Pony Fortress 2: A Worthy Cause

Chapters

The Interview Files
Soul Sisters
Explosition
Tomorrow
The First Wave
Say Goodbye To Them Now
Gambit
A Fate Worse Than Chess
Alicoronation Part I
Dianegotiations
Alicoronation Part II
The Other Side

The Interview Files

Dear Diary:

Still can't believe the interviews are finally over. Partly because they were pretty much my whole life back then, and partly because the Administrator's been bugging me about rewriting everything.

I explained to him that everything's all in my Meet the Team folder which, I emphasized, was sitting in his desk drawer and could be read at any time. He then said it was way too long - over a hundred thousand words - and that he needed a very quick summary. So I told him, perhaps in a slightly clipped tone, that he'd already read everything and so there was really no need to go over it again. His response was that it wasn't for him, it was for anypony else who might want to read it in the future, if only to catch up on current events.

I subsequently commented that, since nopony could possibly be so uninformed as to be unaware of the interviews, the only thing that would ever touch the summary he wanted was the dust on the shelf on which it would be left to rot for all eternity.

This may have been a mistake.

He spent the next twenty minutes explaining to me why it should be done, why it had to be done, and why there definitely would be people reading it. I asked him what people were. He then corrected himself and said 'ponies'.

Something's up.

Anyway, now I'm stuck with the job of completing this summary which, by the Administrator's words, "must be extensive enough to educate even the most uninformed of hairless apes from another dimension" yet "short enough to ensure their attention doesn't drift elsewhere before they finish."

Tough. But I think I can do it. And now that I think about it, maybe there are some things I may have missed out in the original.

I'd best get to work now.

- Diana

The Interview Files

Table of Contents:

Personalities you need to know
Nations you need to know
The events so far
The Mercenaries

Chapter 1: Personalities you need to know

There aren't that many of them. But they are really important.

The Administrator

The Administrator is a draconequus who goes by the name of Discord. For the past thousand years, he has been overseeing a war between both RED and BLU Team, under the command of Celestia and Luna respectively. This war has stretched on due to the respawn points he has provided for both teams. There is much speculation as to what his motives are, but of course nopony's ever found out. Yet, at least.

Princess Celestia

Princess of the Equestrian Solar Empire and RED Team, Celestia has been fighting Luna for the past millennium in a bloody war that has left Equestria divided and generally worse off. She believes in the principle of benevolent dictatorship, where one well-intentioned and wise ruler makes all of the decisions for the nation. She therefore opposes Luna's system of a democratic republic and battles to ensure that Equestria gets the government that will be the most beneficial to the ponies.

Princess Luna

Similar to the above-mentioned Princess, only with opposite motivations. As the Princess of the New Lunar Republic and BLU Team, Luna believes that the ponies ought to decide how they are ruled. She sees her sister's actions as a threat to the free will of the citizens of Equestria and opposes it.

Chapter 2: Nations you need to know

(Note: Before you read this, my advice is that you first refer to the italicized portions of this, a narrated version of the standard history textbook in both Equestrian countries, without the propaganda.)

There are quite a few nations, if only because the Equestrian Civil War gave a wonderful opportunity for other groups to break away and form their own kingdoms.

The Equestrian Solar Empire

As stated above, it is ruled by Celestia. Occupying territories in the southern half of Equestria, it was formed in the aftermath of Luna's declaration of war. Although it has a standing military, it is rarely used now with the advent of the mercenaries. Also important, to the Administrator at least, is that three of the six Elemental Gemstones of Harmony reside deep within an Imperial base somewhere. He's generally made it known - to his trusted few - that he wants to get his hands on them.

The New Lunar Republic

After war was declared, Luna's Republic occupied the northern half of Equestria. Similar to the Empire, it has a formidable army which is also hardly ever used since the mercenaries are the only ones fighting now. The Republic is in possession of the remaining three Elements.

The Crystal Empire

Officially, it's now a part of the Republic, (refer to this file for necessary details) though this wasn't always so. For now, Princess Cadance and Prince Shining Armor are in charge of this realm, under the command of Luna.

The Zebra Empire

Gone. Destroyed. The land is still there, of course, but there aren't any traces of life in the general area and very few escaped the genocide that Master Mind wrought a thousand years ago. The water there, I'm given to believe, is still not safe for drinking.

The Griffon Republic

Inspired by Luna's drive for democracy, the griffons took advantage of the Civil War to break away from Equestria and found their own republic. It still exists today, though we haven't had many dealings with them.

The Dragons

By right, they aren't even a kingdom, but I have to file them somewhere. They're just mostly a loosely connected group of incredibly huge, powerful, fire-breathing beings. They usually live separate lives and only come together when they as a species - or their vast hoards of treasure - are threatened.

The Changelings

Very, very little is known about them. All we do know is that there are thousands upon thousands of them, they're literally starving for love, and are very close neighbours (by proximity) to Equestria. A bad combination.

Chapter 3: The Events so Far

Everything started a month ago, with the unstoppable sentry incident. (See here for further but admittedly unneeded details.) This has little bearing on the interviews themselves, but one significant event must be taken note of here.

As punishment for the BLU Pyro's refusal to obey orders (she decided not to go out and fight RED team as she had been instructed) the Administrator slapped both a hallucination and personality shift spell on her. This will be further elaborated upon in Chapter 4.

Thereafter, he sent me, Diana, as his interviewer to, well, interview every class of mercenary and record the results. This served a double purpose. One, he wanted to know their personalities thoroughly to allow for possible future manipulation. Two, he wanted to know which of them were capable of wielding the Elements of Harmony so he would know who posed the greatest threat to him.

The events during the interviews are under Chapter 4.

Chapter 4: The Mercenaries

The results of the interviews of the nine separate classes of mercenaries are recorded here in a relatively brief summary. Though both teams have identical mercenaries* - right down to their DNA - the Administrator insisted that I interview each side alternatingly, meaning that the first interview was with RED, then the second BLU, and so on and so forth.

*Administrator's note: Mirror Pool and memory-altering spells. That is all.

The Scout

Role: Reconnaissance, Light Assault

Name: Rainbow Dash

Age: 19

Gender: Female

Species: Pegasus

Team Interviewed: RED

Interview: Refer to this file for the full document

Summary: During this interview, and the battle during which it was conducted, Rainbow quickly demonstrated her inability to stay still for any length of time and her lack of sensitivity to others' feelings. On the plus side, her little antics allowed me to take note of the speed and agility her powerful wings afforded her, and the bullet-blocking ability of a radioactive cupcake. She was willing to risk arousing the ire of her Princess/employer - very dangerous, since that's where her paycheck comes from every month - to provide what she considers indispensable support to her team who, in her words, would 'be lost' without her. In light of this, she is eligible for the Element of Loyalty.

I then proceeded to drug her with her own cupcake and haul her back to the Administrator's central base, as per his orders.

The Soldier

Role: Heavy Assault (Explosives), Support (Damage boost, damage resistance, healing, depending on weapon)

Name: Spike

Age: 13

Gender: Male

Species: Dragon

Team Interviewed: BLU

Interview: Refer to this file for the full document

Summary: I found him in the middle of a battle. As it turns out, he's pretty determined to win this war, whether or not he actually thinks this intractable stalemate can be broken. A brief trip through a darkened BLU base (it was an electrical fault) taught me that no matter what dragons say, they can not, in fact, see in the dark. This was a fact most clearly proven when he dented his nose on the wall.

A few minutes later, he led me to the base backyard where he started lecturing a row of severed heads. From this discourse, I gathered that he has a less-than-adequate understanding of Sun Tzu, and that - as one might well expect from a dragon speaking to disembodied skulls - he may be slightly mentally unstable.

My recommendation to the Administrator was either psychiatry or the asylum. He explained that for a mercenary, Spike was fairly average.

The Demomare

Role: Defense/Medium Offense (Explosives)

Name: Zecora

Age: 23

Gender: Female

Species: Zebra

Team Interviewed: RED

Interview: Refer to this file for the full document

Summary: Having learnt a few things from the previous two interviews, I asked the Administrator if I could conduct the this interview in a less violent spot, so I wouldn't have to deal with dodging bullets and rockets to get the interview done. He agreed and sent me to the Everfree Forest.

It was not one of my best days. I will remember that manticore poison is not to be taken lightly in future.

Fortunately, I was rescued by the Demomare in question and nursed back to health in a matter of minutes. As I ought to have expected, anypony living in this forest for extended periods of time - or any length of time, I suppose - would ensure that antidotes for whatever dangers lurk in the shadows would be readily available.

We chatted amiably for a while. She seemed like a nice, friendly mare. Then she blew two intruders at her doorstep to high heaven.

I suppose it's to be expected, coming from a mercenary.

The Heavy

Role: Heavy Assault (Minigun), Tank

Name: Big Macintosh

Age: 21

Gender: Male

Species: Earth Pony

Team Interviewed: BLU

Interview: Refer to this file for the full document

Summary: He is a pony of a few words. These tend to be either 'eeyup' or 'eenope'. For strangers at least, the one topic of conversation he is willing to broach is his gun, which he's affectionately named Sasha. He also regards this weapon with an unhealthy obsession. Nonetheless, he demonstrated that when push comes to shove, it's all too lethal a weapon for his foes to deal with - especially at point blank.

The Engineer

Role: Defense (Defensive Structures)

Name: Applejack

Age: 20

Gender: Female

Species: Earth Pony

Team Interviewed: RED

Interview: Refer to this file for the full document

Summary: Very much forethought and planning went into this interview. I'd had enough of having to deal with hazardous projectiles while I conversed with my interviewee, so I made sure to sabotage the entirety of BLU team the night before.

It was a very relaxing afternoon.

I deduced from our conversation that she enjoys predictability, to the point of removing emotions almost completely from her psyche. I'm given to believe that the loss of her sister's life during the 'unstoppable sentry' incident was the spark that ignited the powder keg. Of course, such a void of emotion meant only good news to the Administrator. Without emotions, friendship could not flourish.

At the time, this revelation came as a huge relief because she, despite having known me for at most a few days, began telling me about all sorts of events she'd rather not have talked about - only because I asked her and she didn't want to lie. At that moment, I noted her near-eligibility for the Element of Honesty. The only thing standing between her and that Element was her lack of emotions.

Not a few minutes later, she proved herself worthy of Honesty when she refused to kill her greatest nemesis, the BLU Spy who killed her sister, because she was afraid that I, a stranger to her, would get hurt.

