “I owe you a drink, Colonel.”
“Damn right you do; this black eye’s going to last a week.”
“No it won’t, Colonel,” Celestia said as she waved her hand. Rodenkov felt a brief flare in his face and as it left, so did the bruising. After cracking his neck and feeling perfectly normal, he joined the three at the table.
“So, what are these…suschestv?”
“Changelings. A very dangerous species on Alter-Earth and if they’re here now on this one, humanity has a serious problem on its hands.”
“Well then,” Rodenkov commented, “if that’s the case, well, the Genevas don’t apply to non-humans, so let’s make a point, shall we?” He reached under his suit coat and pulled out a pistol. Walking over to the two still human in appearance, he said, “These two haven’t changed, so we have no way of knowing if they’re changelings or not. I suggest we find out if their corpses will transform instead.”
“Changelings can’t keep the spell up after death, so they do revert,” Celestia helpfully supplied.
“Well, please forgive me for testing this theory out myself. All in the name of science,” he said, putting the gun against the head of the nearest of the two unchanged mercs.
The message was clear. The merc with the gun to his head squealed like a pig. “Okay, we’re human! We’re human! Don’t shoot!”
“Prove it!”
“Changelings have some degree of mindreading,” Mike lied.
“No! I’m human, dammit! I can prove it! I’ll give you everything I know, everything!” he cried. His nodded vehemently, as they would be dead otherwise. “We’ll give you people, weapons, positions – the whole enchilada! Just don’t kill us!”
“What, with this old thing?” Rodenkov pointed the gun in the air and pulled the trigger; a red beam of light came out. “It’s a laser pointer I had converted from an old pistol; great for parties and other uses.” To add insult to injury, Rodenkov pointed the lasergun at the merc, then pulled the trigger. The red line danced in circles on the man’s face, harmless save for the intended humiliation. Finally, the colonel put away the gun, adding, “Personally, I hate guns. Okay, I think we have our people.”
Sung, Mitchell and Singh waltzed into the room, ready to start hearing confessions. Sung caught a look at the four changelings and inadvertently blurted, “Uh, Princess? These friends of yours?”
“Princess?” one of the men asked.
The ruse gone, Celestia returned to her native form. “Why yes I am, thanks for asking,” she replied. “As for these four, Lt. Sung, our newest captives will explain the whole deal. And I have no doubt they have plenty of things to explain. As for the others, lock them up in solitary and let no one near them – they’re emotional vampires and will take advantage first chance they get.”
Singh grinned. “Good job – we might have done things a little differently, but we wouldn’t have known about the changelings or anything of that sort. But don’t worry, now that we know they exist, we can always plan for emergencies involving them. They might know magic and can shapeshift, but every being has a specific heat signature, and heat-seeking and sensing weapons are always good for that sort of thing.”
Meanwhile, Mitchell, who was looking at her tablet, flagged over Mike and Celestia. “Commander, your majesty, you’re going to want to see this.” The pair went over and the moment they were looking at what the Canadian had reported, they looked at each other wordlessly. Celestia didn’t waste any time; the two immediately teleported out of there, urgency hot on their minds. They no longer had to race against the clock, but what Mitchell had just revealed to them threatened to change the world as they knew it forever.
Rodenkov went over and looked at what Mitchell pointed out; the moment he did, his face went ashen. “Hell of a day,” was all that he said.
He ran into the room. “Oh, you don’t know how much I’ve longed that you’d be alright!”
She smiled. “Doctor says it’s still touch and go, so I’ll still be out of sorts for the next few weeks.” She reached over and touched her approaching husband; to her, he was the brightest thing in her life.
Featherweight breathed a sigh of relief. “I almost lost you, Scootaloo.”
The orange pegasus mare waved it off. “Aw, c’mon. I’m not that easy to get rid of.” She paused, however and commented, “But it was close.” She ensnared the pegasus stallion in an embrace. “So very, very close.” The two held each other as she shivered, letting all the anguish of her near-brush with death come out.
“Listen, hon, I’ve talked to the doctors. You’re not going to be cleared for flight status anytime soon.”
“I don’t care about that right now,” Scootaloo replied. “It wouldn’t be the first time in my life that I haven’t been able to fly – literally or in an aircraft. But how’s Rainbow and the rest?”
“Still down – you’re the first one who’s back, and your injuries weren’t as harsh as the rest…that should tell you something.”
“You know what it tells me?” she said, looking into his eyes. “It tells me I’m scared.”
“I think we all are, Aunt Scootaloo,” Elusive said as he came to the door. He was making his usual rounds of checking on the family and just happened to see his Uncle Featherweight head on in, a smile on his face.
“And there’s my favorite nephew with a unicorn for a mother,” Scootaloo said, impishly; whatever hell she’d been through, her sense of humor had made it through. “How are you holding up?”
“Me? You just came out of a coma you barely survived and you’re asking me how I’m doing?” he said, stunned. “Are you sure you don’t need your head checked?”
“Be nice,” she scolded him playfully. “Are the rest of them out there? I’d like to get an update on what I—”
“Luse!” Surprise rushed into the room, grabbing him. “Quick! Something happened to Cinny!”
“What?” He immediately rushed out of the room, Featherweight following close behind. Scootaloo, knowing that the doctor would give her a lecture like no tomorrow if she even considered moving, stayed put.
The unicorn stallion rushed down the hall, following his cousin as she blasted forward as fast as she could, making hairpin turns around corners and nearly losing him at one point. Finally, he caught up to her, panting heavily as he had to break into a full gallop in order to arrive. They’d arrived in the hospital waiting room and from the quiet, you could swear someone set a bomb off there, silencing its occupants to full effect.
The older adults: Macintosh, Thunderlane, Noteworthy and Soarin’, all looked in the same direction, their faces stoic masks of sorrow and anger, the look of males who couldn’t break down, not right now when there were others that needed them. Apple Butter sat in her chair, watching over her nephew Apple Bushel, focused on him instead, knowing that the news would hurt her beloved husband immensely. In the center of it, Bubble Berry was trying to comfort Cinnamon, who had completely broken down crying; even her faithful pet bunny Diablo tried to lend a paw.
Elusive walked over the heartbroken pony. “Cinnamon? What’s wrong?” She simply turned to him and started crying hysterically, as if someone had died.
And then that’s when he heard the television. Looking up, the screen showed CNN’s Equestria broadcast, the stern anchorpony delivering the grim news:
“And we return now to our top story: the incident in Singapore on human-Earth has claimed its first major victim, American author Daisy Jo Martinez. Ms. Martinez, better known to Equestria as the Lost Foal Sandalwood, died today after succumbing to injuries. At this time further details are not known, but a spokesman for the Singapore Police Force insists they have the perpetrators in custody and will be prosecuting them to the maximum under Singaporean law. At this time, neither the Martinez family or Ms. Martinez’ birth family, House Lipizzan, has been reached for comment.”