Convergence Side-story: Downtime.

by Doctor Fluffy

Keep Your Enemies Closer

Chapter Six: Keep Your Enemies Closer.

Written by:
Doctor Fluffy,
Jed R,
TheIdiot.

Editors
RoyalPsycho,
The Void.

***

“You do not truly know someone until you fight them.”
Seraph, The Matrix Reloaded.

***

Canterlot Palace Courtyard, Year 2 Anno Harmonia - ‘Downtime’ Equestria.

Month 1. Day 8.

Marcus walked up to DisQord bright and early the following morning, finding him waiting in the courtyard. The Draconequus was in an exaggerated yoga stance, made more so by several of his limbs having literally rotated to different positions. It was a subtle, but surprising welcome, reminder that this being, while he was not the Discord that Marcus had learned to work with, was still Discord. Even if he did insist on his name having a Q in a stupid place.

“Well,” he said to the Draconequus, “it’s zero eight thirty. You ready?”

DisQord smirked. “Oh, I am, Colonel Bogey. But the real question is - are you?”

“I guess I am,” Marcus said. “So - what we gonna do?”

DisQord grinned. “Oh, I have a spar in mind…”

He brought up a talon and snapped it...

***

… and suddenly, Marcus found himself in what looked like a training dojo. Opposite him stood DisQord, dressed in a blue training gi with a red Q printed on it. He smiled, before making an expansive gesture with one hand.

“This is a sparring dimension,” he said in a faux-Laurence Fishburne voice. “Similar in most respects to the dimension you call ‘reality’, loose and simplistic a term as that may or may not be.”

Marcus rolled his eyes.

“It has the same basic rules, rules like gravity,” DisQord continued. “However, it lacks other rules, such as your human conception of time. Crucially, it also does not include rules like mortality in the traditional sense. Any injuries you suffer here will heal, any death you suffer here will ‘reset’.”

Marcus growled. “Cut the crap, DisQord. You said you had a spar in mind, so let’s spar.”

“Oh, I didn't mean spar me,” DisQord chuckled, and with a flash he was gone. Tensing, Marcus looked around, when suddenly -

Boom.

He found himself smashing into a wall, the wood splintering under his weight. Gritting his teeth as he slammed to the floor, he looked up, to see…

Golden armour, alabaster coat, a long slender horn and wide, white wings. A sneer on her face, and a glaive pointed at him in challenge.

“Prepare to die, insect,” the spitting image of Celestia said with a growl.

Before Marcus could react, she dashed forward, and he barely managed to duck before the glaive smashed into the wall with enough force to splinter the fragile wood. He rolled, before drawing his pistol and firing at her - only for the bullets to miss as she dodged, zooming up. Desperately, he fired at her again, but she was too fast for his aim. She landed opposite him, grinning.

“So you are Marcus Renee,” she said, sounding almost bored. “I must admit, you disappoint me. I hear such impressive things about you.”

“Uh huh,” Marcus said scathingly. “And you're Celestia - though from the oversized hockey stick you're swinging around, I'd say you're that Asshat Solawiener I've heard so little about.”

She snorted. “Astra Solamina Maxima. I realise big words are hard. And this thing I am holding is called a glaive. Do you know what a glaive is -?”

She suddenly dodged as he fired again, and then she came to a stop as he stopped firing.

“Yeah,” he said, grinning. “And I also know how to rile up stuck up bitches like you.”

Solamina chuckled. “Is that so? Tell me, do you think ‘riling up’ somepony so superior to your pitiful self is a good idea?”

Standing up and holstering his pistol, Marcus held his arms out, daring her.

“Come on then, bitch,” he snarled. “Hit me with your best fucking shot, if you're so superior.”

Solamina spun her glaive, before holding it to a guard stance. “You first. I insist.”

Moving as fast he could, faster than he had ever been able to move before, Marcus charged at her, drawing his combat knife as he did so. He swept it outwards and swung at her, but she simply dodged backward. He stabbed forward, and she leapt above him, landing behind him with a deft grace. He turned, dodging the harsh downward swing of her glaive, before darting forward, slashing at her face. She ducked the cut and rammed forward, headbutting his chest, and he grabbed her neck, aiming to snap it, only for her horn to glow and blast him backwards. He smirked - whatever the spell had been, it had done no damage.

“Magic ain't gonna slow me down,” he said, before holding up a hand. A spell flashed out towards Solamina - only for a translucent shield to appear between them, flashing and deflecting the spell into a wall.

“And magic will not slow me,” she retorted, spinning her glaive. “I'm curious - was that your best spell?”

Marcus growled, before bringing up his other hand. In a flash, another spell lashed towards Solamina, whose shield simply absorbed it. Growling, Marcus lowered his hands, ignoring the Alicorn’s smirk.

“I admit,” she said, “that's a decent level of raw power. Unfortunately, you lack precision. Allow me to demonstrate.”

Her horn glowed, and suddenly a hail of needle-thin bolts of magic lashed out, impacting around Marcus and forcing him to dodge. With a growl, he manoeuvred himself to get close to her, before lashing out with his knife again, only for her to have disappeared and reappeared behind him. He rolled, dodging another spell, before standing in a guard stance as she planted the haft of her glaive on the floor, smirking at him still.

“For a human,” she said in a patronising tone, “you're quite good - certainly fast. But I've killed creatures ten times your skill, and they -”

She dodged left, avoiding a sudden hail of bullets as he swept his pistol out and fired at her again, only for her glaive to move, faster than thought, and deflect the bullets, before spinning once and planting in the ground.

“You talk too fucking much,” Marcus growled, and he fired again. “This is a motherfucking war, not high school deb-”

Her horn flashed and a spell shot the pistol out of his hand. He blinked in shock. She wasn't smirking anymore.

“Eleven thousand years old,” she said with a snort. “I know war. Certainly enough to know when I can afford to talk, little man. There is not a trick you could use that I would not know.”

Marcus growled, before raising his hand and summoning the pistol. He started firing again, this time charging as he did so. She deflected the shots again, and then her glaive caught the knife as it swung for her face again. She grinned, and suddenly the haft of the glaive had caught Marcus, flipping him over and throwing him into a wall. This was followed by another spell, this one blasting the wall apart and causing sawdust and smoke to fill the space.

After a moment, Marcus stepped out from the wreckage, limping slightly but otherwise unhurt.

