Harmony 6: The Coming of Nightmares

by CopperTop

Chapter 3: Learning Curve

War. Twilight’s first day on the job as Equestria’s representative and the shepherd of the council that was supposed to ensure lasting world peace…and there was already the very real possibility that they could all get pulled into a war.

The representatives from among the minor powers were all but shouting at each other now. Half of them had treaties with the griffons. Many of those treaties were mutual defense pacts of one sort or another—some of which were more extortionate than others. The rest of those powers had nearly identical treaties with the dragons. Five minutes ago, all of those races had been ready to work together to maintain the peace. Now battle lines were being drawn.

Twilight looked to the zebra ambassador sitting to her right. Zecora, as the more experienced diplomat, was her initial preferred source for advice on how to defuse the situation. The unicorn looked almost pleadingly at the striped equine. “How do I stop this?” She asked under her breath, leaning in close to prevent her question from being overheard.

Zecora didn’t immediately respond to Twilight's question. Instead, she glanced over the purple mare’s head and appeared to exchange a look with the alicorn on the pony’s other side. Twilight didn’t turn in time to catch the expression on the taller mare’s face, and she hadn’t heard anything spoken aloud. However, it seemed that Zecora had received whatever guidance she’d been looking for.

The zebra shrugged. “The griffons and dragons always find something to fight over. Perhaps a war between them is something that cannot be stopped?” She shook her head and pushed back from the table, a clear sign that she was not going to involve herself in this matter.

Twilight bit back her frustration at being denied helpful advice from the zebra and instead turned to the alicorn on her left once more. “Ambassador Celestia—”

“Our policy is to not involve ourselves in the conflicts between other creatures,” the towering white mare intoned with a passive expression. “We will not take sides here.”

“Not even the side of peace?!” Twilight shot back in a low frustrated growl.

“I hear no talk of ‘peace’ in these chambers today,” Celestia observed with a frown at the smaller unicorn.

Twilight bit down on her resentment at the lack of assistance that she was receiving from the others. Why did they seem so content to let this catastrophe play out without trying to do anything to stop it?! Twilight knew why she wasn’t immediately jumping into action: this was her first day as a diplomat; she didn’t know what to do! She’d been studying up on this subject for only a hoofful of weeks; she was a complete novice!

Meanwhile, those who should have been deft hooves at this sort of thing were simply sitting back and allowing Ambassador Gilda to whip the room into a near frenzy. Twilight refused to believe—though Zecora and Celestia were certainly more knowledgeable about high-stakes political dealings than the unicorn—that inaction was the most beneficial move here. Somecreature needed to do something!

Unfortunately for them all, it looked like that ‘somecreature’ was going to have to be Twilight.

First things first, the purple mare thought to herself as she stood up from the table to her full height, gain control.

Twilight brought her hoof down on the table’s surface. “Order!” She cried out at the top of her lungs, throwing the full weight of Authority into her voice that years of being a commander of ponies on the battlefield had granted her. “There will be order in this chamber!”

Much to the unicorn’s surprise—though she didn’t let it show too plainly on her face—the room quieted down almost immediately, with every delegate turning towards the mare. A great many of them wore shocked expressions. A few even looked visibly cowed by Twilight’s fierce glare. “Ambassador Gilda still retains the floor; all others will be silent until they are called to speak!

“And you will retake your seats!” She added, fixing pointed looks on those representatives who had risen from their places to better direct their vitriol at potential future adversaries. It wasn’t long before every creature was seated and quiet once more.

Good. Now to try and solve the problem. But I can’t do that without first defining the variables—

“Ambassador Gilda,” Twilight said at a much lower volume, fighting to hide her exasperation with the griffon for the disruption that she’d provoked. Likely deliberately. “Would you care to elaborate? You claim that the dragons ‘invaded’ the Republic…?”

It proved impossible for the purple unicorn to completely mask her skepticism. While the animosity that existed between the griffons and the dragons was well known to everycreature on the planet, and a conflict between the two was hardly unbelievable…the fact remained that, hypothetically, a full military invasion of the Griffonian Republic by the dragons wasn’t feasible. The individual size of some dragons notwithstanding, they didn’t have the numbers to hold a significant amount of griffon territory. Launching the sort of attack that the ambassador had described would lead to an inevitable counter-offensive by the numerically—and still narrowly technologically—superior feathered felines.

Stereotypes aside, Twilight didn’t believe that the dragons were actually dumb enough to do something that stupid.

“I’m not ‘claiming’ anything!” Gilda spat back, glaring at the pony now just as fiercely as she’d been at Ambassador Ember. “It’s a fact!” To emphasize her point, the griffon held up a roll of parchment that was clutched in her talons. She all but hurled it at Twilight, who deftly caught the half-crumpled scroll in her telekinesis and unfurled it.

“A flight of dragons landed on the Republic island of Ragnar and took the population hostage!” The griffon representative declared, succinctly summarizing what Twilight was presently reading on the supplied scroll. “Republic citizens living on Republic territory! That’s an invasion; and the dragons did it!”

The murmurs began to rise up once more from the wider gallery. Twilight kept them from escalating any further with a fierce glare across the chamber and some firm taps of her hoof on the table. Her eyes then returned to the scroll and finished looking over its contents. It essentially mirrored what Gilda had just told them, albeit going into more detail. Apparently the invasion—and that did appear to be the best way to describe the events at present—had been witnessed and reported by a small cargo steamship that was leaving the island just as the dragons arrived.