Touching. But at that moment, she was no longer in the clear.

After that, I... took care of the situation, then reported back to the Administrator. He was most pleased.

The Medic

Role: Healer, Support (Invincibility, damage boost, rapid healing, damage resistance via Ubercharge, depending on weapon)

Name: Fluttershy

Age: 20

Gender: Female

Species: Pegasus

Team Interviewed: BLU

Interview: The file has been separated into three parts, this file, this file and this file

Summary: A little bit of inconvenience accompanied me during my journey to the interview site - BLU's Canterlot Valley base from which they were preparing to mount an offensive - but on the whole I turned out alright. And the trouble proved to be most worth it; the Medic is a very interesting character.

I interrupted her during her surgery on the Heavy. Even now, I'm still not entirely sure what medical purposes the operation served, but apparently it was the test run of a new medigun prototype. According to the Medic, it was meant to eliminate the effects of knockback completely. I was instantly suspicious, because that was already the effect of the old medigun prototype, the Quick-Fix.

It was not, however, a suspicion I could begin to pursue immediately. My job, first and foremost, was to conduct interviews. As it happens, the Medic is rather shy and insecure, but I got the feeling that there was something else lurking under her shell of bashfulness. Something darker.

I got to meet that side of her first-hoof when RED team sprang a surprise attack on the BLU base. I was captured by their Sniper and hauled after her as she manoeuvred around the battlefield. At this time, BLU had already employed the standard Medic-Heavy combination, and the Sniper sought to end it. Despite my interference, she managed to get off a perfect shot at the Heavy.

Both of us underestimated the Medic. A split-second Ubercharge saved her heal target. They soon retreated far into their base when the Heavy ran out of ammo, relying on the buildings to provide sufficient cover. The REDs chased them, and somehow the BLU Medic managed to take out the Demomare, Engineer, Heavy and Soldier with nothing but her saw and the element of surprise. Unfortunately, she eventually succumbed to the Sniper's superior skill, and were it not for the Heavy's timely return from the resupply room, she might have died. It's painful business, even with a respawn point.

We brought her back to her operating theatre and nursed her back to health. Or, more accurately, I followed instructions, mindlessly pulling buttons and flicking switches as I contemplated how to bring an end to this interview.

I later got my chance. I invited her out of the room for a private conversation. She agreed. When asked why she didn't just fight on the front lines herself instead of being a healer, she explained that her tragic past had made her into the pony she was today. She wasn't afraid to kill, not by any means - one of the Administrator's tests for admission into the mercenary teams was to kill an innocent in cold blood - but she wanted to kill only when absolutely necessary or if it contributed towards her larger goal of healing and saving.

The greater ends justify the means, basically. I almost said as much. Before I did, however, she insisted on swearing me to secrecy on a topic she wanted to broach. I agreed.

Then she dropped the bombshell. The medigun prototype I saw earlier wasn't just meant to get rid of knockback. It was supposed to bring the dead back to life.

I couldn't believe it. She explained that it worked via rapid regeneration of tissue, meaning that if somepony had died recently they could - theoretically - be restored to life. Before she sent me off, she reminded me of my promise and asked me to ensure the Administrator never found out. I told her I would.

When I got back to the base, I told the Administrator everything. To my understanding, he had the medigun destroyed, along with the blueprints, a few days later. He also told me to mark her as the potential Element of Kindness.

There is much I don't know, but I do know where my loyalties lie.

The Sniper

Role: Assassination (Far-Ranged), Support (Damage boost)

Name: Twilight Sparkle

Age: 19

Gender: Female

Species: Pegacorn(RED)/Unicorn(BLU) - refer to the file under Chapter 2: The Crystal Empire for details

Team Interviewed: RED

Interview: Refer to this file for the full document

Summary: Having recently recovered from her ascension to alicornism, the Sniper met me on Canterlot Mountain. She was ferried there by a pegasus-drawn carriage.

I suppose apotheosis comes with a few perks.

As usual, I spoke with her for a while, and I found out that she really doesn't like being pampered and tended to by the guard pegasi. In perhaps an act of defiance of the royal status quo, she insisted on living with a unicorn named Trixie Lulamoon in her trailer. A compromise was apparently struck; the guards now tow around that trailer as a carriage.

Also, Trixie still charges her rent. It seems disrespectful to me, but then again it could be part of the defiance. It is most certainly part of her act to appear aloof towards the Sniper, though. I was treated to a little scene later where Trixie came close to confessing her infatuation. It was very entertaining. Whether the feelings are reciprocal is a matter on which I am still unclear.

Regardless of her personal grievances with the perks of royalty and her love life, the Sniper is a deadly foe. Despite the fact that we were perched on a mountain ledge, far above the battle raging at the foot of the mountain, she fired every arrow - yes, she was using a Huntsman, of all weapons - with eerie precision, scoring headshot after headshot on the hapless BLU team. At one point she fired three arrows at once and nearly landed all three in the skulls of some poor mercenaries.

She is very skilled. But perhaps more importantly, she displays an uncanny ability to bend arcane magic to her will - not to mention that she, despite the fact that most of her life is spent fighting, still spends the rest of her spare time studying wizardry.

She was eligible for the Element of Magic. I took note of it.

I ended the interview a little while later, after she foiled an attack by the BLU Spy. Perhaps I was a little rattled; after all, this was the same Spy I would be interviewing a few days from now. Hopefully she wouldn't hold a grudge...

The Spy

Role: Assassination (Close-Ranged), Espionage

Name: Rarity

Age: 19

Gender: Female

Species: Unicorn

Team Interviewed: BLU/RED (We are talking about the Spy, after all)

Interview: Refer to this file for the full document

This interview was originally meant for the BLU Spy. However, the night before, she came to me requesting that I interview her RED counterpart. I hesitated, but she produced a signed document from the Administrator himself condoning the appeal. I had no choice but to agree.

During the interview itself, the RED Spy treated me to an informal tour of their base. It ended prematurely when we stumbled across the Engineer's dead body, surrounded by her destroyed machinery. We sounded the intruder alert alarm immediately. After that, the Spy and I rendezvoused with the Scout, Soldier and Heavy in the intel room.

We discussed a few tactics at that point; anything that would be able to keep BLU Team away from the intelligence. We eventually decided, under the assumption that there was an entire team out there ready to gun us down, to fight our way out with the intel and escape to safety.

The Spy left first in order to scout out the area under her shroud of invisibility. We all agreed, but when she didn't return after a while we began to get worried. I suggested that we go out and search for her - and smash any BLU defenses we might encounter. Everypony agreed.

We headed out, and to our great surprise everything was quiet. We explored for a few minutes and it soon became clear that there was no BLU Team around. Certainty was established when the RED Spy herself showed up and explained to us that she'd checked every inch of the place and there was no opposition.

She then went on to say that the BLU Spy was one of us. It struck me as suspicious that, after disappearing for a while and returning, that she should suddenly show up and claim that she'd found the intruder. I suspected that she was merely diverting attention from herself to somepony else, and that in reality the RED Spy was really just the BLU Spy in disguise.

I acted accordingly, killing the Spy. Unfortunately for me, I turned out to be wrong and the real BLU Spy, disguised as the Scout, killed both the Heavy and Soldier and escaped with the intelligence.

Very unfortunate. Oh well. At least the intelligence was later recovered.

Also, while this interview may not have addressed it, she is eligible for the Element of Generosity. Several other conversations with fewer cases of sabotage and death revealed it.

I think this was the most useless interview so far.

The Pyro

Role: Medium Assault (Fire), Anti-Espionage

Name: Pinkamena Diane Pie

Age: 19

Gender: Female

Species: Earth Pony

Team Interviewed: BLU

Interview: This file has been separated into two sub-parts, this file and this file, and three main parts, this file, this file and this file

Summary: She goes by many names. Pinkie Pie, the Pyro, and exclusively for BLU Team's Pyro, Pinkamena Diane Pie. The adopted daughter of Discord, the Administrator himself, both RED and BLU Pyros have been blessed with chaos magic that allows them to defy the very laws of physics and logic, though not to the extent of their father. In the aftermath of the 'unstoppable sentry' incident, however, the BLU Pyro's defiance led the Administrator to afflict her with multiple personalities, each 'taking over' control of her body when the right conditions are met. However, personalities are, perhaps, not the best word to describe it, as each one has a mind of its own. Think of it as the offspring of a love affair between schizophrenia and split-personality disorder.

Essentially, three of them share one body. They are Pinkamena, Diana, and Pinkie Pie. Yes, I, the pony writing this, am Diana, whom my father sent to carry out the interviews. To avoid being recognized immediately - since I had to forgo my usual flame-retardant suit for some semblance of normality - he cast an illusion spell on me.

The three personalities are as follows:

Pinkamena:

This mind is characterized by her lust for blood and the suffering of others. When Pinkie feels angry or fearful - standard emotions in the midst of battle - the active personality is replaced with this one, allowing her to viciously tear apart anypony standing in her way. She doesn't think so much as act, and is driven by her instincts.

Diana:

This mind is unique in that it is the only one to feature a straight mane and tail when active, compared to the other two who display the usual poofy hairstyle. After the battle ends, Pinkamena's personality will, in a moment of calm, transition to this one. Diana is analytic and calculative, displaying a high level of intelligence and thoughtfulness in her actions. Often the best choice of personalities in the immediate aftermath of a fight, since she has the mental capacity to make smart decisions quickly - where Pinkamena might, after narrowly winning a battle, simply jump into the next one without a care, Diana would realize that tactical retreat would be the better option in her current condition.

Pinkie Pie:

The original personality. She is a bubbly and fun mare, obsessed with keeping a smile on everypony's faces. Whether it be parties, pranking or just simple jokes, she's on top of everything. It was this personality that refused to kill because of her friendship with the RED Scout, Rainbow. To remove her inhibitions, the Administrator made it such that Pinkamena would be active when killing was necessary - that is, during battle - and Pinkie would be active when off-duty.

In addition to the personality spell, a hallucination spell was cast on Pinkie Pie, but only Pinkie Pie and not the other personalities. The purpose was to spare her from having to watch Pinkamena slaughter mercilessly, instead allowing her to hallucinate whatever she wanted. This was necessary because while the other personalities might not be in control, they could still see, feel, and hear everything around them.