“That it?” he asked.

Solamina grinned. “No. This is.”

And suddenly she was in front of him. He dodged another hack, before ducking under a sideways slash, but she kept coming, relentless, her glaive spinning and stabbing and slashing and forcing him to dodge, weave and duck between it and the space around it. He fell back, barely able to try a counterattack as she pressed him.

Suddenly a spell flashed from her horn, smashing into the floor and sending debris up, disorientating Marcus for a split second - and then the glaive flashed, severing his arm from his shoulder, before embedding in his lower torso.

He blinked, gagging as blood filled his mouth. She grinned, withdrew the glaive, and then swung it again. Marcus’ head felt light, and was everything always… this… red...

***

… and then he was back in the dojo, the room unharmed and bearing no sign at all that a battle had just taken place. Rubbing his neck slightly, feeling drained, Marcus scowled as DisQord appeared.

“How did she beat you?” he asked with a smirk.

Marcus shook his head. “I… she was just too damn fast.”

“She is fast,” DisQord said. “Your enemy, Queen Celestia, relies on brute force application of wide-ranging destructive magic that can level whole cities, but she hasn’t the finesse. She’s a warhammer. A flail. A building-sized greatsword.”

“Yeah,” Marcus said, nodding. “I saw the reports from Boston.”

“So you know how she fights,” DisQord said. “And her style - so my counterpart tells me - flummoxed David Elliot for a while because a warhammer is damn effective, and requires no subtleties. As you just experienced, however, Solamina is a duellist.”

“Was that really her?” Marcus asked.

“Not even close,” DisQord said with a chuckle. “The real her is much faster, much stronger, and is much more experienced - although, I might add, she’s just as sarcastic. She has no need of brute force when to her, one spell the size of a needle that pierces your heart is as good as five spells the size of asteroids that vaporise your continent.”

“Then why…” Marcus tried not to wheeze. It was psychosomatic… probably. “Why did she let me go on that long?”

“Because for one thing, she wasn't the real Solamina,” DisQord said. “I am not capable of accurately simulating all of the powers her… black squiggly gives her, as my counterpart would put it. And even if I could, I wouldn't throw you so in the deep end like that - it wouldn't really teach you anything to die five seconds in.” He took a breath. “Secondly… I’m afraid she's rather like that. She seems to relish a good fight these days. She was… enjoying you.”

“Fuck that,” Marcus said, growling. “Send me at her again, I’ll -”

“You're not nearly skilled enough,” DisQord said, holding up a claw. “You're a human soldier of the twenty first century. Guns, brute force boxing and some limited martial arts, that's your arena. The art of duelling with blades is not your forte, and against her you're bound to keep being outmatched until you figure some finesse out… which let’s face it, you're not going to, are you?”

“Uh… maybe?” Marcus said with a frown.

“Yeah, no,” DisQord said with a chuckle. He paused, looking thoughtful. “What we are going to do is play to your strengths. You don’t send a man used to machineguns out to fight with a muzzleloader. And, if that one book about West Virginia is any indication, vice versa.”

“So what do you suggest?” Marcus asked. “Mom’s old lever-action?”

“You're confusing this metaphor. First, you need to know how she fights, know what you're up against,” DisQord said. He grinned. “Oh look - now you do. And we’ll do this again, and again, and again, until you're as sure of her style as you are your own. We’ll do it for your Queenie too.”

“And you do not truly know someone until you fight them,” Marcus said, raising an eyebrow.

“Precisely,” DisQord said. “I must say, you're not nearly as slow as I thought you might be. There might be hope for you yet.”

Marcus chose to ignore the faint insult. “So what now?”

“Now?” DisQord repeated. “Now, we get everyone in your team to know Queenie and Solamina the same way. Stephan, Trixie, the Element Bearers… when you know how they fight, you can take them on as a group, and learn how to exploit what you know. I’d put Brigadier Elliot through the same against your Tyrant, but he’s not here - and he has a little hands-on experience with Queenie already.”

“Fine,” Marcus said, groaning. “But next time, no dojo. Use a street or something: it's a more accurate representation of where we’ll be fighting.”

DisQord shrugged. “That is doable.”

Marcus sighed. “Why do I have a feeling we have a long way to go?”

“Because you do, Colonel Bogey,” DisQord replied with a slow smile. “But fortunately for you, you have time to get there. Best not to waste it.”

***

Canterlot Palace Courtyard, Year 2 Anno Harmonia - ‘Downtime’ Equestria.

Month 1. Day 15.

They were all dressed in the same black undersuit. It was thin, padded in certain areas, and one could subtly tell that it was actually a two piece garment, top over trousers, connected by a zip. They were all similarly built - lean, muscular, tall.

Stephan, clad in his armour, watched as the group - two rows of five - moved their swords through a series of katas, a blonde woman with a stern expression standing at their head, shouting numbers as they went.

“One, two, four, two, five, one, three!” she was yelling, the troopers moving through a series of positions as they went.

This was Captain Samantha Yarrow, Stephan recalled, a woman whose counterpart in the PHL had a rather checkered history to say the least. Stephan tried to ignore that as he watched the group. Fortunately, working with Celestia had gotten him acclimated to separating one version of a person from another.

“They're practicing well,” Trixie’s voice came from next to Stephan. He looked to his left, to see her appearing, gaze fixed on the other humans. “Moving in sync. Stances are perfect.”

“They should be perfect,” Stephan said. “They're Iron Clads - best I can tell, some sort of augmented troops.”

“‘Augmented’?” Trixie repeated. “You mean, like…”

“Something similar to Marcus,” Stephan said with a quiet nod. “Not quite as powerful as his runes, I don’t think, but it's mass produced for a similar effect, and probably a little more stable. They're supposed to be stronger and faster than ordinary soldiers. I'm guessing ‘more skilled’ comes under that too.”

“Well, can't deny their skill,” Trixie said with a shrug. “Kinda wonder why they're bothering, though - they're frontline, aren't they?”

“They’re supposed to be,” Stephan replied, smiling.

“Then don't they have guns?” the Spy asked. “I mean, yeah, they're supposed to be low on ammo, but…”

“These guys supposedly have new weapons, special issue, to go with their armour,” Stephan said. He remembered the overweight, ratty-looking engineer - Halford? - had talked him through coilguns and rifles until he was reeling from numbers and figures (and bad breath). “So they have guns. Might be pretty handy with ‘em, too, if the augmentations do anything for their accuracy.”