Though it had been a griffon cargo vessel, Twilight noted. Not exactly an unbiased source…

…And Ambassador Ember still hasn’t said anything, the unicorn noted, glancing at the still seemingly disinterested dragon. Either because she knows it’s horseapples and can prove it, or…

Twilight lowered the scroll and nodded towards Gilda. “Thank you for bringing this matter to the attention of the Council, Ambassador.” The griffon hen remained standing, but gave the unicorn a nod before once more fixing her eagle-eyed glare on the sapphire-hued dragon sitting across from her.

The unicorn rethought the wisdom of seating the pair of feuding representatives in direct line of sight of each other before turning now to seek a response to the rather serious allegations that had been made. “Ambassador Ember? Would you like to offer an explanation? Did your government authorize an invasion of Republic territory?”

There was the possibility that Gilda was wholly correct and a flight of dragons had landed on the island; but not every dragon in the world answered to the Dragon Lord. There was the possibility—the hope—that these dragons were simply brigands or raiders acting on their own. If that proved to be the case, then the griffons would be hard-pressed to escalate the situation into an all-out war. Not with international support at least…

Ember finally glanced up from her self-administered manicure and favored the unicorn with a wry smirk. “Of course we didn’t invade the Republic’s island,” the dragon replied casually.

Twilight allowed herself a small sigh of relief. If the dragons were unaffiliated with the government of the Dragon Lands then—

“We were invited,” the scaled representative added. Her smile broadened now, spreading out into a far too toothy grin of obvious glee that she turned on Gilda.

“Bullshit—!”

Twilight held up a hoof. “Ambassador Gilda,” the unicorn warned. The griffon snapped her beak shut, her glare bouncing between the dragon and the pony, appearing to try and decide who she wanted to yell at more. Fortunately, she refrained from yelling at all and contented herself with fierce looks and bristled feathers as she waited for the pony representative to say her piece.

“Ambassador Ember, I’m sure you can understand how…” Twilight groped around for a more diplomatic way to phrase her question than what initially came to mind, eventually settling on, “implausible some creatures might find it that a griffon settlement invited an army of dragons to their island. While I wouldn’t want it to seem as though I’m calling you a ‘liar’, I don’t suppose you have some documentation supporting your claim?”

Ember tore her gaze from the griffon and looked at the purple pony now. Her expression showed fewer teeth, but also more annoyance. “‘Their’ island,” she echoed with a scoff. “Ragnar is less than ten leagues from the primary island of the Dragon Lands archipelago. It’s five hundred from the continent that the griffons live on.” The dragon’s garnet eyes flickered to the Republic ambassador. “I forget, ambassador; how long has Ragnar been ‘your’ island exactly?”

She didn’t wait for an actual answer, deciding that she had made her point. Twilight made a mental note to review historical maps of that region of the world so she knew when it might be more politique to use specific phrasing when it came to the touchier issues of who-owned-what-land-now. “But this isn’t about land,” the dragon ambassador lied, waving her claws dismissively before reaching beneath the table and picking out a sealed scroll. She tossed it to Twilight.

“This is a formal invitation, issued by the governor of Ragnar Island, to Dragon Lord Torch, asking for our assistance.”

“Like we’d ever need help from fricking handbags—”

The unicorn cut Gilda off with another pointed look and a raised hoof before rephrasing the griffon’s doubts. “Does the governor explain why he chose to ask you for help and not his own government?” Twilight asked evenly even as her magic broke the wax seal and unfurled the scroll that she’d been given. At a glance, it did indeed look like a formal request for intervention. All of the seals at the bottom looked genuine too; though Twilight acknowledged that she wasn’t exactly trained to be able to spot forged Griffonian Republic government seals on sight.

She didn’t even know if the ‘Gallus’ named at the bottom was actually the island’s governor.

Twilight passed the scroll over to Gilda to look over, deciding that the griffon would be a better authority on its authenticity. The griffon snatched the parchment from Twilight's magic and started to look it over while Ember answered the unicorn’s question.

“They were unsatisfied with the output of their gem mines,” Ember answered easily. “The island’s governor realized that, while he could have asked the Republic for help implementing more efficient mining methods, well, what with the distance and all, it was a whole lot easier for them to ask us instead.”

The dragoness’ expression hardened now as she turned from Twilight to fix her gaze on the griffon ambassador, who appeared to be growing ever more progressively furious the more she read the scroll in her talons. “We do have a lot of experience running Griffonian gem mines, after all.” There was no missing the acid that coated those words.

Ember snorted out a small puff of smoke before reapplying the smug smile to her snout. She relaxed her talons from where they’d ended up carving a deep furrow into the surface of the table and glanced back at Twilight. “So we sent advisors to supervise their mining efforts.”

“You sent so many advisors over that it looked like the island was being invaded?” Twilight asked skeptically.

“Well, we also saw that the island wasn’t particularly well-defended. You know, from pirates and stuff.” Ember said without missing a beat. “The griffons stripped away a lot of their garrisons and naval patrols in recent months. Something about a ‘special operation’ involving the kirin?” The dragon turned her head towards the relevant table in the gallery. Twilight noted that the pair of kirin delegates wore sour expressions as one of them nodded in confirmation of Ember's allegation on that matter.

The other kirin at the table was lightly smoldering as she glared at Gilda.

“Anti-piracy operations,” the griffon ambassador quipped reflexively while reading over the scroll. She did not look up to acknowledge the kirin's glare. Her beak did quiver briefly as she picked up the acrid scent of burning that was starting to fill the air. “The patrols and garrisons weren’t going to be away for long.”

“Of course,” Ember rolled her eyes and continued to answer Twilight’s question. “Anyway, we needed to make sure our advisors, the miners, and the shipments of gemstones were well-protected. So we sent along some of our soldiers to make sure everycreature was safe. That’s all.

She looked in the direction of the griffon ambassador once more. “What was the language that your government used back in the day, Gilda? Your armies weren’t ‘occupying’ us, they were just ‘keeping us safe’? ‘Supervising our development’?