As for the interview, I didn't need to bother about taking notes; the Administrator was watching me personally with the cameras he'd put up all over Canterlot. With my interview came a mission: I was to kill the five potential Element Bearers I had identified on RED Team: The Sniper, Scout, Engineer, Medic, and Spy, so that the Administrator could withhold their respawn until such a point in time when he gained possession of the Elements. First, I was supposed to infiltrate the Empire's capital and the royal palace. It wasn't hard, since under my identity of Diana, the interviewer, I got free passage into the castle.

Unfortunately, a little... incident... led to a perceived threat on my end. As a result, Pinkamena emerged as the dominant personality and laid waste to half of Canterlot. An unnecessary delay. Thankfully, it didn't get in the way of completing the task I'd been given. The later meeting in the highest observatory tower of Canterlot Castle brought me face-to-face with my targets. An illusion the Administrator had preemptively cast on the only window in that room kept them from noticing the destruction Pinkamena had wrought upon the rest of the city.

We talked for a little while, but evidently the Administrator started to get impatient, because he removed the illusion he'd cast on me and revealed me as the Pyro, forcing me to fight - and fight I did. I managed to kill everyone but the Scout, who, thanks to her history of close friendship with Pinkie Pie, almost got off the hook. Almost. The Scout brought Pinkie into control of the shared body by reminding her of the good times they'd shared - the Administrator might want to make adjustments to his personality spell to avoid such situations - but Pinkie's sense of... responsibility to her father drove her to finish the job.

Thereafter, we brought all the bodies back to the main base. The RED Pyro did so as well, as the Administrator had sent her to do the same job as me (not the interview, killing the five BLU potential Element Bearers). That means in total, we're ten mercenaries down. We're all set to revive them at a moment's notice, though, since the threat of the changelings is still hovering over our heads.

Soul Sisters

It was twilight over Canterlot. The tall spires cast dark shadows on the wreckage of days past - but, of course, mostly from the time the BLU Pyro paid it a little visit. There were traces of the destruction almost everywhere but the palace itself.

Fortunate, then, Luna thought as her royal carriage descended onto the castle platform, that we won't have to set hoof anywhere near that.

"So, your highness," her Chief Diplomat, an earth pony with a modest brown coat, was saying, "it is imperative that you do not allow Celestia to believe that this destruction was your doing. You absolutely must stress to her that it was the Administrator who sent the Pyro here, not you."

"Of course." She was barely listening.

"And you cannot mention the invitation letter for the peace talks Princess Celestia sent you either. Such an act naturally brings much shame upon the Empire, and I doubt she wants to be reminded that she gave up the diplomatic cold war."

"Yes, this is the third time you've said it, Diplomat Mente." I really shouldn't have invited him into my carriage.

"I had no choice but to emphasize its importance, Princess." He bowed deeply. "My apologies if I appear to be rambling."

"Rest easy, my subject. We must direct our attention to the coming negotiations."

"Of course, your majesty." He sighed. "Please forgive my nervousness. For the first time in a thousand years the opportunity to end the headache that has plagued our diplomats and foreign relations department is in sight, and if we make even a single mistake..." He trailed off.

"Fear not. I do not intend to decline a peace offer. At the very least, we will have a short armistice for the Empire to recover from this tragedy."

"Any form of peace is a victory for all ponykind, Princess."

"Doubtlessly." Her horn flashed and the carriage door swung open. "Come, Chief Diplomat. We have arrived."

"Thank you." Mente bowed again, his mane brushing briefly against the floor, then hurried out. He bumped his way past the two bat-winged pegasus guards outside, who seemed briefly shocked that their Princess had - god forbid - opened the door herself. Their discipline, however, was not to be underestimated. A short moment was all they needed to reassume their expressions of impassiveness.

Luna sent a curt nod their way, both as acknowledgement and an order to stay close to her. They obeyed, falling into a measured cadence by her side as she strode over to Celestia's welcome committee.

"We are honoured to be graced by your presence, Princess Luna of the New Lunar Republic." The leading pony of the committee, a white, amber-maned unicorn dressed in elaborate garments, sent a wide smile her way. "My name is Prince Blueblood."

The last time she'd had to deal with the insufferable nobles of the Imperial regime, it took all she had not to spit in their arrogant, pretentious faces. Now, a thousand years later, she still felt the distaste welling up in her throat.

"Dispense with the formalities." She said coldly. The smile dropped off his face. "Lead me to my sister."

"Of... of course, Princess." Blueblood frowned at the bluntness, but made no protest. He gave the rest of the committee a brief gesture. They moved aside to allow Luna and her guards passage. He was, however, not above turning his nose up at Mente as he scurried by.

This motion did not evade Luna. Her respect for him dropped below zero. "Prince Blueblood, you will show the appropriate respect to my Chief Diplomat."

He looked shocked. "But... but Princess, he is but a lowly earth pony! A commoner!"

Her patience reached its limit. "The Republic does not recognize ponies based on their race, Prince. Ours is a meritocracy that brings those most deserving of a position to glory - unlike your Empire, which sits the most talentless and worthless ones upon gilded thrones and calls them Princes."

Blueblood gaped. His face was a picture of astonishment. Even the Chief Diplomat wore a look of consternation.

"Please forgive her highness, Prince Blueblood." He apologized. "She spoke in a moment of anger. She means nothing by it-"

"Silence!" Blueblood commanded.

"Enough." Luna said. "You will not treat him as your subordinate. Prince. He is by far your superior."

"Hmph!" He wrinkled his nose in disgust. "That peasant, my superior? More ludicrous jokes have never been told."

"Please, if you two would just-"

"There are few jokes more ludicrous than you." Luna shot back.

"What- I-" He snorted. "I cannot believe Aunt Celestia is related to somepony so... so... uncouth!"

"And I cannot believe my sister is the aunt of such a pretentious imbecile."

Blueblood flinched. "I refuse to lead you any further."

"Then when I finally do find my sister I will tell her why I am an hour late for the meeting."

He seethed quietly. "It is down the corridor. Turn right at the end. My aunt waits behind the second door on the left."

"Thank you." With a huff, Luna turned away and kicked whatever dust there was on the floor into Blueblood's face, chuckling internally as he let out a disgusted grunt. Her guards followed through with their own little kicks, a gesture which elicited a most un-princess-like snigger.

"Um... excuse me, Princess?"

"Yes, Diplomat?"

"I, uh, don't want to seem like I'm panicking," he panicked, "but did you just insult an Imperial Prince?"

"I did."

"With all due respect, do you realize that we may have compromised all hope for a peace settlement?"

"Not at all." Luna shrugged. "My sister hates those nobles only marginally less than I do. If they didn't comprise the backbone of the Imperial Court she wouldn't put up with them."

"Are you sure Princess Celestia won't be offended?"

"Not at all. In fact, I'm guessing she's going to thank me for putting that arrogant twit in his place."

"... If you say so, your highness."

Luna reached the end of the corridor. "Guards, wait outside the room. Do not enter unless I order you to. Is that understood?"

"Yes, Princess."

"You too, Diplomat Mente."

Mente looked puzzled. "But Princess, shouldn't the Chief Diplomat be present for the negotiations?"

"I know my sister well enough to tell that she would rather have a private meeting." Luna gestured to the cluster of ponies outside the door Blueblood had indicated. "I believe the unicorn beside those Imperial guards is her own Chief Diplomat."

"He's... waiting outside?"

"Precisely. As I said: a private meeting."

Mente bowed. "Your wish is my command."

Luna nodded in acknowledgement and, with a readjustment of her regal posture, strode forward to the waiting Imperial soldiers.

The guards exchanged meaningful looks. In unison, they stepped aside respectfully and pushed the door open.

Luna entered.

The first detail that caught her eye was the lavish cobalt carpet that stretched from corner to corner of the room. And it wasn't as if the room itself was small; no, it was easily two, maybe three times bigger than the average living room in Canterlot. The mosaic on the ceiling, a perfect copy of Celestia's cutie mark, occupied just as much space. A large window spanning the entire east wall gave Luna a splendid view of the Imperial capital's majesty and the unfortunate extent of its recent devastation.

And at the centre of all the extravagance, a regal alicorn, her prismatic mane waving in a non-existent breeze, regarded her with a benevolent gaze.

"Hello, Luna." Celestia smiled. "It's been a while."

"Greetings, sister." Her tone wasn't too cold, as things stood, but Celestia wished it could have been a little friendlier.

"Come, sit with me." She gestured at the carpet one of her boot-licking nobles had seen fit to purchase. To his credit, it is quite comfortable.

"Of course." Luna moved with a stiff gait, one that implied, paradoxically, both gratitude and displeasure. She assumed her place on the carpet.

"Now, before we begin the peace talks, is there anything you wish to clarify with me?"

Luna eyed her suspiciously. "An odd question. Do you have something in mind?"

"I don't know..." Celestia tapped her chin in feigned thoughtfulness. "Perhaps a denial of responsibility for your Pyro's actions?"

If there were some harder object to smash her hooves down on, Luna would probably have made do with it, but she was forced to resort to an indignant slam on the unsatisfyingly soft carpet as she stood up angrily. "I assure you, sister, the Republic truly has nothing to do with this travesty!"

"Oh, I believe you."

"You must understand, we- wait, you believe me?"

"Why not?" Celestia shrugged. "You and I, despite our differences in governmental beliefs, ultimately seek only good for Equestria and its denizens. Such an act of cruelty is far too heavy a weight on your conscience for you to ever consider."

"I... I am glad that you see it that way." Luna sat back down. Clearly, she was expecting more resistance.

"Now, on to the important matters." Her benevolent smile wilted somewhat. "Such as the content of the... message."

Luna looked surprised. It was as if she hadn't expected the matter to be brought up so bluntly. "Ever quick to skip past decorum, sister."

"I try." Clearly, my Diplomatic Advisor was misguided in his belief that Luna would be offended by my mentioning the letter she sent me. "But it is clearly an issue that must be dealt with posthaste."

"I am, of course, in complete agreement." Luna paused and gave the room a quick once-over. "We are alone, are we not?"

"We are." Celestia said. "But just to be sure..." Her horn flashed with arcane magic. "... A soundproofing spell is good insurance."

"Doubtlessly. However, I feel that there is some lingering unsettling presence in this room. Something that wishes harm upon us and our people. I am, however, unable to ascertain their identity or intent at the present moment."

"Luna?"