“So… the swords?” Trixie asked.

Stephan tapped his machete. “I'm not one to talk.”

“Yours is a special-occasion kinda deal,” the blue mare pointed out. “Not a dedicated three hour training regimen for an entire corps of special troops.”

Stephan shrugged. “Some of these guys are ‘knights of Albion’. I think the swords are a thematic thing for them or something.”

“Then what about the other guys?” Trixie asked. “Because I checked the manifest, and there were three knights in that twelve man group.”

“I don't know,” the Major admitted.

The two of them watched the group of augmented soldiers continue their katas for a few more minutes, Yarrow still calling out numbers that corresponded to stances and moves.

***

A little bit above the courtyard…

The Elements had been, essentially, left to their own devices. Just above the courtyard, above all the soldiers training, somepony had built a room. It had a curiously abandoned feeling to it - as if nobody had used it for more than a decade.

It made for a wonderful vantage point, though.

“Are humans normally so...?” Rainbow Dash asked, looking down at them.

“So what?” Twilight asked.

“I don’t know,” Rainbow said. “It’s just… something about the way the humans with swords move, the way they’re proportioned… It’s different and I don’t know why.”

“They do, um, seem a bit different from Marcus,” Fluttershy added.

***

“Well, they look the part,” Trixie admitted.

“They do at that,” Stephan agreed.

“Yeah, but we both know looks aren’t the same as balls,” the mare continued. “What about when they’re in a real fight?”

Stephan rolled his shoulders. “Let's see.”

He approached Yarrow, who was still leading the troops through their exercises. She blinked as he approached, before straightening.

“Atten-tion!” she snapped smartly. At once, the other troopers stood to attention as well, bringing their swords to rest, point facing downward.

“At ease,” Stephan said, raising a hand. He turned to address Yarrow. “Captain. I see your troops are hard at work.”

“Yes, sir,” Yarrow said stiffly. “Detail, return to katas! Double time, I want to see sweat on your ugly faces!”

The soldiers returned to their guard stances and began running through their sequences again. Yarrow stepped away from them and motioned for Stephan to do so as well. He did so, recognising that she didn't want their talk to distract the troops.

“Anything difficult?” Stephan asked, looking over the training soldiers with interest.

“Just running through basic sword katas, sir,” Yarrow replied. “Tricky stuff to get exactly right, but when we go up against trained Royal Guard spearmen and duellists, we’ll be thankful.”

Stephan didn't say anything for a moment, before tapping the hilt of his machete. “I've done a little sword work, myself, though I've not dedicated much time to training with it, really. I've found it's good in the short term, but less so overall.”

Yarrow smiled. “Well, I'm sure you have, sir. We’ve had a different experience with the Solaminan Empire.”

“I've heard a little, but my info is short, at present,” Stephan said. “I'm surprised you still put swords as high a priority as you do: I've seen the specs for your Iron Clad weapons. Some pretty decent kit.”

“Yes, sir,” Yarrow agreed, turning to look back at her troops. “They pulled the stops, that much is certain. Still, we’ve learned that ammo is not something you take for granted that you’ll have. Especially with a foe that likes close combat so much. As it is, sword training is one of the basics of the Clad program, even for non-knights.”

“I see,” Stephan said, folding his arms. “What sort of swords? You can't be using just plain metal?”

“No sir,” Yarrow said with a smile. She held up the sword. “Runically enhanced sword, variety of enhancements - yours similar?”

He tapped the machete again. “Can shapeshift into a claymore, cut through most things. Changeling magic.”

Yarrow nodded. “Sounds good.” She paused. “I’m assuming you had a reason beyond basic questions to talk to me, sir?”

Stephan nodded. “I'll admit, I was wondering what the application was.”

Yarrow tilted her head slightly. “The… application?”

“Yeah, of sword-fighting in a modern-day military,” Stephan clarified. “My sword is more of a backup tool, and I can't really have used it more than a half-dozen times. Even if you expect your ammo to be scarce, I wouldn’t have said the answer was… well, swords.”

Yarrow nodded slowly. “Well, a lot of the war with Solamina’s been a close-quarters one. You can understand that decent close-quarters drill would be important.”

Stephan raised an eyebrow. “With swords?”

“Medieval-styled opponent,” Yarrow shrugged. “A combat knife is no good when your enemy has magically-enhanced plate armour, a spear and a sword to hack at you with. You need a weapon to match up with that.”

Stephan nodded slowly. “I see what you mean.” He threw a glance at Trixie, who was shrugging. “Alright. What would you say to a spar?”

Yarrow frowned slightly. “Alright, sir. If you'd like. Detail!”

***

Still slightly above the courtyard.

Fluttershy imperceptibly slunk back against the wall.

“Don’t worry,” Rainbow Dash said, one hoof to Fluttershy’s back, just above her wings. “It’s a sparring match. We had them all the time when I got my black belt. Nobody is getting hurt.”

“Well, that’s a relief,” Rarity said, smiling. She sounded…

“Are you looking forward to this that much?” Applejack asked.

“Well, it’ll be a pleasure to see human sparring,” Rarity said. “Especially where nobody, ah…”

“It’s probably for the best, we’re going to have to learn,” Twilight said solemnly. “But I was never really a big fan of the trial-by-fire method of teaching.”

“Trial by fire does sound bad,” Pinkie Pie added. “You might get horrible burns!”

“Pinkie, that’s not what-” Twilight started. “Huh. I guess that does work.”

Pinkie Pie just looked confused for a second, shrugged with both hooves outward, then produced several bags of kettlecorn from no discernible source.

“Did… did you say it like that on purpose?” Twilight asked.

“You may never know,” Pinkie Pie said cryptically, and plunged her muzzle into her bag of kettlecorn.

***

The troops running through their katas stopped.

“Clear the playing field, form a perimeter,” she ordered. “Me and the Major are going to have at it.”

One of the Clads let out a whoop, which was quickly silenced by a glare from Yarrow. The troops moved to the edge of their assigned practice space as Stephan and Yarrow moved to the centre.

“You'll be alright sparring in your armour?” Yarrow asked, motioning to her own bodysuit. “I'm a little less encumbered than you.”