“‘Civilizing’ us?”

Those last two words were audibly bathed in unabashed vitriol; enough to finally draw a look from Gilda, who appeared to have finished reading over the scroll. “This was coerced,” she stated, tossing away the scroll.

“And your proof of that is…?” Ember challenged, not appearing to be all that concerned with the griffon’s opinion on the matter. “Is the seal genuine, ambassador?” Gilda was forced to—eventually—issue a very reluctant nod. “And the signature? You recognize it?” Another reluctant nod, this time accompanied by repeated flexing of the griffon’s talons in obvious barely-contained fury.

“Is it genuine, ambassador?”

“What did you threaten to do to him?” Gilda demanded.

Sensing that the conversation could only go downhill from here, Twilight chose to interject herself back into it and retake control. “And all of the griffons that you’re…advising?” The unicorn had long since caught on to the reality, but maintained the fiction Ember was using for the sake of keeping the conversation flowing amicably. “They are there by choice? They are free to leave if they don’t want to be ‘advised’ by you?”

Ember didn’t acknowledge the question immediately, seeming to take delight in her griffon counterpart’s growing ire. After several long seconds though, the dragon finally sat back in her seat and shrugged. “Of course they can. In fact, every griffon who wanted to leave the island already did before we even got there. The rest are quite happy to learn everything we have to teach them about working in a mine.”

“And how long do you expect the ‘advising’ to last?” Twilight asked, the political lie tasting bitter on her tongue.

“Who can say? As you can see, some griffons take longer to learn their lessons than others,” Ember said with a flick of her claws in Gilda’s direction.

“But, I promise we’ll leave when the island’s governor asks us to,” she assured the Council, her toothy smile once more back in place on her muzzle. “He’s a pretty busy griffon though, learning about how to mine gems and all.

“Who can say when he’ll ever find the time to draft a formal request for us to depart? He’s very engrossed in the…instruction we’re providing—”

“You fucking BITCH—!”

Twilight’s magic lanced forth just in time to keep the griffon from fully vaulting over the table, holding the ambassador at bay with a glowing purple aura. Captain Applejack and one of her guards charged into the room at about the same time, having correctly deduced that the talks had deteriorated. They drew up short at a raised hoof from their commander even as the unicorn kept most of her focus on keeping Gilda from tackling the all-to-smug dragon across from her.

“Ambassador Gilda!”

“Let me go, you fucking hornhead!” the griffon snarled.

Twilight grit her teeth and threw her head to the side, her magic following with the movement and hurling the struggling ambassador back into her seat, where she landed with a squawk that was more frustration than pain. “Ambassador Gilda,” the unicorn mare repeated at a much raised volume, finally grasping the griffon’s full attention. “You will compose yourself while this situation is resolved, or—” Gilda opened her beak to issue a rebuke, but found herself silenced when a tendril of telekinetic magic lashed itself around her beak and sealed it shut, much to the feathered feline’s obvious consternation.

“OR,” Twilight repeated through clenched teeth, “you can calm down under the supervision of Captain Applejack outside for the rest of these proceedings.” She and the griffon kept their eyes locked on one another for several long seconds, the latter’s chest heaving with furious breaths.

In much calmer tones, Twilight added, “Trust me when I say: this will go better with you here. Provided you can keep your temper under control.

“Can you do that, Ambassador?” The purple pony—tentatively—released her magical grip on the griffon’s beak.

Her features remained etched with fury, and her lips never reduced themselves from a sneer, but the griffon at least spoke with a more civil-sounding tone. “...Fine,” she didn’t—quite—spit. Twilight let out a breath and nodded, fully releasing the griffon from her magical hold.

“Heh, and they wanted to ‘civilize’ us—” Ember began her verbal goading once more. However, Twilight was rather done with the dragon ambassador’s attitude by this point as well.

“I’m something of a polymath.”

The nonsequitur briefly stunned the dragoness into silence as she looked over at the unicorn in confusion. “...What?”

“Polymath,” Twilight repeated in a conversational tone as she took her attention from the griffon and regarded Ember. “It means: one who has wide-ranging knowledge, often among many differing fields of study. You see: I like to learn. About anything really. Physics, biology, chemistry, magic, I’m interested in it all.

“Before the war broke out back home, I was working on my fourth degree,” she went on. “While the fighting shifted my priorities and mostly derailed my formal academic pursuits, my love for learning has always remained.”

“...Good for you?” Ember ventured, clearly not sure what to make of the unicorn’s rambling. She looked to the nearby zebra and alicorn for insight, but both of the other ambassadors remained as silent now as they had been throughout the rest of the afternoon’s proceedings.

Twilight nodded. “Thank you. Anyway, I bring this up because it occurs to me that, while gemstones are used in a lot of magical applications, I’ve never before really looked into what went into procuring them,” she explained. “Gems were always just something that I picked up at the local store. Their detection, extraction, refinement…I’d never considered those aspects very closely before.

“But now I am, and I find myself fascinated,” Twilight had a smile on her own muzzle now as she leaned forward, peering eagerly at Ambassador Ember. “Do you think you could arrange a guided tour of the mines on Ragnar Island for me?”

“What?”

“Since you dragons are such experts—to the point where you’re teaching the griffons and all—I just know I’ll receive the best education on gem mining there. Right?”

Ember cleared her throat and shifted uncomfortably in her seat. “That’s not anything that I’d be able to arrange,” she quickly said by way of dismissal, and hurriedly added, “or any dragon in my government. It’s not our island—just ask Gilda,” the ambassador pointed out. “But I can pass on your request to the governor. I’m sure he’ll get around to looking it over eventually—”

“Oh, there’s no need to bother him if he’s busy,” Twilight assured the dragoness before turning to address the nearby griffon representative. “Ambassador Gilda, I’m sure that you could grant me a writ of passage to any province controlled by the Griffonian Republic, right? Even Ragnar Island?”