"It is as if some audacious miscreant has deemed it fit to intrude upon the privacy of our diplomatic meeting—"

"Luna."

"— and I can promise you, should this infiltrator truly exist, they shall be well acquainted with the extent of my power before the day is done—"

"Luna!"

She shut up.

"There's nopony here. You can drop the act now."

Confusion was etched across her face. "Drop the... act?"

"Yes, the act. Surely it gets tiring speaking like an advanced linguistics expert?"

Luna just seemed even more bewildered. "Tiring? Why would it be tiring?"

"Because... because... don't you find it inconvenient to make everything you say sound grandiloquent?"

"Nay. By now such verbal tendencies have worked their way naturally into my speech."

Celestia's eyes widened. "Oh my. So... you are like this all the time?"

"Correct. The speech mannerisms I present are the ones that are. I have no intention of hiding my true face from the citizens of the Republic."

"That is... sad."

Luna raised an eyebrow. "How so, sister?"

"I... never mind. We'd better get back to the topic at hoof."

"What was... right, the peace talks."

"We both know that peace has to be made soon, if not now, for two main reasons." Celestia raised a hoof. "One: It has become painfully clear that the Administrator is abusing his power over our mercenaries. Such destruction as the one the Pyro has caused cannot be tolerated, not to mention that, thanks to both the Pyros, our teams are down five members each."

"Agreed." Luna nodded. "He must be dealt with, and swiftly."

"Two: It has become painfully clear that the Administrator has already abused his power over us." She paused. "Can you feel it, Luna?"

"Feel... what, exactly?"

"You know what I'm talking about. The threads of chaos magic?"

"Ah. That... thing." Luna shuddered. "Remind me not of that abomination."

"What has it done to you?"

"It's... my dark side, so to speak. The chaos magic brought together all my worst qualities and formed a personality that threatens to take control of my body."

"Well... that sounds harsh." Celestia said. "I haven't concluded as much yet."

"That is probably because mine, for whatever reasons, seems to be in the later stages of its development. I fight constantly to keep that nightmare suppressed. It threatens to overwhelm me with every passing moment."

"You do not seem very burdened." Celestia remarked.

"As of now, its attempts are feeble and ineffectual. However, there is no telling when it will come to maturity." Luna extended her right hoof. "For now, we must put our struggle for the good of Equestria aside to confront a threat that is, very objectively speaking, even more perilous to the good we seek."

"Right." Celestia took the hoof and shook it warmly. "From here on out, the Solar Empire and the New Lunar Republic are officially at peace."

Luna withdrew her hoof in surprise. "Wait, that's it? No documents to sign, no terms to discuss? Nothing?"

"It is just an agreement, after all." She shrugged. "Besides, the only thing extra paperwork is going to give me is a migraine when the nobles criticize me for agreeing to terms too lenient for their tastes."

"So it is more of an unofficial truce, then?"

"Why not? I see no reason for either of us to betray the other until we force the Administrator to heal us of his scourge." Celestia paused. "And then seal him away with the Elements of Harmony."

"Are you sure that such a gambit will succeed?"

"Not a doubt. Remember that the Elements are effective against all of Father's magic. That means me, you, and of course... him."

"Correct me if I am wrong," Luna said drily, "but are our potential Element bearers not temporarily indisposed?"

"We just have to find and reactivate the respawn points."

"Easier said than done, sister."

"But it will never be done if we do not try. Besides, it is two against one. The odds are with us."

From somewhere in the room, a dark chuckle answered her statement. "Far from it. The odds are with no one but I."

Luna stood up instantly, horn aglow. "Where are you, whelp? Show yourself!"

"Relax. I come in peace." A column of green fire burst forth from a tiny ant on the ground. "Mostly."

"What is your intention, stranger?" Celestia asked.

"Stranger? Oh, you wound me." Slowly, the flames dissipated, leaving behind the hole-ridden body of a tall, black-carapaced alicorn. "Don't you recognize your dear sister?"

Celestia glanced sideways at Luna. The latter gazed at the newcomer with an expression of thinly-veiled disbelief. "You? Again?"

"What do you want, Chrysalis?" Celestia snapped.

"The same thing I wanted a thousand years ago." Chrysalis answered smoothly. "Food for my subjects. Unless you've already forgotten?"

"I- We have not." Luna retorted. "But it seems that you have forgotten our reply."

"Now what makes you say that? No, this time is different."

"How so?" Celestia asked.

"This time I come armed—"

"Lay down your weapons!" Luna shouted.

"— with a persuasive argument."

"Oh."

"Now, consider this." Chrysalis started trotting circles around the two princesses. From her sitting position, Celestia began to feel small. She rose to her hooves slowly, eyeing the changeling. "You do remember Sombra, no?"

"He's... already been taken care of." Luna said stiffly. "Both he and his Crystal Empire."

"Not that pathetic tactician of yours. I'm talking about Father." Chrysalis smirked. "Not, of course, that I think it's any coincidence you two made sure both Father and that mad murderer share the same name."

"Yes, yes." Celestia ignored that last part. "So what about him?"

"Father gave you an order. You disobeyed it. Why?"

"Which one? The one about mass genocide or the one where he told us not to freeze him in stone?"

"The first one."

"... Really, I do think that statement is self-explanatory."

"Exactly." Chrysalis said. "Because, after all, how can genocide possibly be justified?"

Celestia saw what she was driving at. "This is different. I know your changelings are starving, but to feed them would cause a disaster for national security."

"I would question why national security is more important than saving lives," Chrysalis deadpanned, "but do go on. Explain yourself."

"Letting changelings loose in the Empire—"

"And the Republic." Luna added.

"— and the Republic, is akin to flooding the streets with spies. Spies who can shapeshift at will."

"We wouldn't be having this conversation if your anti-changeling shields weren't as effective as they are." Chrysalis pointed out.

"The Republic prides itself on its great strides in the research of magic." Luna puffed out her chest with pride.

"But not so much on its ability to keep the secrets of its magical advances secure." Celestia said.

"Shut up, sister."

"Ahem." Chrysalis cleared her throat. "We've strayed from the topic."

"Right, right, sorry." Celestia apologized. "Go on."

"Now where was I... Oh yes. Covering secure locations with those shields would make them all changeling-proof."

"But that's not the only factor. The citizens of the Empire, and the Republic," she hastily added, "will never accept this."

"Not to mention that the Cabinet will never allow such a prevalence of shapeshifters in Republic territories." Luna said.

"Eventually," Celestia continued, "they'll all start to wonder whether their loved ones have been replaced with changelings. Fear and uncertainty would rule."

"You can't blame them. That's pretty much what I'm going to have to do." Chrysalis explained.

"... Then I'm afraid these negotiations are over."

Chrysalis sighed and turned away. "I... see."

"I'm sorry it has to be this way."

"I'm sure you are." She looked out the window. Celestia and Luna glanced at each other, then at her.

Silence reigned.

Finally, it grew too awkward for Luna. "What are you doing?"

"Thinking." Chrysalis said, a small frown on her face. "Even if I might not show it, it breaks my heart when I realize that none of my subjects will ever be as well off as yours."

Celestia leaned forward to get a closer look. "You're looking at the victims of the BLU Pyro's latest mass murder. They've lost everypony they hold dear."

"Is that all?" She turned to Celestia and snorted. "Each one of my changelings lose their families on a weekly basis."

Neither of the Princesses had a good answer to that.

"Three weeks." She just stated, and turned back.

"Three weeks?" Luna asked.

"That's the average life of a changeling. Usual routine: Be born, work for a while, mate, then die. Rinse, wash and repeat."

"That is... tragic." Celestia sighed. "But I cannot change my stance on this."

"Neither can I. Perhaps the separatists might be amenable to your proposal?" Luna suggested.

"I went to them first, obviously. And they - like you two - had no reason to accept." Chrysalis hung her head in resignation.

"Listen, Chrysalis." Celestia walked up to her and lifted her head. "I know things aren't good for you right now. I know you just want the best for your people. But I'm certain that, with determination and patience, everything will work out for-"

"No!" She snapped. "Don't you get it? 'And they all lived happily ever after'. That's how you end a fairytale. But in real life, it's never the same. Evil wins. Ponies die. And there is no happy ending for anypony but the luckiest of them all."

"Be as it may, I think—"

"I don't care what you think." Chrysalis took a deep breath, and when she next spoke, the anger was gone. "I need to do what it necessary to protect my changelings. I'm sure you understand."

Celestia nodded. "I do."

"Then I'm sure you understand when I tell you that I have only one choice left."

"What is that?"

"Invasion."

"What?!" Luna gasped.

"I understand." Celestia said evenly. "But I'm afraid I won't just roll over and die for you. We Equestrians are very tough."

"Oh, I never expected you to." A ghost of a smile rested on Chrysalis' fanged mouth. "But you'll find that my changelings aren't pushovers either."

"This— this is an outrage!" Luna exclaimed. "Surely, sister, you're not just going to sit here and listen to this?"

"Of course not. I'm going to suggest, politely, that she leave. Now." Celestia kept her gaze fixed on Chrysalis, watching for any suspicious movements. "You have overstayed your welcome."

"I'm not leaving." Chrysalis never took her eyes away from the window. "Get your soldiers to chase me out, if you must."

"Very well." Celestia's horn lit up and the door swung open. "Guards! Kindly escort our uninvited visitor out of the city."

"Diplomat Mente!" Luna said. "Bring our guards in here as well."

"As you wish, Princess." Both Imperial and Republic troops intoned in unison. They marched into the room, headed by their respective Chief Diplomats.

I'm positive she's going to try something. Celestia refused to look away from the changeling queen. Out of the corner of her eye, she noted that Luna was doing the same. But what?

"... Are you sure you want to do this?" Chrysalis asked slowly.

"I have no other choice." Celestia stated firmly.

"Nor do I." Luna said,

"Then... then you two have sealed your fates." Chrysalis let out a final sigh, and her horn began to glow with a sickening green aura.

"Stop, now. Whatever it is that you're doing, it's not going to-" Celestia stopped. Her eyes grew wide. Pain erupted in her back. A small tendril of blood released itself from her mouth and trickled down her cheek.

"Sister!" Luna gasped. "What-"

shlck

"Ugh..." Luna collapsed in a heap. "What... Diplomat... Mente?"

"Sorry, but I serve no Princess of Equestria." Mente snarled, plunging the knife one more time into her back. "Only the one true Queen."