“This stuff’s designed to not encumber me,” Stephan said with a smile. “Light materials, runes designed to lighten the weight in addition to other runic enhancements. Frankly, I’ll need it if you guys are as augmented as the specs suggest.”

Yarrow nodded. “Gotcha.” She motioned to one of her troops. “Toss the Major a flamin’ bastard.”

Stephan raised an eyebrow. “A what?”

“Nickname,” the man Yarrow had pointed out said. “They're bastard swords, hand-and-a-half, and the runes can make them into flaming swords. So, ‘flaming bastards’.”

“Huh,” Stephan said with a slow nod, inspecting the weapon. It had a small switch at the bottom, and the blade had runes etched into it. “Alright then. Any rules?”

“We usually go for ‘no injuries’,” Yarrow replied quietly. “Other than that, anything you can do, though since this is a sword fight…”

“Me demonstrating my kickboxing would be a little superfluous,” Stephan finished with a wry smirk. “Right, okay.”

He brought the sword up into a guard stance, weapon raised at a mid guard. Yarrow moved into her own, a high ox-guard above her head.

And then he charged, bringing the sword up and then down in a vicious vertical overhead strike… only for Yarrow to nimbly sidestep him and smack him in the chest with the butt of her sword. He stumbled back, and she settled into another guard stance. Rolling his shoulders, Stephan stabbed forward, only for Yarrow to, with a single deft move, divert the point of his blade to the ground and leave him open to another smack in the chest armour. He blocked her arm instinctively, before trying to throw her, but she planted herself, broke the grip and pushed him away, before stepping back into a guard stance.

“Damn,” Stephan muttered, shaking his hand. “Not bad.”

Yarrow was frowning. “Permission to speak candidly, Major?”

“You’re not Bundeswehr, you can speak how you want around me,” Stephan replied.

“Alright,” the Captain said. “I’m beginning to see what you mean about your not having dedicated training with swords.”

“That obvious, huh?” Stephan asked, wiping his face with his hand. “Alright, try this.”

And suddenly he swung at her, a wide slashing strike. She dodged backwards deftly, before bringing her sword to guard as he moved again.

***

Above the courtyard…

“This is almost relaxing, actually,” Fluttershy said.

“How?” Rarity asked, confused.

“Well, it’s like… like watching some of my animal friends playfighting,” Fluttershy explained. “Nobody’s doing it to hurt anyone. They’re just doing it because…”

“Flutters, I don’t quite think it’s the same thing,” Applejack said.

“Yeah,” Fluttershy agreed. “I mean, it’s not, but… that’s what it feels like.”

“I get it,” Pinkie Pie said, lifting her muzzle out from her bag of kettlecorn. “Besides, this is… after what DisQord put us through, this is easy.”

“Stephan… isn’t that much of a swordfighter,” Twilight said.

“What?” Rarity asked.

“Well, Shining Armor… it was hard not to see some of his moves now and then,” Twilight said. “I’m not seeing much in the way of technique with Stephan.”

***

Stephan was swinging his sword wildly, trying to land a strike. He swung again, and she ducked. Again, and she loosely parried, diverting the blade. Another strike, and another parry. Another strike, another dodge. All the while, her expression was nothing but a slight frown. He struck out again, and she blocked. Another series of strikes were blocked seemingly effortlessly.

Mixing it up, Stephan tried closing the distance, throwing a few kicks and punches in, but the sword prevented him from using his full moveset, and Yarrow was able to block and dodge his strikes, her own hand-to-hand moves a little less polished than his (not helped by her own blade), but definitely effective. She jumped back, dodging a sweeping kick, before blocking a jab and hitting him in the solar plexus with the butt of her sword so hard that he stumbled backwards again. He slashed at her and she parried again, before settling back into a guard stance, awaiting his next move.

In desperation, Stephan reversed the grip on his blade with a deft manoeuvre, before stepping into an old knife-fighting stance and slashing at Yarrow, but all she did was block again. He stabbed forward, but she knocked the point into the ground, before bringing her blade up to his throat.

“Hm,” was all she said.

Stephan glanced down at the blade at his throat, before stepping back. Yarrow moved the blade to her side, facing him dead on, and bowed.

“Thank you, sir,” she said quietly.

“For making an arseloch of myself, you mean?” Stephan replied good-humouredly. “Well, I guess I have to be scheisse at something in my military career. I thought it was just taking orders I thought were gottverdammt verruckt.”

“Hm,” Yarrow said again.

Stephan sighed, and moved off, only to see Trixie trotting into the centre of the ring.

“Alright,” she said, a pair of blades floating into place either side of her. “You had your warm-up, Captain. Now you get the real deal.”

Yarrow blinked at her. “Apologies, Ma’am, I’m not familiar with…”

“Leutnant Trixie Lulamoon, Bundeswehr,” Trixie replied. “Also known as the Blue Spy. And I have dedicated training time to my blade-work, which means this should be a little harder work for you. Unless you think you’re not up to it?”

***

Above the courtyard

“Ooh, they’re gonna fight Trixie!” Pinkie Pie gasped, eating more popcorn.

“It’s Trixie,” Twilight said. “How much of a challenge could she be?”

“Stephan mentioned that he trained her,” Rarity pointed out. That was true enough - in the brief time they'd trained with Stephan he'd mentioned training Trixie, though the mare herself had not been present at that particular session (or any subsequent ones).

“Yeah,” Rainbow Dash smirked, “but still, c’mon. Trixie.”

***

Yarrow spun her sword in hand once, before giving a thin smile. “If you like, Ma’am.”

She moved back into position, raising her blade into a guard stance. Trixie, however, motioned to the ring of Iron Clads.

“Let’s make it extra fun,” she said. “Pick two of your best, and let’s see if all three of you can take me on.”

Yarrow lowered her blade slightly, before pointing to a young woman with short curly blonde hair and an asian man with a mohawk.

“Makoto, Sir Eleanor,” she said quietly. “You’re up. Triangle.”

Makoto nodded, moving to one point, and Sir Eleanor to another, until the three Clads formed a triangle around the Spy. She was grinning.

“Oh, this will be good,” she said. And suddenly she was gone, and Makoto was stumbling forward, shoved by a spell from the Blue Spy, who was now standing behind him. She was grinning, before she suddenly teleported in front of Yarrow, her blades spinning. Reacting quickly, Yarrow stepped back, barely blocking the strikes as they came.