Much like Ember initially had, Gilda issued several confused blinks as she tried to figure out why the unicorn was so interested in a study trip rather than addressing the important issue at hand. Then Twilight saw realization dawn across the feathered face.

The griffon visibly relaxed now, and even allowed the corners of her beak to turn up into a smile that she turned towards the dragoness. “Yeah, I could do that,” she informed the unicorn. “I can have that on your desk by tonight if you’d like, Twilight Spackle.”

“Sparkle.”

“Whatever. Just tell me when you want to go.” Gilda’s smile became slightly broader as she spied the dragon’s mounting unease.

“I noticed that there was one of your sail-rigged paddle boats in the harbor,” the purple mare said, pointedly ignoring the ever growing concern on Ember’s features. “I bet it could get me there in just a few days—”

“You know what?” Ember finally spoke up. “I just remembered that a few more griffons did mention wanting to visit family on the mainland. They’re just waiting on a ride.”

“I see,” said Twilight. “Well, it just so happens that I know a mare who has a boat that I think is still docked in Harmony.” At least, Twilight was reasonably sure that Keelhaul hadn’t left yet. Even if she had, she suspected that Captain Rainbow Dash would be able to catch and redirect the Lickity before it made it too far. She was apparently fast enough. “I assume that I can send her along to pick up those griffons?”

Ember grimaced, but eventually nodded, “I can let our security forces know to expect you.”

“Good,” Twilight said with a nod. “And I’m sure the ship will arrive to find happy and healthy griffons.

“Won’t they?”

“Of course,” the dragoness tried not to say with a frown. She was marginally successful.

Gilda leaned forward, her eyes darting between the dragon and the unicorn. “...And if it turns out that they all want to leave?” she posed. “That means that you dragons won’t have anygriff to ‘teach’ anymore, right? So I guess you might as well go back home—”

“And leave those mines abandoned for who knows how long?” Ember feigned sounding aghast, recording some of her earlier haughty composure now that she was verbally sparring with a more familiar opponent. “Don’t you know how unsafe that would make those mines when everygriff gets back? Those mines have to be looked after and cared for. They need regular upkeep.

"For safety reasons.” The dragon smiled now. “Which us dragons will be happy to provide for as long as your griffons are away.

“In exchange for fair compensation, of course.”

Gilda’s eyes narrowed. “...'Compensation'?!” The griffon bristled with renewed frustration. “You actually expect us to pay you to occupy our island—?”

“I don’t think we’ll need direct payment, no,” Ember conceded, almost sounding conciliatory, “I’m sure we can satisfy ourselves with whatever we happen to pull out of those mines while we’re looking after them.” The toothy smile was back again. "We can bring in plenty of dragons to keep the mines looked after.

"Do you mind if we quarter ourselves in the houses of the island's residents? You know, since your griffons won’t be using them and all after they leave to...” Ember spared a moment to refresh herself on the lie she'd used earlier, "...visit their families."

The corners of Gilda’s beak pulled back in a sneer. “We’ll be back.”

“We’ll be waiting.”

“So we are all in agreement,” Twilight affirmed. It was not a question, and neither ambassador treated it as such. “And I suppose I can wait for that mine tour, Ambassador Ember. I did just arrive on Harmony, after all. I should wait a while before putting in for leave.

“On to the next item of business,” the unicorn announced, once more looking down at the docket. “The illustrious representative of Minos has the floor…”

Colonel Twilight Sparkle slumped back in her seat at the table after the last of the delegates left, exceedingly grateful that the meeting was finally over with. As much as the unicorn had been looking forward to an ‘easy’ inaugural session, that sentiment had begun to wear thin around hour three of the tariff negotiation. While she would never admit it aloud—under pain of death—the threat of global war at the beginning of the session had arguably been the ‘best’ part of the whole day.

Insofar as the unicorn hadn’t been forced to employ a spell to periodically deliver a shock to the frog of her hind hoof in order to keep herself awake during that part.

I never, in a thousand years, would have thought I’d miss those Battle Update Briefings, but here we are…

Movement by the door caused Twilight to wince. The audible groan was just barely withheld. Her telekinesis reflexively reached for her notebook and a pencil as the unicorn prepared to schedule another meeting with a representative who wanted ‘just a moment’ of the unicorn’s time. Thus far, each of the last dozen creatures had asked for ‘moments’ in four hour blocks.

The mare found herself idly wondering if there hadn’t perhaps been some egregious error made in the dictionaries available on Harmony that had seen the definition of ‘moment’ grossly mischaracterized…

When Twilight turned to see that it was her executive officer approaching, the purple unicorn visibly relaxed. Then she tensed up again a second later, though not nearly as much, as she considered that it was entirely possible the other mare was bringing her unpleasant news. “Hello, major. Please tell me that I don’t have any other meetings today.” Twilight opened her notebook and leafed through the pages with her magic to see if she could spot something that she might have overlooked earlier.

Rarity had the good humor to smile and started to shake her head…then stopped. The ivory mare considered. “Well…I suppose that depends on what you count as being a ‘meeting’...?” Twilight groaned and started to lightly tap her forehead against the surface of the table. “Ambassador Zecora told me to extend a dinner invitation to you,” the mare hastily added upon seeing her commander’s less-than-thrilled reaction. “If you’re interested, ma’am.