Celestia, for her part, lost the last of her strength in her legs. She fell and rolled over, staring into the green irises of her own Diplomatic Advisor. "... Why?"

"My deepest apologies, Princess." Part of his face dissolved, exposing a malevolent blue eye set in a dark face of exoskeleton. "But you are in the way."

shlck

The vibrant colour of the room faded to red, and then finally black.

"My Queen, it is done." The last vestiges of Diplomat Mente fell away from the changeling's body in a burst of green fire. "What are your orders now?"

Chrysalis pondered silently as she stared out the window. "... Tell the army to swarm Canterlot. We take it today."

"At once." The changeling turned to leave.

"One more thing, Commander Protea."

"Yes, your highness?"

"Tell everyone that... the famine is finally over."

She bowed low. "It will be done, my Queen."

"Then go."

The clattering of chitinous hooves faded as Protea left the room.

"What about us?" One by one, the faces of the assorted Equestrian guards morphed into those of her changelings.

Chrysalis said nothing, gazing out over Canterlot and breathing a sigh of relief. "Finally, at the end of the thousand-year night, dawn is upon us.

"Go, my subjects. Feed!"

Explosition

White. It was all white. Nothing was out here but the whiteness.

And Twilight Sparkle.

She recognized the place; it was that otherworldly plane of existence where every mercenary had to wait before they could respawn. It was nothing new.

Only one problem: She'd already been there for days.

"Any time now." She called out to nopony in particular. "I'm not getting any younger."

As always, the white void refused to reply.

Twilight sighed and sat down. At least, whatever invisible floor this place had, it could hold her weight. Sitting and waiting was a lot better than falling and waiting. Especially when she wasn't sure how far down the end would be.

Ordinarily, she would be incredibly excited at the opportunity to study the mystery of the void. She'd rush around, taking all the mental notes she could in the twenty seconds before she returned to the world of the living.

This time? ... Well, she had done pretty much the same thing for the first hour. After that, it became increasingly clear that there was, in fact, nothing to be studied in a void.

In hindsight, Twilight reflected, it really wasn't that big a surprise at all.

The rest of the time was spent trotting around in circles, catching up on lost sleep, going through spellcasting procedures, moping in boredom, and contemplating the deep mysteries of life. A far cry from her usual productivity.

Too bad there was only so much one could do while dead.

"Guess there's only one thing to do." Twilight sighed. "One squared is one. Two squared is four. Three squared is nine..."

"... Five thousand, nine hundred and forty-six squared is thirty-five million, three hundred and fifty-four thousand, nine hundred and sixteen. Five thousand, nine hundred and forty-seven squared is-"

crack

"Huh?" Twilight looked around. "What was that?"

crack

"I- whoa!" Her right forehoof slid down into... into... Is that a hole?

She hurriedly stepped back and observed it. It seemed like a tear in the fabric of the white void's reality; despite the transparency of the floor itself, the maw beyond the hole was dark as night.

crack

It was loud. Louder than the rest. "That doesn't sound good."

She turned around. Or... maybe it's better than I thought.

All over the place, bits and pieces of the void detached themselves and fell away into the black maw behind them. The whole place was, slowly but surely, disassembling itself. That could only mean one thing.

"Yes!" Twilight bounced up and down in excitement. I feel like Pinkie. "Respawning at last!"

CRACK

"Finally, I get to- Ah!" The floor gave way. The smile still on her face, Twilight fell into the darkness.

"Twilight?"

Ugh. What happened?

"Twilight? You there?"

Ah, that's right. I finally respawned. But why is everything so dark?

"Twilight? Can you hear me?"

And for that matter, why can't I remember what the square of five thousand, nine hundred and forty seven is?

"TWILIGHT!"

"Gah! Thirty five million, three hundred and sixty-six thousand, eight hundred and nine!" Her eyes shot open. "Oh, phew. For a moment there, I thought I'd forgotten basic multiplication."

"We're all very happy for you," whoever is was deadpanned, "but I think we've got a bigger problem."

"Rainbow?" Twilight scrambled to her feet and turned around. "Is that you?"

"The one and only." She struck a heroic pose. "But, uh... do you know where we are?"

"Unfortunately, I have no idea." Twilight took a moment to survey her surroundings. The room they were in - at least she assumed it was a room; it could have been a really big box, for all she knew - was surrounded on all sides by four drab grey walls. That was it. No doors, no windows, no nothing. Just grey.

"Well... do you know how to get out?"

"I'm not sure." Twilight walked up to one of the walls and placed her hoof on it. It was cool to the touch. "It's an alloy of sorts, I think. Tough to break." She stepped back and observed the wall in its entirety. "It's about one and a half meters long and three-quarters of a meter high..."

"Yeah, this is cool and all, but is that even helpful at all?"

Twilight ignored her and touched her ear to the wall. "Sonorous. And... I can hear somepony talking."

"Really?" Rainbow rushed to her side and all but smashed her head on the wall in excitement. "Who is it?"

"I... can't tell. Not yet. It's too faint."

"Let me try." Rainbow pressed her ear to the wall. "... I think I heard 'should be awake by now'."

"That sounds about right." Twilight's ears perked up. "Wait, it's getting louder. They're coming towards us."

"... I know this is RED Team's respawn point." The voice was vaguely male. "But what I want to know is whose respawn point it is."

"There are two of them in each box." Another voice, distinctly female this time, replied. "This one belongs to the Scout and Sniper."

"Finally. You could have just told me that from the beginning."

"I guess. But it was funnier to irritate you."

"... I have no words."

"That was four."

"Never mind, forget it. Just tell me how to open this box."

"Well, you see, first you have to look at it."

"Right, look at it. Then?"

"Then you have to get whoever's inside to say something along the lines of 'The floor's never going to open up'."

"... Why, exactly, is that necessary?"

"It's to invoke the Tempting Fate trope. It'll increase the probability of the mechanism working when you push this button here."

"This button, huh?"

"Yeah, this one."

"So you mean it's not one hundred percent reliable?"

"You might need to press it twice or thrice."

"But how am I supposed to let them know what they have to do?"

"Just tell them. The box isn't soundproof."

"We heard you the first time!" Rainbow shouted.

"See?"

"Fine, fine, so you were right." He grunted. "Okay, Scout, go ahead."

"Gee, there's no way out of here at all!" Rainbow said loudly. "I mean, there's no way the floor's going to open up, right?"

click

"Gah!" The floor swung open abruptly. Twilight's wings snapped open in all their majestic glory, just a brief moment before she realised that she still didn't know how to fly. She dropped to the ground half a metre away like a rock and landed unceremoniously on her back. "Ow..."

"Oh dear." The male said. "Why isn't there a cushion?"

"The Administrator's orders." The female replied. "He likes it better this way."

"Well, this way's going to end up breaking the mercenaries' backs."

"Not the ones who can fly!" Rainbow whooped.

"That's two out of nine of us, Rainbow." Twilight rolled over, groaning. "Now, who are... you..."

She came face to face with the two most bizarre ponies she'd ever seen.

The mare, an earth pony with a pastel violet coat and a cutie mark of a screw and a baseball side-by-side, had a poofy mane that, apart from its dual-toned purple and white colour, reminded Twilight too much of Pinkie Pie. A propeller beanie rested on her head, spinning in a non-existent wind. Strangest of all, though, were the rotating swirls that served as her irises. They had an almost hypnotic effect. Twilight turned away from her discerning gaze.

The stallion, also an earth pony, instead bore a coat of plain brown. A queer translucent-blue cloak encircled his neck and fell all the way to his ankles. His right forehoof was encased in a particularly tough-looking shell of what Twilight supposed was armour. It then proceeded to pulse gently with eerie green energy. She backtracked slowly.

A griffon vulture had anchored itself to his shoulder, just stopping short of digging in with its razor-sharp talons. It glared at her.

Twilight looked up at the two earth ponies. "Uh..."

"Ah, sorry. I forgot to introduce myself." The stallion extended his hoof. "My name is Ician, and this is Screwball."

"Hi." Screwball said.

"Nice to meet you... ee-shee-an." For a moment, Twilight was afraid that she'd mangled the pronunciation. But Ician just smiled, and a small sense of relief replaced the anxiety. She accepted the proffered hoof and hauled herself to her hooves. "Where are we?"

"In the Administrator's base. He reactivated your respawn point."

"Why now?" Rainbow asked. "Did something happen?"

"You could say that." Screwball replied.

"You've only been dead for a few days," Ician explained, "so you haven't missed much. I'll be briefing both teams on the current circumstances in a while."

"Current circumstances?" Twilight cocked her head questioningly. "What changed?"

Ician gave her a meaningful look. "A lot."

"Don't worry, he'll fill you in later." Screwball gestured to a hallway on the right. "The briefing room's that way. I'll walk you there."

"What, you don't think we can go there by ourselves?" Rainbow demanded.

"Yes, because you'll probably enter the wrong room." Screwball trotted away. "But if you want to get lost, be my guest."

"But- hey, wait!" Rainbow hurried after her.

Twilight sighed. "Hold up, I'm coming..."

The place was huge.

Twilight stepped through the door and into another world. Earlier, the ceiling hadn't been a meter above her head; now, the walls stretched upwards so far that even the laser pointer from her rifle would have been invisible.

In front of her, an elaborate stage, complete with spotlights and a grand curtain, occupied half of the floor area. The other half was separated into a further two parts by a purple barrier. On the two sides of the barrier were seven of the nine mercenaries of both BLU and RED. From the looks of it, they were in the middle of a bitter glaring match.

Twilight noted, without surprise, that there was another door at the end of the room. It opened, and Ician - the vulture still perched on his shoulder - stepped in, leading the BLU Sniper and Scout into the hall. Rainbow acknowledged them with a cold scowl. The Scout returned the look, while the Sniper just shook her head in exasperation.

"Everypony, if I could have your attention for a few moments." Ician called. Nopony replied; the intensity of the glaring match was so great that anything caught between may well have withered and died.

"Everypony?" Still no answer.

"Look, if you will all-"

"BEHOLD THE GLORY OF THE GREAT AND POWERFUL TRIXIE!"

Well, that caught their attention. Twilight thought.

All eyes turned to the stage. A familiar azure-blue unicorn, clad in a magician's cloak and pointed hat, stood silhouetted against a myriad of fireworks. "I trust you have all been awed by Trixie's unparalleled greatness?"