Trixie was still grinning as Makoto and Eleanor charged her from behind. In a flash, two more blades had appeared, all four now controlled by her magic.

“Where'd they come from?!” Eleanor called out.

“Let a lady have some secrets,” Trixie quipped.

“I am a lady!” Eleanor snapped back.

Trixie chuckled as she dodged a stab from Yarrow. “Not yet you aren't, kiddo.”

Eleanor growled and lashed out, but Trixie caught it, and Makoto’s subsequent attack, before lashing out at Yarrow, who barely blocked. Trixie blocked the other two’s subsequent strikes, before pushing them both back, all the while pushing her offensive on Yarrow. With a grimace, Yarrow blocked another blow, before holding out her hand, which suddenly flared with light as a spell slammed into Trixie’s face and blew her backwards. She suddenly vanished.

“Tricky,” she said shortly. “Very tricky. Didn’t know you could do that. Now I do.”

Suddenly, there were three of her, once facing each opponent. At once, they charged at the Clads. Makoto slashed at his opponent, but she disappeared in a blue haze. Eleanor moved to block a strike, but the image of Trixie passed through her and vanished. Yarrow, meanwhile, dodged the last Trixie’s attack, but her own strike dispersed the image. There was a momentary pause as the three Clads glanced around, searching for their opponent, and then a flash of light appeared, heralding a cloud of smoke.

“Clear this!” Yarrow barked. Sir Eleanor held out her right hand, and in a blast the smoke dispersed, though there was still no sign of Trixie.

And then suddenly a hail of blue spells appeared, flashing towards the Clads. All three of them rolled back to their starting points and crouched, raising translucent barriers around themselves, and then Trixie appeared in the centre of the three, still grinning.

“Shields and basic attack spells, with a few minor extras,” she commented with a nod to Eleanor, who scowled. “Okay, what else?”

Yarrow glanced at Makoto, who brought a hand up. A shockwave of white energy lashed out, and the Trixie in the middle of the group disappeared, replaced by a wide-eyed Trixie who was standing behind Yarrow. The Captain immediately spun, slashing at her, but she blocked.

“A silencing spell?” Trixie asked, sounding surprised. “That’s pretty advanced magic.”

“The Watcher’s Council offered some of us training,” Yarrow said conversationally. “I didn’t take it, but Makoto and a few others did.”

Trixie smirked. “Right, good to know.”

She teleported back to the middle of the group, before stomping her hoof on the ground, a new host of blades appearing around her and spinning.

“I’m guessing,” she said to Makoto conversationally, “that you can’t silence that quick twice in a row?”

Makoto said nothing, merely gripping his sword tighter.

“Nice, not telling me your weaknesses,” Trixie complimented. “Smart move, ‘Iron Clad’, but your silence gives me all the answer I need.”

And suddenly her blades were spinning in a blur around her. She advanced on Yarrow first, who brought her blade up in a guard stance warily. And then…

“Leutnant!” Stephan snapped.

Trixie’s swords, apart from two, disappeared. She frowned at Stephan, who had a neutral expression on his face.

“What?” she asked.

“We’re not trying to kill anyone,” Stephan told her sternly. “I think that last move was a bit overkill for sparring, don’t you?”

She sighed. “Maybe a little, but I wanted to see what these guys could do.”

“We’ve seen quite a bit,” Stephan pointed out. He looked to Yarrow. “Captain. Apologies for disturbing your training session.”

“Not to worry, sir,” Yarrow replied stiffly. “It was a good demonstration.”

Trixie smirked. “You weren’t bad, Captain. But you’re going to need to bring your A-game for the Solar Empire.”

“Duly noted, Leutnant Lulamoon,” Yarrow replied, inclining her head slightly. “And you’ll need to bring your A-game for the Solaminan Empire.”

Trixie’s smirk faded slightly, and she nodded back, before following Stephan off.

***

“Apparently she could be… quite a challenge,” Rarity said quietly.

“Something tells me we have a lot of catching up to do,” Applejack sighed.

“Well, let it come!” Rainbow Dash said, with a smile. “We can take it.”

“I hope you're right,” Twilight said quietly. “I really hope you're right.”

***

New New York Central Park, Year 2 Anno Harmonia - ‘Downtime’ Equestria.

Month 1. Day 25.

A man in a shabby tweed jacket, carrying a smoking pipe, stood in the central park and took a deep breath. His clothes were smart enough - a shirt, shabby waistcoat and tie, with plaid trousers - but they were worn and threadbare, as though they'd been worn to death. Under one arm he held tucked a heavy-looking tome, and his wrinkled face was furrowed in concentration.

Next to him was stood a man in the tall, imposing armour of an Iron Clad: the steel armour had runes dotted here and there, and the number 042 was printed on the armour’s chest, right next to a numeral I. Though he wore a helmet and he held a weapon, his stance betrayed impatience.

“Sir,” he said, his voice tinted by his helmet, “I’m sure we needed to be back by now.”

“I was asked to provide an assessment and an assessment I will provide,” the tweed-wearing Man said, slightly snappishly. “I would appreciate it, Mr Everett -”

“Sir Everett.”

“- if you would not interrupt!” the man finished, as though Everett hadn't interrupted. “This is delicate business. It's bad enough with those bloody Griffons and what have you wandering around, let alone your constant worrying.”

“Mr Steed, sir,” Everett said, “the Council’s request for an… assessment… is a secondary requirement to our duties at the meeting.”

“Holloway and Lachlan can give them whatever blather they require about magic,” Steed said dismissively. “I'm not given to having time for such nonsense. I didn't cross two universes to talk with Royals. I came to learn.”

As he spoke, he clenched his pipe between his teeth and opened his tome, flicking to a page somewhere in the middle. Muttering something, he closed his eyes and the book and seemed to be concentrating…

When suddenly, Steed found himself colliding with another, both their respective tomes sent crashing to the ground.

“Oh, sorry about that - didn’t see where I was going,” an eccentric voice apologized as a blue aura covered both books and brought them above the ground.

Steed looked to see an equine standing there; his coat was blue, his mane and tail were a silver blonde like color, perhaps platinum. He had a blue vest and dress shirt on while his horn glowed - a pen suspended in a levitation.

The stallion, Steed noticed, had a twinkle in his eyes and an eccentric look on his face.