“She was careful to make it clear that it is a strictly informal invitation; and that if you’re too worn out from the day’s—”

The other unicorn’s assurances were interrupted by the audible rumble of Twilight’s stomach. The reaction had been entirely involuntary, and had been triggered by the mention of the possibility of a meal in the purple pony’s immediate future. Where balanced meals were concerned, this day had not been a kind one for the colonel. A day-old—though still pleasantly moist—muffin for breakfast and a pair of cupcakes for a ‘working lunch’ before the Council meeting felt as though they had only barely staved off outright starvation. It had been well in excess of twenty-four hours since the unicorn had eaten anything approaching a ‘proper meal’, and the effects on her mental fortitude were starting to show.

“...So, that’s a soft ‘yes’ on the dinner invite?” Rarity deduced, her muzzle betraying hints of a smile at the corner of her lips.

Twilight flushed slightly, mentally rebuking her stomach’s impropriety before nodding at her XO. “Let the ambassador know that I’ll be there. When did she say it was?”

“She said that if you wanted to attend, she would appreciate you being there in about a half an hour or so.”

That meant that Twilight had thirty minutes to get back to her quarters, take a quick shower, change into something more appropriate for dinner with a high-ranking government official, and then make her way to said official’s quarters, which were sequestered in an adjoining tower. It wasn’t an impossible timetable, but it didn’t leave Twilight with a lot of wiggle room either. The purple unicorn closed her notebook and stuffed it, and everything else still on the table, into her saddlebag before getting up from the table and heading for the exit.

“Major, please let the ambassador know I’ll be there in half an hour.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Twilight hurried back to her quarters at a brisk trot. The moment the door was closed behind her, her magic went to work flinging away her saddlebag and discarding her uniform—as well as snagging a molasses cookie from the basket to tide her over—as she made her way to the bathroom for a quick shower. She lingered just long enough to let the heated water wash away some of the tension that she’d acquired in her withers during the Council session before hopping back out and drying off.

Picking out an outfit took up most of the time she had. Rarity may have described the dinner as being ‘informal’—and Twilight didn’t doubt for a moment that the other unicorn had conveyed the exact wording of the ambassador’s invitation accurately—but the little purple mare was at least experienced enough with politics and government to know that some words didn’t carry their more colloquial definitions over into certain settings. This dinner constituted the senior Equestrian representative on Harmony sitting down to meet privately with the senior Zebrican government representative.

This meeting was no more ‘informal’ than a luncheon with a news reporter was ‘off the record’. Maybe Twilight didn’t need to show up wearing her finest dress uniform, but she still needed to look properly presentable.

Twilight eventually settled on a yellow sundress with some pale accents along the hem and a conservative pink ribbon on her breast. Nothing too elaborate or fancy, but enough to show that the unicorn was taking the invitation seriously. After a brief minute spent in front of the mirror making sure the dress was laying right, and practicing one of the Zebrican greetings that she knew, Twilight finally turned to depart from her apartment.

She delayed her departure just long enough to snag a pecan pie from her—finally noticeably—dwindling pile of sweets, then slipped out the door.

Finding Ambassador Zecora’s apartment wasn’t particularly difficult. Several smaller towers abutted the main lighthouse spire on the island, and each played host to several embassies of the various nations of the world which had deigned to establish one on Harmony. The zebras utilized three floors of the north-facing tower, and it was clearly evident which floors those were, as they were the ones which were guarded by zebra soldiers dressed in their moss green and black wool coats. Twilight couldn’t help but eye their rifles as the guards, who had presumably been advised of the unicorn’s arrival, gave her directions to the ambassador’s apartment.

She’d too often seen those polished steel barrels pointed in her direction not to still be wary of them, even after all of this time.

Ambassador Zecora’s quarters were on the uppermost of the three floors that the zebras occupied, with the first floor being much more modest quarters for the mission’s staff—to include billeting for their soldiers—and the middle floor being utilized as office space to run the consulate’s business on Harmony. The quarters were also substantially nicer than what Twilight had been allotted, the mare noticed when her knock was answered.

“Salamu, Mh—ELL-oh!”

Twilight’s attempt at an initial greeting died amidst her shock when she realized that it had not been the ambassador herself who had opened the door, but a zebra stallion she didn’t recognize. Given that the unicorn was staring at the buttoned maroon vest over his sternum, and found herself having to crane her neck upwards considerably before she finally found a jaw—framed by a deep black beard—the colonel determined that he was a rather large stallion at that. He was also not quite glaring at her.

“O-oh. I-I’m sorry,” Twilight stammered, taking a step back from the door. “I guess I was given the wrong directions? I’m looking for Ambassador Zecora?”

“Let her in, Grevy,” a familiar mare’s voice said from somewhere beyond the striped stallion’s broad form. He briefly glanced back over his shoulder, as though seeking some additional confirmation, before bowing his head in Twilight’s direction and stepping aside.

“Hm.”

Zecora now came into view. Twilight reformed the warm smile she’d intended to greet the ambassador with…and found herself having to struggle a little to retain it in place when she noticed that the striped mare was only wearing her jewelry. The stallion was more formally dressed than the ambassador was, because he was at least wearing a vest!

Twilight found herself reconsidering how Equestrian and Zebrican official’s differed in their definitions of the word ‘informal’. The unicorn preferred the zebra’s.

“Good evening, Colonel Sparkle. Thank you for accepting my invitation; please come in.”

“Salamu, Mheshimiwa Balozi,” Twilight tried once more. At least she managed not to stumble over the unfamiliar words.

Zecora’s smile grew a little wider and she inclined her head slightly. “And a fine…enchanté? To you too, colonel.”

Twilight paused mid-step as she was about to enter, tilting her head to the side as she puzzled over the zebra mare’s use of Prench. Then she smiled too. “Right. You’ve spent a lot of time with Major Rarity since arriving on the island.” She’d known a few ponies back in Equestria who spoke in the same ‘High Canterlot’ accent as the ivory unicorn mare, along with their propensity to throw Prench words into conversation at seemingly random times.