"That's enough, Trixie." Ician marched onto the stage and brushed her away.

"But Trixie helped! She demands that she be allowed to stay on the stage."

Ician stared at her. "Fine. But don't interfere until I let you."

Trixie nodded.

"Now, everypony," Ician addressed the crowd, "I have bad news." He paused for dramatic effect. "You've all been fired."

Both teams let out a collective gasp of shock.

"What?!" Rainbow said in a bare whisper. "He can't be serious!"

"Wait." Twilight said. "Let's see what he says next."

"But don't worry, it's not that your employers don't want you." Another one of those irritating pauses. "They're just dead."

The entire room burst out into either disbelieving or confused muttering.

"That can't be true!" Rainbow gulped. "... Can it?"

Twilight was silent. A maelstrom of emotions rushed around in her head. Anguish, fury, hatred... Princess Celestia... dead?

"I know all of you are angry." Ician continued, ignoring the hubbub that quietened down soon after he spoke. "It's understandable; they were, after all, your rulers. Your princesses. Your employers. Whether or not you're upset about losing a god or a paycheck, the resentment is still there."

Twilight, though still in a shock-induced stupor, almost took offense to the implication that the most she saw in Princess Celestia was a sack of gold. A moment later, she remembered that a lot of her teammates fell under that category.

"But you'll all be glad to know that I know exactly who did it, so you can watch contentedly as karma zeroes in." Ician said. "And the rest of you will be happy to know that I'm hiring all of you to make sure that this killer gets what's coming to her."

"Who is it?!" Twilight shouted, almost choking on the lump of anger in her throat. The rest of her team stared at her as if she was crazy.

"I don't think she's ever had an outburst like that." Rarity whispered to Applejack.

"No surprise there. She's always been attached to Celestia." Applejack replied quietly.

"The one in question," Ician answered, "is Queen Chrysalis, sovereign of the Changeling Empire."

His explanation was met with blank stares.

"Ah... okay, Trixie, it's time for your little show."

"Finally!" Trixie dashed back onto centre stage, knocking a surprised Ician onto the ground. The vulture flew off his shoulder and hissed at her. "Quiet, bird. Now, prepare to be astounded by Trixie's sheer awe-inspiring performance!"

"Hey, wait!" Ician snapped. "I haven't-"

All the lights went off.

"Once upon a time," Trixie began dramatically, "in the magical land of Equestria, back when it had just been born..."

An azure aura shone through the darkness, and an image of a planet, dotted with lush green vegetation and clear blue oceans, manifested above the stage. "... The two Princesses, Celestia and Luna, breathed life into the first sentient individuals.

"The first kind were the ponies." The planet faded away and was replaced by a ghostly trio of equines. "The unicorns, pegasi and earth ponies were their favoured creations, for they shared their creators' image.

"The second kind were the zebras." The three apparitions dissolved and coalesced into a cloud of bluish smoke. A lone zebra stepped through the mist, dispelling it. "The Princesses were tinkering with their 'life creation' formula, and created something that was almost pony - but not quite. But life was life, and they gave these new zebras a place in the world.

"The third kind were the buffaloes." The zebra faded away, replaced by a charging buffalo. "They, too, were given land of their own. But it was the first indication that the Princesses' life-creating spell was slowly deviating from the usual equines.

"The fourth kind were the griffons." The buffalo suddenly turned back, shock written across his face, and then he toppled off the stage and disappeared. Behind him, a griffon stepped in, her claws dripping with blood. "They were a violent and merciless group; the perfect hunters. The Princesses didn't dare to let them roam free, so they gave the griffons a part of the world - a part that would be under constant surveillance.

"And finally, the fourth kind: the dragons." The griffon vanished under the enormous foot of a three-storey tall red dragon. Its illusory head brushed against the ceiling. "They were the closest to the Princesses in lifespan, each able to live thousands of years with ease. With great strength, tough hides, and swift flight, they lacked only magic. After they were created, Celestia and Luna realized that, as they refined their life-creating spell, the products grew steadily more dangerous. From then on, they resolved to make no new life.

"But there was one species they were not responsible for, under the rule of a being much like them: The changelings." The dragon exploded in a puff of green smoke, and out from from the cloud came a vast army of eerie blue-eyed creatures, silhouetted against the dim light. "They had the ability to shapeshift into any living creature at will, making them unparalleled in stealth and evasion. But, unlike other beings, they needed to consume the love of others as food to survive.

"Their creator, Queen Chrysalis," A tall, green-eyed changeling stepped to the forefront of the horde, "devised a plan that would allow her subjects to survive; they infiltrated equine society and moved from place to place, masquerading as loved ones to drain the love from hapless ponies everywhere. They went on like this until about a thousand years ago, when the changelings grew too numerous to evade detection. Their doings were uncovered by Luna, who went about creating a shield that would keep them out. Celestia soon realized the problem as well, sending her best magic team to reverse-engineer the shield and use it for the Empire. With nowhere else to go, the changelings faded away. They were assumed to have gone extinct, and the shields lost their purpose a few hundred years down the road. But that wasn't the last time they'd be seen.

"Two days ago, Celestia and Luna came together for a diplomatic meeting." The army of changelings faded away, replaced by a scene of the Imperial throne room. Celestia and Luna were in the centre. "They were discussing terms for peace. Chrysalis infiltrated it with the intention of finally securing a permanent and reliable source of food for her subjects."

At once, the illusion took on a very real look. The colours solidified, shadows appeared, and it looked for all the world like they were actually in the throne room.

"—so how do these terms sound?" Celestia was asking. Her voice was astoundingly realistic.

"They seem acceptable." Luna answered. "Now, I believe we can-"

"Not quite." A dark figure emerged from the shadows. "You haven't heard my terms yet."

"Chrysalis!" Celestia gasped. "How did you get in here?"

"I go wherever I please - and take whatever I want." She grinned evilly. "And now, I want your lives!"

"Not if I can help it!" Luna snapped. Her horn glowed, and a second later a beam of darkness arced towards the changeling queen.

"Foal's play." Chrysalis snorted. She raised her hoof and caught the brunt of the attack in one of the holes.

"Wha- how?"

"I am more powerful than you can ever imagine." She spun around theatrically and, with an elegant twitch, fired the collected magic back at her foe.

"Gah!" It caught Luna in the chest, hurtling her into the wall.

"Luna!" Celestia's eyes widened in shock.

"What now, Celestia?" Chrysalis sneered. "Even as I speak, my changelings stand poised to take your precious capital from you."

Celestia's trembled in anger. "You'll never get away with this!"

"But I just did. And you're powerless to stop me!"

"You're wrong. I can stop you and I will!" She shouted. "When BLU Team and RED Team get together to stop you, they'll-"

"Spare me." Chrysalis scoffed. "That will never work. They hate each other to the core."

"But if we tell them to," Luna gasped, clutching her chest painfully, "they'll do it for us!"

"I'd like to see you try to tell them when you're dead." Chrysalis smirked. "Say goodbye!"

The scene froze. A gust of wind swept away the throne room, bringing reality crashing back.

"And now," Trixie concluded, "here we stand, BLU and RED, at the brink of war. Equestria's fate depends on us working together, as one team. Can we put aside our differences for the sake of our brothers and sisters? Don't let them do to us what they did to Canterlot."

Dimly, Twilight became aware that her mouth was hanging open. She raised her right hoof and shut it manually. When did Trixie become so good at illusion spells?... And drama?

Perhaps more disconcerting was the fact that Trixie's performance had taken the grief out of her, even if only temporarily. Whether it was because the performance was that good, she'd been desensitized to death, or maybe.. Celestia forbid... she didn't care for her mentor as much as she thought she did... it was very chilling. Twilight forced the discomfort down.

"Alright, Q&A time." Ician trotted back onto the stage, his vulture once again attached securely to his shoulder. "Who wants to go first?"

The BLU Spy raised her hoof.

"Yes?"

"I, for one, would like to know: was that showdown absolutely accurate?"

"Not really." Ician shot Trixie a sideways glance. "Artistic license and all that. The truth is, the Princesses were caught unawares and killed. Chrysalis could never have overpowered the both of them in a fair fight."

"I see." She lowered her hoof.

"Anypony else?"

The BLU Pyro went next. "So, now that the Princesses are dead, what's going to happen to the cycle of day and night?"

"The Administrator has already taken over that duty. I got him to agree not to play with the sun and moon, so it should be fine." He paused. "If it isn't, then you know who to go to if you want to complain."

The Pyro nodded, muttering something unintelligible under her breath.

"Any more?"

"I have a question." Twilight called. "What happens now?"

"What happens now?"

"To Equestria, I mean. With Ce..." She bit her tongue and held back the flood of emotions. "... the Princesses dead, what's going to happen to the Empire and the Republic?"

"Good question." Ician said. "Now, as with most nations, after the leaders' death, command passes on to the second in line to the throne. The Republic's election results haven't come through yet, but from what I know Princess Cadance is the most likely candidate for their new ruler. According to Princess Celestia's will, the new Princess of Equestria is..." He eyed Twilight. "... You, Twilight Sparkle."

She froze. All at once, a million and one thoughts rushed through her head, displacing the whirlwind of emotions and replacing it with a hurricane of disbelief. "I... what... huh?"

"Really, I don't think there were any other possible successors." Ician continued. "The very fact that you have both a horn and wings already designates you as her favourite."

"But... but..." Twilight struggled to regain control of her speech. "But I'm just a mercenary! Not to mention a twenty-year-old mortal!"

"Evidently, that had no bearing on Celestia's decision." Ician bowed respectfully. "Congratulations, Princess Twilight."

"So... I... what should I do?"

"Several things, Princess." Ician answered. "The first would be to reaffirm your predecessor's plans for peace. With the new changeling threat, Princess Cadance will no doubt follow in your hoofsteps. United we stand, divided we fall. The second would be to call for the reapplication of the anti-changeling shields. We're going to need them."

"But don't I have some leadership affairs I should be taking care of?"

"Not particularly. Your ministers should be able to handle the bulk of the issues. You only need to be there to make judgement calls on important decisions. That's your job, as a ruler."

"I wonder; could I—"

"Yes, you can continue being a mercenary." Ician smiled. "After all, you are the Princess. You have the final say."

"How did you know I was going to ask that?"

"I saw it in your eyes, Princess." Ician chuckled. "So, any other questions?"