“It’s a bit of a… well, it’s actually quite a challenge to do with so many unique entities all around us!” he exclaimed out of cheer, possibly over excited about something. “All these different species together, their tools and arts with them… two other worlds even I…” He seemed to start cooling down, rather satisfied. “It’s like a wonderful dream.”

Steed frowned slightly. “It would be a more wonderful dream, no doubt, were life, limb and civilisation not at stake in both other worlds. Still, I can see you're a scholar, so allow me to introduce myself.” He bowed slightly. “Horatio Albert Steed, Watcher’s Council of Great Britain. Assigned to Magical Research and Implementation Task Group, British Defence Force. The armoured gentleman here is Sir Alexander Everett, Iron Clad Zero Forty Two. A pleasure to make your acquaintance, Mr…?”

The stallion just stared off into space, still caught up in his moment before blinking and registering them both.

“O-oh! Sorry… got caught up and… wait,” he paused glancing at them, before his eyes widened in realization. “Are you two from that other Earth?”

Steed smiled tightly. “We are indeed, sir. We came with some of the research team to take advantage of the rather terrific time differential that supposedly exists. Not,” he added, “that I put too much faith in time travel. I've always found Doctor Hooves unreliable as an individual, prone to… running off half cocked, shall we say. I have no doubt his counterpart is similarly… flighty.”

The stallion, had cracked open his book and was writing in it with his pen - apparently he was absorbed with every detail Steed had just said.

“So, there isn’t a time difference in your world either?” he asked, gazing up from his book.

Steed sighed. “I would have to check. Doctor Hooves has yet to say one way or another, and I was running some tests before you… ran into us, shall we say.”

“Well I said I was sorry,” the stallion huffed, “we were both quite absorbed in our research after all.”

“He's got you there, sir,” Everett muttered. Steed sighed.

“Well then,” the old Watcher said. “Perhaps as a fellow scholar yourself, you will be able to help me.”

“Hmm… I may, but first I must ask you a question that I believe is parable about your world in relation to the first Earth,” he stated, lowering his book and bringing his pen up.

Steed preened slightly. “I pride myself on being knowledgeable about many subjects, sir. What may I help you with?”

The stallion, looked both ways, before craning his head forward.

“Does your world have these self-inkwelling, featherless quills like the first world does?” he asked, his tone deadly serious.

Everett burst out laughing, the sight of a fully-armoured Iron Clad literally bent double somewhat incongruous. Steed, meanwhile, blinked in surprise at the question.

“Do you mean… a pen?” he asked dryly.

The stallion beamed in response while his eyes twinkled, probably ecstatic.

“Yes! Yes indeed, that is exactly what I meant,” he replied, openly, bringing the pen up. “Ever since I’ve gotten this device… it’s been a revolution; it’s self sustaining and doesn’t need an inkwell for it, whoever made this is a genius of the highest order!”

Steed sighed. “You know it will likely run out eventually? Pens only hold so much ink.”

The stallion’s face fell at that. “Oh…”

“Tell you what,” Steed said, rummaging in his pocket. A moment later, he pulled out an ornately decorated fountain pen. “This was a present from an uncle I never rated highly. Thing has a self-sustaining ‘refill’ spell attached. It also smells of his old tobacco, but to be honest it was the sort of smell you only got sick of if you always smelled it on his furniture, so you should be fine.”

The stallion’s eyes widened in amazement as the fountain pen was covered in the same magical aura and brought before him; he examined it thoroughly.

“Amazing…” he whispered, absorbed completely by it before looking back to Steed with a small smile. “It’s good to see that your world has the same virtues that the first Earth and Equestria have. I thank you for your generous gift.”

The stallion gave a slight bow.

“Yes, well, that is certainly debatable,” Steed said. “And you're welcome. It’s good to meet someone so engrossed in studious activity. Not like that Constantine fellow everyone raves about - such a cretin.”

The stallion tilted his head slightly in response. “I’m afraid I don’t know who you’re talking about.”

“No, I suppose you wouldn't,” Steed sighed. “Now then, where was I before our chat - oh yes…”

He opened his tome, and, giving a slight groan as his limbs bent, he sat on the grass. He motioned for the stallion to come closer.

“What do you make of these?” he asked, pointing at the page.

The stallion narrowed his eyes slightly at the page, taking it in.

“I do believe those are runic symbols for support or binding while the diagrams are for a sort of magical channeling,” he responded, before muttering, “what exactly though…”

“That's quite correct!” Steed grinned. “And so, Mr - I’m sorry, I didn't catch your name…”

The stallion kept his gaze at the page before blinking and looking back to Steed.

“What? Oh, sorry again got caught up in that page of yours,” he apologized once more before straightening himself out. “My name is Spell Nexus, Headmaster of Celestia’s School for Gifted Unicorns and Archmage to the Diarchy. I have been tasked with researching Discord’s portal spell for more convenient means…” He then trailed off, before grinning slightly. “...but I have been a tad busy mingling with Equestria’s guests and all.”

“Yes, I can imagine,” Steed said. “Quite a hullabaloo.”

“Oh ho ho! You don’t know the half of it!” Spell Nexus declared, his eyes twinkling as his book flew open, showing various pages full of notes. “Why, just this morning I’ve met with the Zebra and the Changelings! Both their magic and unique cultural charms have endless hours to them to learn and study… though I must wonder if the Zebra must always rhyme.”

“Indeed? I’m certain Scribe Valtane will have his hands full,” Steed noted with a nod. “In any case, Mister - excuse me, Headmaster - Nexus - the runes and diagrams here are a complex set, with many applications, chief of which was the creation of the Iron Clad program and Paladin armour.”

He motioned at Everett, who waved cheerfully, apparently happy to remain silent for now.

Spell Nexus tapped a hoof below his barrel before walking up to Everett and taking him in, his eyes looking over the man’s armor to all sorts of detail and to capture it all to memory.

“Is he surgically bonded to this suit?” Spell Nexus asked, frowning.

“No,” Steed said, frowning slightly, “although surgical and magical enhancements were necessary to make sure the suits were completely safe. A side effect of poor materials and limited resources for the design - the Paladin IV design will, supposedly, be safe for standard human usage, now that we can guarantee enough material for it.” He paused. “As you can see, though, there are runes etched into the armour at intervals along the arms and chestplate. They simultaneously allow for the Clad within to channel his or her magical potential, as well as allowing for the suit to be powered by the magic in question.”