The zebra cocked a brow, prompting Twilight to clear her hoof and dismiss the striped mare’s concerns with a hoof. “Nevermind. Thank you for inviting me to dinner. I brought a pie!” The unicorn presented the baked dessert—which was presently steaming thanks to the judicious application of a basic heating spell—to her host.

Zecora’s smile grew a little at the sight of the pie and she gave a soft chuckle before pointing a hoof in the direction of the suite’s kitchenette. “Much appreciated, colonel. You may place it over on the counter. Then please join me in the parlor for a pre-meal beverage.”

Twilight nodded and stepped gingerly in the direction of the indicated counter. The large zebra stallion, Grevy, was in the kitchenette putting some of the final touches on the evening’s meal. He nodded politely at the smaller mare but otherwise said nothing. The unicorn set the pecan pie held in her levitation field down on the counter…right next to another pecan pie that was already cooling there.

Any inclination towards feeling embarrassed at somehow managing to bring a redundant offering to the dinner vanished when Twilight noticed that the two desserts looked identical to each other…right down to the ‘smiley face’ design the top layer of pecans had been arranged in.

“Um…I don’t suppose that you got this pie from a pink earth—”

“Green or black, colonel?” Zecora asked from the other room, cutting off the unicorn’s question.

“What?”

“Your tea preference, colonel,” came the clarification at the same moment that the zebra became visible in the doorway, holding aloft two teabags in her upturned hoof. “Do you prefer green or black? It has been my observation that many ponies prefer black tea; but I would not want to presume that you share your kinfolk’s stereotypical lack of good taste.” Turquoise eyes danced with amusement.

Twilight blinked a few times before her own features settled into a smile of her own as she finally recognized the playful barb. “Coffee for me; if you have it.” Her smile preemptively broadened in anticipation of the expected reaction from her host.

She was not disappointed. Zecora feigned appalled shock. “Ah! I see that I have inadvertently invited a barbarian into my humble home!” Her gaze then shifted past Twilight. “Grevy? Coffee for our guest.”

“Hm.” The larger stallion dipped his head down behind the counter and returned to view a moment later with a glass cylinder held in his teeth.

Twilight recognized the device immediately. She cast Zecora a bewildered look. “You own a Prench Press?”

“Barbarism is contagious, it turns out. Come, colonel; let us sit and speak.”

The parlor felt fairly crowded, at least when Twilight thought back to most of her own past living accommodations. She’d never had an abundance of space in her assigned quarters prior to being assigned to Harmony, and what space she’d been given, she’d tended to leave largely untouched. The unicorn had always known that her assignments would be temporary, and so never saw much point in moving in the bulk of her possessions. Zecora obviously held a different philosophy: if you were going to be living far from home for a while, then bring as much of home with you as you could.

Absolutely none of the apartment’s stone walls were visible. Where there wasn’t a hanging tapestry or blanket, there was an ornately carved wooden mask. Where there hadn’t been room to hang a mask, there was a fern or small tree. Where a tree hadn’t been deemed suitable, a statue stood in its place. Twilight stood in the doorway for almost a solid minute taking it all in, wondering for just a moment if she hadn’t stepped through a portal which had taken her all the way to the Zebrican continent.

She finally managed to tear her attention away from the décor and return it to her host, who had already made herself comfortable on a low-lying unpadded variety of chaise lounge, and was motioning to another across from her for Twilight to do the same. The unicorn did so, matching the zebra’s posture as best she could to attain some level of comfort on the hard surface.

“I am led to understand that you have enjoyed an…exciting introduction to the island, Colonel Sparkle,” Zecora began, flashing a knowing smile her way.

“It wasn’t how I expected things to go,” was what the unicorn would admit. ‘Informal’ dinner or not—and new to being a diplomat or not—Twilight was well acquainted with the concept of ‘operational security’ and that, even when dealing with an ally, the best practice was not to reveal anything which could be leveraged against herself or Equestria. If the unicorn sounded like she was unprepared or incapable of doing her job on Harmony to the zebra, that had the potential of coming back to bite her down the road. “But I’m used to adapting to challenging situations.”

The ambassador issued an acknowledging nod. “Your reputation certainly precedes you in that regard, colonel. Especially among my kind.” Twilight very carefully did not externally react to the zebra’s words, though she did feel herself tense up. She hoped it wasn’t noticeable.

Zecora held up a hoof. Her next words suggested to the unicorn that at least some of her apprehension had bled through her attempt to screen it. “Be at ease, colonel; I did not invite you here to discuss the past. I merely wished to point out that you have a reputation for being a pony who is capable of solving challenging problems.”

“That’s probably the nicest way I’ve ever heard a zebra phrase it.” Twilight almost immediately winced at how the dry comment had sounded when it escaped her lips.

Her host smiled and nodded in response. “Time heals; but it leaves scars. Those too may fade eventually, but it can take longer for some than others.

“But I am offering my words as praise: Harmony Fortress’ purpose is an ambitious one—unprecedented in recorded history. No doubt the individual who helms it will encounter many harrowing challenges during her time here. You have previously demonstrated that you are capable of achieving success where all others only fail.

“To that end, I believe that Harmony has been placed in good hooves. A belief that I saw vindicated this afternoon in the Council Chamber.”

Twilight only barely managed to avert outright scowling at the striped mare this time, managing to divert her expression into just a frown. “The meeting started off a little more…spirited than I might have hoped,” the unicorn conceded. “Everything managed to work out probably as well as could have been expected, given the situation.” The unicorn wasn’t sure how much she could get away with saying directly without risking offending the ambassador, so she chose to end her comments there.