"Just one more." Twilight said. "How are we going to fight this 'Queen Chrysalis'? If it's just the nine- sorry, I mean eighteen of us, we can't even hope to defeat them."

"Quite true." Ician agreed. "But with the cooperation of the Empire and the Republic, we can set up a United Equestrian Army. Granted, we'd still be outnumbered ten to one, but it's better than nothing."

"Ten to one?" Twilight was horrified. "How do we win with odds like that?"

"Strategy." Ician answered simply.

"There's only so much strategy can do." Twilight pointed out.

"Perhaps." He admitted. "But more than that - I have all of you." He swept his right hoof out. "All of you mercenaries. The most highly trained, expert crack killing team Equestria has ever seen. And I'm going to make you even more powerful."

"How?" Twilight asked.

"For many years, I've been secretly researching changelings under the order of Princess Celestia. I've learnt a lot about what they can do - both in life and in death." He glanced at Rainbow. "You're probably wondering: what's with the getup?"

"What? No I wasn't!"

"Really?" Ician raised his eyebrow.

"I... uh... maybe." Rainbow admitted.

"Don't worry, it's a legitimate question. You see," Ician explained, "changeling exoskeletons are a treasure trove of magical energy. It's what allows them to shapeshift. The thing is, with the proper modifications this magic can be channeled to fulfill other uses." He lifted his right foreleg. "See this armour? It took two of those exoskeletons to make it. Since birth, I've been cursed with a genetic disease that disallowed me the use of my right leg. But the armour affords me partial - albeit somewhat painful - control over it."

"Then what about the cloak?" Rainbow asked.

"Oh, those were just spare bits and pieces - I didn't want to just throw the wings away." Ician waved his hoof dismissively. "But I've grown rather fond of it. Unfortunately, it doesn't serve any practical purpose. I've got a full suit of exoskeleton armour that - if I have no choice but to fight - I can use in battle."

"But what else can that changeling stuff do?"

"A great many things. Don't be surprised if Faye-" The vulture let out a rasping noise, "... that is, my vulture, starts speaking to you telekinetically. She's my contingency plan should communications ever go out."

Twilight was surprised. "Changeling magic can do that?"

"Oh, it can do a lot more. Its most important purpose will be to upgrade your weapons, albeit temporarily."

"Temporarily?" Twilight inquired.

"Temporarily." Ician repeated. "To be permanent, I'll need to attach upwards of twenty or so exoskeletons to the weapon in question - and that's just for the less powerful upgrades. Completely unfeasible."

"Ah."

"Take my hoof armour for example." He said. "Theoretically, I could shoot a swath of green flames from it, but then I wouldn't be able to use that leg at all for anywhere between the next few hours to the next few days. Besides, I spent years working on it; I'll have a few minutes at most to cobble your weapon upgrades together."

"Good point." Twilight conceded.

"Each of you is worth a whole battalion of troops on your own, and our shortage of troops means that you'll have to be deployed in a manner befitting your prowess." He paused. "Meaning, grossly outnumbered."

"But-"

"Don't worry, the respawn points will always keep you alive. Unless Chrysalis gets to them, of course."

She gulped.

"Nonetheless, for now it seems quite unlikely. But to take on such huge hordes of changelings, you'll need to come to Trixie and I every now and then, deliver all the exoskeletons you can, and get better upgrades."

"Trixie?" Twilight asked. "Why Trixie?"

"I needed an assistant, and she was very eager. She'll be waiting with me behind the front lines."

"Hey, why do you get to stick at the back lines?" Rainbow demanded. "We have to risk our lives out there."

"Three reasons." Ician replied. "One: I have no respawn point. Two: My right hoof, usable as it is, is too weak to handle weapons of such great weight and massive recoil."

"Not even pistols?" Twilight asked.

"Perhaps pistols." He acknowledged. "But nothing beyond that. Shotguns are completely out of the question."

"Oh." An earth pony without strength. I already feel sorry for him...

"Anyway, the third reason is that I'm going to be the active commander-in-charge of the United Equestrian Army."

"What?!" Twilight's eyes widened in surprise. "Did the Princess authorize it?"

"Neither of them did." Ician said bluntly. "But that's not the point. It's a matter of pride for the Empire and the Republic; they won't accept a general that the other side recommends, because it would seem like they're giving in to the other's pressure."

"But I won't make a fuss." She protested.

"Maybe not, but your ministers will. And so will your citizens. And you'll be immensely unpopular if you go against their wishes."

"But- but then why you?"

"Simple: I was recommended by the middle ground."

"The Administrator." Twilight growled. Okay, I take back what I thought earlier. He's not pitiful at all!

"Spot on."

"He's manipulating you. Like a puppet on strings."

"Ah... not quite." Ician smirked. "You've got it backwards."

"That's just what he wants you to think." Twilight warned. "You can't outsmart him. He's had thousands of years of experience, for Celestia's sake!"

"I understand that you're concerned for me, but I assure you—"

"Concerned? Concerned?!" Twilight fumed. "Why would I be concerned for you?!"

Ician looked surprised. Even the vulture gave an avian equivalent of a raised eyebrow. "Why not?"

"Because you're manipulating your way into a position of power, that's why!"

"But Princess Twilight," He said, puzzled, "I don't see what's wrong with that."

"So you admit it!" She accused.

"I do." He replied. "But I'm doing it for the good of Equestria."

"Typical excuse." She narrowed her eyes at him.

"Imagine how inefficient the Imperial and Republic armies will be if there's a commander with a specific national affiliation in charge. It'll be chaos - insubordination left and right."

"Well... maybe," she conceded, "but that doesn't change the fact that you're manouevring yourself into power."

"If I'm not in power, how am I going to make sure whoever does have the power uses it responsibly?"

"Who's to say that you will?" Twilight snapped.

"Because I've spent half of my entire life fighting powerful corrupt individuals..."

"He who fights monsters often becomes one to defeat them." Twilight reminded him.

"... Also known as Imperial nobility." He added. "Also, I suppose it's worth noting that it's difficult to fight that kind of corruption as it is. Corrupting yourself only puts you on the wrong side of the law."

"Wait, so you're an Imperial? So much for impartiality!"

"I've spent an appreciable amount of time in the Republic, too, so I think that's hardly a fair analysis."

"But..." Twilight trailed off. She'd run out of things to say. Improvisation never was her strong suit.

"How about this, Princess." He offered. "You'll have the authority to remove me from my position at any time, as does Princess Cadance. Just give me a chance to prove myself, and if the results are unsatisfactory you can replace me."

"... Alright." Twilight eyed him suspiciously, traces of doubt still clouding her mind. "But I must be able to fire you anytime I want."

"Absolutely." Ician agreed. "If somepony was righteous as you, Princess, deems me unworthy, there is clearly some soul-searching to be done."

Twilight recognized flattery when she heard it. I wonder what he's planning...

"Any other questions?" Ician asked. Everypony stayed silent. "Excellent. That concludes today's meeting. We'll be meeting again tomorrow morning at five a.m. outside the base. I'll give a wake-up call at half past four. Our proximity to Canterlot makes us an easy target, so try to be ready for action at all times. Dismissed."

Twilight made for the door, followed closely by the rest of her team. It was almost undetectable, but it seemed that an air of subservience had taken over the minds of RED Team. Nopony dared to speak.

"Oh, and before you all leave," Ician added, "I would like to ask that you please refrain from fighting each other - at least until we defeat the changelings."

"Of course." Twilight said.

"We won't." The BLU Pyro promised.

"Right then, goodbye." With a dramatic sweep of his cloak, Ician marched backstage. Trixie, however, hurried over to Twilight.

"Twilight!" She exclaimed. The rest of RED Team shrunk back slightly. "How was Trixie's performance, hm? Fantastic?"

"I really hate to feed your ego, Trixie, but I have to admit that it was impressive." Twilight patted her shoulder. "How did you get so good at this?"

"Trixie has been studying in her spare time." She replied haughtily. "And she also read one of your books."

"Which one?"

"The one by Bulk Biceps. Explosition."

"Oh. Of course. 'If there's drama and action in it, nopony will forget.'"

"Anyway, Trixie must congratulate you on your elevated status, Princess." She said. "Trixie assumes that you will be moving out of her trailer?"

"What?" Twilight gave her a perplexed look. "What gave you that idea?"

Trixie was taken aback. "But you're royalty now, Twilight. You don't need to live in such a ridiculously uncomfortable home as the one Trixie has."

"But it's the only home I know." Twilight pointed out. "Besides, I'd rather stay in that trailer with a friend than in a palace, alone."

Trixie was apparently shocked into silence. A little tear leaked out the side of her eye, and a second later she enveloped Twilight in a bear hug.

"Ack! Trixie, not so tight!"

"Sorry, it's just that... I thought you'd leave for sure."

"I'd never leave a friend, Trixie." Twilight looked her in the eye. "Especially not a friend so in need of company."

"I... thank you, Twilight Sparkle."

Behind them, Rainbow smiled. The subservient air dropped away like a brick. "Glad to see princesshood hasn't changed you, Twilight."

"Actually, Rainbow, technically speaking 'princesshood' is not an accurate term. Rather, a more fitting term to use in this instance is 'becoming a princess', as in 'Glad to see becoming a princess hasn't changed you."

"Yep." Rainbow laughed. "Same old Twilight."

With the flick of a switch, the backstage was bathed in the harsh glow of the Administrator's fluorescent lights. Ician squinted, temporarily disoriented. He sighed and trotted forward half-blindly.

"You broke the news to them quite bluntly, didn't you?"

"Which news?"

"The death of the Princesses. Twilight took it pretty hard."

"There are many ways to motivate somepony, Faye. Revenge is a very good one."

"Still, you should have taken her feelings into account."

"I suppose I should. I'll try to be more sensitive next time."

"Not to mention that you told an awful lot of lies back there."

"Yes, I did. But I had to."

"That's what you say all the time." She paused briefly. "But what were you thinking, allowing Twilight to replace you whenever you want?"

"She is the Princess, so she would have had the authority either way." Ician pointed out. "Besides, I'm confident in my abilities. One way or another, I'm going to win this war."

"I thought Twilight was afraid that you'd be corrupted."

"But both you and I know that I'm not."

"Yet."

"Is that supposed to mean something?"

"Power corrupts, Ician."

"With the proper checks and balances in place, I'll never get out of hoof."

"But how many of those checks and balances are you going to have to subvert to do what needs to be done?"