“That explains a lot, humans can’t normally use their magic unless they have some external way to do so,” Spell Nexus stated, his book flipping over to show details of a male and female anatomy. “I did some checks on some of the soldiers; they do have some varying potential… but no way for it to be used.”

Steed nodded, scrutinising the book. “Intriguing. It's altogether less difficult for humans from our world to utilise magic, though it does take willpower and practice.”

As a demonstration, Steed snapped his fingers, a small flame appearing, before relighting his pipe. He took a couple of puffs and then blew out the flame with a huff.

Spell Nexus watched with rapt attention, his book’s pages rapidly moving so that he could write more details down.

“Interesting… very interesting…” he muttered, while his eyes were on Steed. “And, in your world, all that’s left is… an Island?”

“All that's left that we are aware of, yes,” Steed said. “There were rumours of places… but sadly we’ve no way to confirm those rumours.” He smiled. “Now, Headmaster Nexus, to return to the subject of my task, if I may. I have come here to test this world’s energy.”

Spell Nexus snorted, rolling his eyes. “I think you’ll find plenty to test Steed; magic is as natural in Equestria as flight is for a Pegasi.”

“Indeed,” Steed nodded, “but to siphon a sample-sized amount and contain it requires careful concentration. A theory has been presented to the Council that I have been tasked with proving or disproving. Tell me - have you had the pleasure of meeting any of my Unicorn colleagues yet?”

Spell Nexus shook his head, “I’m afraid not - you’re the only ones from the second Earth that I’ve met so far personally.”

“Ah, I see,” Steed nodded. “Well, they've all been reporting that, when they try to use magic, it causes mild headaches and their usual effectiveness is mildly reduced. We at the Archives have come to suspect that there is a different kind of magical energy at play. To wit, our Unicorns are used to working from Petrol, and this world is supplying Diesel.”

“A sound theory,” Spell Nexus replied. “It would stand to reason that each Equus would have their own key form of magic that possesses differences and alternative laws to them despite similar enough at core.”

“And since there are much greater variances between the Equus my colleagues come from and this one than the Equus of this ‘Queen Celestia’, the side effects of the altered variance are more pronounced,” Steed added. “Hence why these effects have not been seen in Unicorns serving with the PHL. We’ve taken to labelling the two as ‘thauma’ for your world’s and ‘magia’ for ours - since these labels are common enough usage in our respective fields it seemed logical. My task is to see if I can't find some way for our ponies to better process thauma, and that requires a core sample.”

Spell Nexus frowned. “How come your world gets the name that is closer to magic than ours?”

“Simple pragmatism, really,” Steed said. “The PHL’s Doctor Whooves seems to have made the usage of ‘thauma’ quite popular, and we can hardly tell them to call it something else now. Meanwhile, the Council has used ‘magia’ for several centuries.”

Spell Nexus sighed. “Very well, very well. Call it what you will…” He trailed off, his mind clearly at work and in thought, “but are you sure your colleagues are just suffering from the illnesses you described earlier?”

Steed nodded. “All signs point to a magical incompatibility. It is the only explanation that fits the evidence - unless they're all spontaneously about to explode from over-saturation of their cells, which would be messy, not to say inconvenient.”

“Indeed, and would take forever to clean up.” Spell Nexus agreed, “but I think - and this hypothetically speaking - your colleagues are not used to this world’s magic and would require a form of aid in order to be better accustomed.”

Steed nodded again. “Such was our thinking. I had considered runic translation - runes that would be marked on the ponies and effectively turn ‘thauma’ into ‘magia’ - and vice versa for PHL ponies engaging in actions on our Earth.”

“Perhaps… perhaps something less permanent and easier to manufacture - a ring of some sort that can be attached to their horn.”

“Oh, our runes aren't as difficult to activate as the one you're familiar with,” Steed said. “Observe.”

He pulled out a small pin and held up his pipe. Grimacing at the fact that he was marking a nice object, he etched a rune into the wood.

“And… repel,” Steed whispered at the rune. It glowed for a moment, and then was back to normal. Steed held the small pipe up. “This pipe is now imbued with a spell of fire-resistance. Actually quite handy for a wood pipe - stops it being a fire hazard.” He clucked his tongue. “Wonder why it never occurred before.”

“Interesting, but I still think it would be better to edge in your runes into a physical sort of armor or equipment rather than on the pony itself,” Spell Nexus stated

“He has a point, sir,” Everett said. He pointed to himself. “Paladin’s all in the steel. I'd hate to sit under a needle for an hour.”

“You sat under the knife for seven,” Steed pointed out with a frown.

“Yeah,” Everett said, “but I was unconscious.”

Steed shrugged. “In any case, we still need that sample.” He took a small vial from one of his pockets: the vial had several runes identical to the ones in Steed’s book etched into the glass. “Enough to fill this should do.”

“I might be able to give you your sample.” Spell Nexus offered, “all you need is just a sample of our magic yes?”

“A core sample would be a little purer,” Steed said, but then he frowned thoughtfully. “That being said, any sample will do, provided you don't direct it in any way. No particular spell, just a general aura.”

“Right then, give me a moment,” Spell Nexus concentrated as he directed his magic into the vial.

After a long moment, the vial was full of a glowing blue energy of some type, and Steed fitted a stopper into the vial with a grin.

“Excellent,” he said. “I think that will do the trick nicely.” He placed the vial back in his pocket, and stood up as quickly as he could. “I believe I should head to speak with my colleagues - they’ll be at a meeting with Princess Celestia and Major Bauer if I’m not mistaken.”

“Very well, but before you go… I have two things to ask of you, if you would, Steed.” Spell Nexus said, a sudden air of authority present in his voice.

“Oh?” the Watcher asked. “What might those be?”

“The first is… well…” Spell Nexus frowned slightly, as he seemed to mull over what he was about to say. “Have you any news of my counterpart in your world?”

Steed frowned. “‘Spell Nexus…’ - Everett?”

“Never heard of a ‘Spell Nexus’ in me life, sir,” Everett said with a shrug. “If there's one of him there, he might be under a different name though. Or he might be dead.”

Steed turned back to Spell Nexus with frown of sympathy. “I apologise, Headmaster Nexus. We have precious little intel about Equestria to go on.”