“Very likely,” Zecora agreed. “The dragons would have been unlikely to leave Ragnar Island and return it to the griffons. Without finding a way to get them to release their griffon hostages, the Republic would have been left with little option but to send a military response to the island, possibly in the company of one or more of their allies.

“The situation could quite easily have eventually spiraled into a rather widespread war.

“Your intervention was timely, firm, effective, and—most importantly: peaceful.”

“So glad that you approve, ambassador,” the little purple mare said through her now much more strained features.

The zebra’s words sounded genuine enough to be interpreted as honest praise; and likely could have been taken as such at face value for anypony who didn’t have any other further context to go on. However, Twilight had been in the Council Chamber, and so she did have additional context. Specifically: she remembered that she’d asked the striped mare for help, and she had declined to get involved in the situation at all; leaving Twilight to stumble about and hope to find a solution on her own.

With all of that in mind, it was very hard for the unicorn not to find Zecora’s praise a little patronizing.

Which meant it was also hard to hold back the barbs that were trying to force their way past her tongue. “I just felt like somecreature needed to do something about it.

“Maybe it’s the officer in me, but I’m not afraid to step up when nocreature else will.”

Zecora appeared entirely unfazed by the poorly-veiled jab. Twilight knew—intellectually—that she should have been grateful that the zebra hadn’t taken offense and appeared willing to let the matter go. However, the ambassador’s lack of acknowledgement of how she’d rebuffed the unicorn’s request for assistance only made the pony more irritated.

“Actions speak louder than words.”

Twilight blinked in shock at the zebra’s apparent non sequitur.

“I have come to understand that this sentiment is not one that is exclusively held by zebras,” Zecora continued. “Our previous experiences with Equestrian ‘actions’ have left my government wanting in the past.” The striped mare’s expression was not a warm one this time, though the coolness which invaded her turquoise eyes lingered only briefly before they became placid once more.

“Equestria has made many bold claims regarding Harmony Fortress and its purpose—or, rather: the purpose that they officially allege.” She shared a knowing look with the purple unicorn.

Twilight frowned now. “What do you mean? Harmony Fortress is—”

“A fortress,” Zecora cut in with the firm tone of one who was making a point that they had not finished, and were not looking for comment until they were finished. The unicorn mare closed her mouth, but resolved to make the appropriate corrections on the ambassador’s interpretations once she was done.

“Actions may be louder, but words still possess a volume all their own which creatures can hear,” Zecora continued. “And government’s are not known to be careless with their words—not when those words can shape the course of their nation on the world stage.

“Statements on foreign policy, their ambitions, the names bestowed on their architectural achievements…” A knowing look was shared with the purple mare before she quickly moved on to her point. “Other nations take note of a government’s words and actions…and they form opinions accordingly.

“Equestria leaped into view on the global stage through a brutal war—one of the largest seen in centuries. Then, after that war’s conclusion, they managed to emerge as one of the formally recognized major powers in the world. Achieving a status in less than a decade that most races have not managed to in centuries.”

The small purple unicorn barely suppressed a grimace at the ambassador’s words. The way that the striped mare had phrased things made it sound quite implausible, to be fair. There was more nuance to it though.

True, one would have logically expected that a nation and race who had been pushed to the brink of extinction would have a difficult time bouncing back at all to any meaningful degree—ever. Going on to be held in as high regard as the griffons? And even the powerful race which had come so very close to destroying them?

To put it bluntly: the notion was absurd.

However, the war had had a few unintended consequences for ponies. One of those consequences was to turn their race into something of a diaspora in the later years of the war. As it became more and more evident that Equestria was destined to lose, and as town after town was being raised to the ground, ponies—those who could, anyway—fled. They flung themselves to the far corners of the globe in an effort to escape the Zebrican threat, forming enclaves within nearly every other nation in the world who would take in refugees.

Then…the war ended.

The zebras conceded the war and returned back to their homeland. When news reached those far-flung pony communities, most of them returned back to their homeland and, with them, broad the political and economic inroads that were essential to establishing trade networks.

Equestria, in that time of rebuilding, needed to import a lot of material and resources. It turned out that they also had much to offer in return that they had not expected: their magic. Unicorn spellcraft, pegasus weather control, earth pony agrarianism—ponies had long been ignorant of how scarce the magic that they took for granted was in the wider world…

…And how valuable it was.

Equestria bartered their highly-valuable magic for material and, in doing so, inadvertently became a trading powerhouse whose economic dominance had global reach. Equestria-owned ships—while technologically inferior to the others in their immediate peer group—were incredibly numerous and able to outperform other vessels in their class, thanks to the pegasi among their crews ensuring the ships always had favorable winds.

“What did Equestria do shortly after achieving their status?” Zecora went on. “They built a military fortress the size of the city thousands of miles from their homeland.

“A nation with a reputation for starting wars…building a waystation that would be capable of supporting future wars?” The striped mare raised a questioning brow at Twilight, though she did not wait for the unicorn to respond. “It made many of the other races understandably nervous.

“The Griffonian Republic made their introduction to the world in much the same way: setting out from their homeland and establishing ‘trading posts’ on the shores of other lands…right before ‘civilizing’ those lands.” The ambassador’s expression was appropriately sardonic to suit the audibly poor opinion she had of the griffon practice.

“Many in that room today believe that ponies seek to achieve the same sort of domination.” Now Zecora smiled at the other mare. “But, perhaps after seeing how Equestria’s representative sought to peacefully resolve a matter with a mere exchange of words…?

“We can hope that their expectations are appropriately tempered.”

Twilight gaped for several long seconds in stunned silence at the ambassador. Her aid entered the room, deposited two saucers of steaming coffee and left without a word or twitch from the unicorn. Her attention was so focused on her host that the unicorn spent a second wondering if their drinks had been teleported to them.

“...You were testing me?”

“I was giving the other representatives an opportunity to see your character on display,” Zecora corrected gently. She took up her saucer in her hooves and took a sip, letting out a contented sigh.

Twilight frowned, her own drink remaining untouched so far. “That was a pretty big risk you took,” she pointed out. “What if I’d stayed out of Gilda and Ember’s fight? You couldn’t have known I’d want to stop it—or that I could.

“You told me that you know of ‘my reputation’; I know perfectly well the ‘reputation’ I have with the zebras. For all you knew, I’d have jumped at the chance to get Equestria into another war!” Twilight snapped.

“On the contrary: I knew specifically that you would not.”

“How?! You don’t even know me!”

“I said that we had never been formally introduced,” Zecora offered another gentle correction before taking another sip of her coffee, “and we have not; but I do know you, Colonel Twilight Sparkle—your heart.”

Once more, Twilight was stunned into confused silence as she tried to make sense of the zebra mare’s contradictory words. Zecora smiled. “There were many in that room who have made the assumption that the Equestrian military officer sitting upon a council of peace and diplomacy will achieve nothing worthwhile here, because she is—what is the pony expression? Ah! Yes: that you are ‘out of your element’.”

The ambassador then chuckled to herself, finding her words far funnier than Twilight thought she should have, before she took another sip of her coffee and grinned at the unicorn now. “But I know better.

“Please, Colonel Sparkle, try the coffee. It is a blend that will pair well with dinner, I assure you…”

Author's Note:

As you can see, while I wasn't willing to write rhyming dialogue for Zecora for the whole story, I'm still perfectly willing to have her speak in riddles!

As always, a thumbs up and comment are always greatly appreciated

If you like the cover art and want to see more stories get them, I've set up a Cover Art Fund if you're interested and have any bits lying around!

Comments

[Lighttone GryphonStar]

As a massive fan of Babylon 5, I recognized the font alone. Bonus points with the epic narration in the description, I could hear the voice-over echoing in my head from reading it. Curious, will you be covering the movies too, or mostly messing with the events in the series only? Yeah, I noted The Gathering right away, but that movie is kind of a necessity, while the others lay some great foundation and attempt to make spinoff happen. Kind of the reason I asked, I know it will be a long time before we get to any possible spin-off, but even if you weren't planning to do them how much of those movies would you still include if at all?

[CopperTop]

11986086
It's hard not to hear Boxleitner or O'Hare whenever you see that text, isn't it? LOL!

I highly doubt that I'll cover any of the other movies. The Gathering was indeed because it's a huge tone-setter for the B5 series, and so I felt I had to reference it. Even these last two episodes mostly being the (official) pilot.

Stuff like Call to Arms, River of Souls, Legends of the Rangers...it'd be hard to find a way to fit those in and not distract too much from the core plotline.

Maybe I can work in a Thirdspace corollary in a later story? (I have three planned for this series). We'll see. It wouldn't be any time soon, in any case.

The rest of the book, and the sequels I have planned shouldn't (for the most part) so brazenly rip off episode plots; they'll just mirror some series/setting themes. There will be a few plot-points/events that line up with stuff from the show though.

I hope a fellow B5 fan appreciates where I'll be taken the story!

[Lighttone GryphonStar]

11986109
Just finished the giant chapter one. And yeah, it's great so far, the length of that is a bit of a slog, but my fault for trying to read it all in one sitting. Despite me, the pacing is great so far. I'm already tracking it and am curious how much this will feel like Babylon 5 with MLP characters or if you will blend plenty of stuff from both shows. Maybe have Changelings play the role of "Shadows allies" or incorporate Sombra's mind-control helmets in place of the "Keeper" spawns.

[CopperTop]

11986176
Heh, yeah, Chapter 1 has some girth to it. If you look at some of my earlier stuff, you'll see I'm actually doing really well to keep a chapter under 15k words!

There just didn't feel like there was a good place to break without disrupting the flow too much. I wanted to at least get the rest of the Mane 6 on page as soon as possible.

As far as the feel I'm going for, much like with the BattleTech story I did: I don't want this to be "Babylon 5 but with ponies". In that, Twilight =/= Sinclair/Sheridan. Twilight is Twilight, just having gone through the same sort of stuff that Sinclair and Sheridan did. I'll try to keep her actions 'in character' in that respect: she likes reading, she likes magic, she's not used to relying on others, etc, etc.

So, if you see that Applejack isn't acting a lot like Garibaldi? That's because she's Applejack.

Not spoilers: the changeling won't be appearing in this story; so don't get your hopes up on that front.

Is spoilers(?): Changelings will be main villain in the sequel though...

[TheLastWolfinEquestria]

Having Zecora speak without saying anything at all is great. Just like Dukat and Delen with that whole, "I'm not saying anything. I didn't say anything then, and I'm not saying anything now." You captured that perfectly so far with Zecora. You also managed to capture at least part of Kosh's, and the Vorlon in general, mind set of not getting involved with anyone below them and sitting on the sidelines just watching. If you can keep the riddles for Zecora and then make them even more apparent and confusing for Celestia, you'll have the right feel. Been waiting for this story to update, thanks for getting one more chapter up.

[CopperTop]

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I'm glad that you approve! I do need Zecora to be mysterious enough to frustrate Twilight, but not so obfuscating that she annoys the reader. I hope I'm walking that line alright.

Celestia will be getting some more screen time in a few chapters. Hopefully I can convey her role appropriately too.

For the time being I've been churning out the words fast enough to keep up with my planned update schedule; so there shouldn't be any interruptions on that front! Thanks for reading!