The stallion sighed, shaking his head in dismay, “I had hoped that at least my counterpart would be present in your world; nopony knows where he is in the first Earth’s Equestria nor do they know of him.” He looked to Steed. “It makes me worried considering how both their world and your world’s Celestia have gone so wrong… and he would probably be the first obstacle in their ways - it’s almost like hearing about your own death way before it’s actually happened to be honest.”

“I can see why it would be disconcerting,” Steed said. “What, may I ask, is your second request?”

The Headmaster looked both ways, eyeing Everett for a moment before beckoning Steed to come closer. The other man did so, frowning.

“Would you mind stop being so formal and just call me Nexus?” he requested with a straight face. “You’re not one of my students or faculty members; it’s rather bizarre to be address that when I’m off duty to be entirely honest.”

Steed raised an eyebrow. “My apologies… Nexus. I am, I’m afraid, considered rather old fashioned by some of my younger colleagues. I believe formality to be a way of being polite - I meant no offence.”

“There is none, but we’re not at a dinner party with the elites - it’s just me, you and Everett at a park that the Spirit of Chaos created from nothing,” Spell Nexus said in a relaxed tone. “It’s not that much of an issue.”

“I see. Yes, quite,” Steed said, nodding. “In any case - I should head to that meeting. It might be wise for you to come too, if you're learned in such matters.”

“I’m afraid I’ll have to decline for now, other things are going on that require my attention at the moment,” he said, closing his book, “but, my door will be open should you have need of me.”

“I shall bear that in mind,” Steed said with a bow. “Everett, we should be going.”

As the two humans walked off, the Iron Clad could be seen shaking his head.

“Finally,” Everett muttered. “God give me the GG3 - anything's better than this.”

“You say something?” Steed asked.

“No sir,” Everett replied.

***

Ponyville, Year 2 Anno Harmonia - ‘Downtime’ Equestria.

It was as if the universe had just given up on whatever it was that made monsters or bizarre events happen near every saturday. As if had simply said something along the lines of ‘That’s it, you need a break.’

If so, nopony (or Zebra) was considering it a break.

Least of all, a single mint-green unicorn mare named Lyra Heartstrings, who was lying backwards on her bed, all legs outstretched, stacks of books everywhere, and so many shredded ribbons for her Hoofsmith typewriter that Bon-Bon (who was out selling candy) might assume at first glance that she had called down a small, localized blizzard. And then tell her to clean it up.

This was a brief leave only, a temporary break. Lyra had been trained with the Elements for a time, but in all of that time, no discussion was had about what her fate would actually be, what her role on the hypothetical battlefield would actually entail.

If they would even let her go.

Rolling around on the bed, pressing down on the typewriter keys with careful applications of TK, Lyra typed out:

Even if they don’t let me do anything else, I’d just like to tell Catseye to suck it-

...Okay. No. She ripped the typewriter ribbon out, letting it drop to the floor.

I don’t know. I don’t know what to say about this. I’ve talked to Professor Shriek and Laconic…

Ah, great memories of those two historians from Canterlot University. Laconic, a gray-blue unicorn with his thick moplike mane of slowly, glacially receding and silvering black fur, who had smoked the largest, sweetest-smelling cigars, who had given her some of the highest praise she’d ever recieved for her editing and research work in his book An Argument For Humanity and Against Catseye. He’d even personally edited some of her various publications a year after Catseye had published some poorly-researched refutation of all her stories. And Professor Shriek, an oddly earth-attuned thestral who always smelled vaguely of mushrooms, and would grow fungi in all shades of the rainbow. He’d been the most out-there, enough that Howie Waggoner might have said he overdid things.

Okay, he might have overdone things in bed. Nah, it was perfect there.

She remembered the criticism for the paper they’d made together that postulated humans to not have magic, and no thaumic presence at all. Not even the small Earth Pony magic that had could be used to grow crops, or how pegasi managed to carry carts behind themselves without being dragged downwards.

That had been a fun one, and the three of them - Lyra, Shriek, and Laconic had laughed it up in a wood-paneled bar, as always.

But this was miles above that.

In one of these alternative worlds, she was an ambassador, held in almost as high regard among the PHL as alicorns were in modern Equestria. In another world, the one that the godlike knight came from that she’d only heard second and third-hand rumors about (her conversation with Sir Eleanor notwithstanding), she was a hero.

‘...and this is bigger than anything we could have ever dreamed of,’ Lyra typed. ‘But… in both worlds, I’m a hero. It makes me wonder: Who am I? We shouldn’t worry about what our counterparts have done, or compare ourselves to them. We don’t have to make their mistakes, we’re not obligated or fated to become them. But… we’d be worse than any of them if we did nothing. Queen Celestia from the world Marcus came from, Solamina from yet another besieged world… we can’t sit by. If either one wins, we lose. And they won’t be pleased with us.

I know what I said about not worrying, or comparing ourselves to our counterparts. But beyond a doubt… we can all change things. I know that beyond a doubt, I can change things. Soon, the Elements of Harmony, Twilight Sparkle, Pinkie Pie, Applejack, Rarity, Fluttershy, and Rainbow Dash will be sent to Canterlot for Element Bearer duties.’

And then, on impulse, before she was really aware she’d written it out:

‘And I’m coming with them.’

Lyra tried to rip it out of the typewriter ribbon. Couldn’t. Didn’t want to, either.

Well, her parents had always told her that as bad as it was to lie, an empty promise was worse. She was going, then, wasn’t she?

With renewed vigor, she kept typing.

‘And I don’t know what’s out there. I know I’ll make the best book I could on it all, but that’s secondary. By Celestia, I’m going to do my part.’

***

Comments

[Mr cold ghost]

Gotta wonder what Lyra would say if she met the Lyra version from the uncorrupted version of the avatar verse? Probably at this point wouldn't be even surprised anymore.

[DDDDDDDDD23]

trixie will die right away. She still has all her arrogance.

[DDDDDDDDD23]

trixie used her magic to make up for her weak swordsmanship.
Trixie is just as her name suggests tricky. However once someone figures out her tricks she does not have the skills to survive.

[Starlight Nova]

Why did you cancel all of your Convergence stories?

[Jed R]

9984577
Convergence is based in the old Spectrumverse, and there are many varied reasons why continuing in the old Spectrumverse was no longer viable (or desirable).