"Not enough to corrupt me, that for certain. The odds of that ever happening are abysmally low."

For a short time, Faye fell silent. "... Those odds are going to betray you one day."

"One day." Ician agreed. "And when that day comes, I'll be ready and waiting."

Screwball hesitated. Her hoof, mere millimeters away from the door, sank slowly to the floor. She lifted it only to lower it again.

"Come in." A voice said from behind the door. "Don't worry, it's not booby-trapped this time."

Sucking in her breath, Screwball pushed the door open and stepped in. She braced herself for the inevitable.

Any moment now...

Nothing happened. She breathed a sigh of relief.

"So," the Administrator asked, his eyes fixed on the row of computer screens that were the only source of light in his darkened room, "how did the briefing go?"

"It was okay." Screwball replied.

"Should I ask for more details?"

"Well, he-"

"Actually, no, not really." The Administrator grinned. "I've been watching him the entire time."

Screwball frowned. "But I thought you told Ician you wouldn't be spying on the briefing."

"I didn't believe myself for a second. I bet he didn't either."

"But... the things he said-"

"I expect that it was only to reassure our new Princess that he was on her side." The Administrator mused. "Still, we warrants some watching. I can't treat him as if he's on my side if I don't know what his motives are."

"What could they be?" Screwball asked.

"Power-grabbing, perhaps. But he doesn't seem like that kind of pony."

"Um... what about winning the war?"

"Oh, that's certainly on his agenda. Master Mind has won against worse odds, and if Ician is anything like him then he'll make sure that the changelings are completely crushed by the end of the year."

Screwball flinched. "The end of the year? Isn't that a tall order?"

"It all depends on how capable he is. And with that hoof of his I have no doubts that he is hyper-competent."

"His hoof?"

"The genetic disease. He's probably a descendant of Master Mind."

"Master Mind?" Screwball was puzzled. "He had foals?"

"I won't dismiss the possibility. He and Quence had a lot of... ahem... 'alone time'."

"Don't want to hear about it." Screwball said. "But how likely is it that Ician is descended from Master Mind?"

"Very, very likely." The Administrator steepled his fingers in deep thought. "The only question is whether he will live up to his ancestor's name."

"Do you think he will?"

He stared quietly at the computer screens. "... Yes."

Tomorrow

The Administrator's Base, 4:29:12 AM

The morning air was still. The moon hung high in the sky, casting an unnaturally harsh light through the sole window of RED Team's dormitory. Two double-decker beds - and an uncomfortably tall triple-decker - were arrayed in a line just beyond the reach of the moonlight. The last double-decker was positioned just nicely such that both occupants suffered from the glare.

Twilight groaned inaudibly and rolled over. I get the feeling the Administrator did this to us on purpose.

"Hey Twilight." It was soft, but she just managed to make out Rainbow's voice.

"Yeah?" She whispered back.

"Did you get any sleep?"

"Maybe..." She stifled a yawn. "... Maybe an hour."

"Lucky. I got half."

A brief silence settled between the two.

"Hey, Twi."

"Yes, Rainbow?"

"What time is it now?"

"Ah..." Twilight glanced around, looking for a clock. She found one at the far end of the dorm. It was located most inconveniently above the window, just out of the light. "I think it's... it's..."

All of a sudden, the door flew open with a bang. "Pony up, mercenaries! It's half past four in the morning!"

"... Half past four." She finished lamely.

Ician stood in the doorway, his stern gaze sweeping across the room. "I did say I would be giving a wake-up call at four-thirty, didn't I? Why are you all still asleep?"

"I thought," Twilight groaned as she rolled out of bed, "that wake-up calls were for waking ponies up."

"Everypony knows that when the commanding officer gives a time for an event, he means you should be ten minutes early."

"Gosh," Twilight snapped sarcastically, "I guess we aren't part of 'everypony' then."

"Evidently, you aren't." Ician replied with a smile. "Come on, the changelings are going to attack any time now."

"What?!" Twilight shot upright. "Any time?!"

"Well," he began dryly, "if you're looking out of the window you'll see a gathering cloud of black over Canterlot Mountain."

"Huh?" She spared the window a brief glance. "Oh... We need to get moving."

"Woah!" Rainbow's eyes, fixed on the rapidly growing cloud, widened. "That's a lot of them!"

"At least a thousand. So get ready. And fast." Ician said. "We move out now."

"But we just woke up!" Applejack, from her position at the furthest bunk, protested.

"So did I. But that didn't stop me from rushing over here and waking you up."

"Come on, team." Twilight grumbled. "Let's go get ready."

Any hint of protest vanished. Various mutterings of "Okay, Twilight" followed.

"Excellent." Ician rapped his right hoof impatiently on the floor. "Please get going quickly. I need to give a short briefing before we fight."

"But you already briefed us yesterday." Twilight said.

"Ah... there's something new. The Administrator's orders."

She sighed. "It's bad news, isn't it?"

"I'm afraid so." Ician gave her a conciliatory smile. "My apologies."

"No, it's not your fault." Twilight fixed him with a stare. "But don't forget what I said about him manipulating you."

"If he were trying to manipulate me he'd make it seem like the bad news is completely my fault, so I think I'm in the clear for now."

"He can be quite devious." She warned. "Don't let your guard down."

"Again, don't worry about me." Ician said. "But really, your team needs to hurry up. Last I checked BLU was almost ready."

"Almost ready? But... it's still twenty minutes early!"

"Yes, but they understand army code. They got up at fifteen minutes past four."

"Oh ponyfeathers... Let's go, RED! We can't let BLU team beat us!"

"Beat you at what?" Ician asked with feigned innocence. "Is there a competition?"

Twilight huffed. "Don't you have to get ready too?"

"Strictly speaking, I'm already prepared. But..." He examined his cloak. "Perhaps I should change into my armour."

"Extra insurance is always good." Twilight said.

"Yes, yes." He murmured. "See you all later." He swept around dramatically - He has a love of drama, I see. Twilight observed - and strode away.

"Goodbye." She called after him. "And don't forget to shut the door. We're changing here."

"You don't normally wear clothes."

"Close it anyway!"

"Fine." The door slid shut with a gentle click.

Twilight exhaled. "Okay, he's gone. Anything anypony wants to say?"

"I don't like him." Rainbow grumbled.

"I can't say that much myself... but I don't trust him, at least."

"You know, darling, you could always remove him." Rarity offered.

"I could... but he seems smart. And that leg... I have my suspicions."

"About what?" Applejack asked.

"He might be a descendant of Master Mind."

"Master... who now?"

"History lesson, Applejack." Twilight reminded her.

"Did ya think I was listening in class?"

"The genius tactician? Remember?"

"I think the rest of us understand." Rarity interjected.

"Well... you know why I'm suspicious. It's his leg."

"Master Mind's leg?"

"And Ician's. They both suffer from the same genetic disease."

"... Ah, I see what you mean."

"So you're saying that Ician's some kind of super-commander?" Rainbow cocked her head. "I dunno... what are the odds?"

"Well, he even has the bird on his shoulder. Granted, Master Mind's was a phoenix, and Ician's is a vulture, but still... the similarities are there."

"The passing of genetics, one can expect." Zecora began. "But passing of avians? Quite incorrect."

"No, it's more like Ician is trying to emulate Mind." Twilight mused. "Perhaps he aspires to be like his ancestor of old?"

"Let's hope it's not the genocidal part." Rarity muttered.

"Uh, ah hate to interrupt," Applejack said reluctantly, "but we got less than ten minutes left."

"We do?" Twilight looked at the clock. "That's not good. Are we ready yet?"

"Uh..." A catastrophic crash caught her attention. "Ow, my head... and hooves... and body..."

"Rainbow?"

"Um... just a minute."

Twilight facehooved. "Ugh."

It was cold and dark outside. Not totally dark and unbearably cold, but cold and dark nonetheless.

Pinkie hated it. It didn't suit her. She liked the warmth and light of a fire, the kind that brought her comfort, serenity... and security, for the flames would light her path and keep her eternal RED nemeses at bay.

The fire would kill them before they got to her. And that made her feel safe. But for now, the peace it promised had been denied.

"Pleeeeease?" Pinkie pleaded. She didn't care that the rest of her teammates - and Ician's vulture, too - were staring at her with eyes one would use for a three-year-old foal.

"Sorry, Pinkie, but you already know my answer." Ician shook his head, hard as it was to do with his movement-restrictive armour, in a mixture of sadness and disbelief. "It's too risky to light a fire - we don't want to let Chrysalis know that you mercenaries are here."

"But... I'm cold."

"Don't worry, you'll get your fire soon. In the meantime you've just got to tough it out."

"Okay..." She pouted.

Pinkie! Diana scolded. You're supposed to be better than that. You're the Pyro, for Luna's sake!

For once, I agree with her. Pinkamena growled. You can't just show weakness like that! We are - or at least I am - the apex predator!

"It's just complaining." Pinkie argued under her breath.

Not just complaining, Pinkie. Diana explained. You're complaining to Ician.

"So?"

We can't reveal any information to him. He's the enemy.

"But isn't he on our side?"

For now. But his aims aren't the same as the Administrator's - and that means we can't trust him.

"Oh..."

And for goodness sake, if you're cold then wear your mask. Pinkamena told her.

"It's uncomfortable." Pinkie groused.

You're used to it by now. No excuses.

"And... I don't like what it turns me into."

How could you not like me? Pinkamena sneered internally. Everypony loves me.

Quiet. Diana ordered. Ician's talking.

"Pinkie? Pinkie, are you okay?"

"Huh?" She felt as if she'd just emerged from a dream. "What?"

"You've been staring into blank space for a full minute." Ician examined her carefully. "Is something wrong?"

"Ah... no, just thinking." Don't ask what it was about, don't ask what it was about...

"Thinking? About what?"

Damnit. "Uh... the... battle soon. Yeah."

"Oh." Ician gazed at the growing black cloud in the distance, deep in thought. "Yes, the outcome is... unclear. I'm not certain of the extent of their commander's competence. The most I can hope for is that she's as brash, overconfident, and unconcerned with the welfare of the troops under her command as I've been led to believe."

"I don't care how tired you are, officer! You're going to move faster, and now! I have a battle to win!"

"However, until I can confirm it myself, it's just wishful thinking." Ician concluded. "I have to labour under the assumption that I'm dealing with a master strategist."

"But... if she does turns out to be that good, can we win?"

"If she's on my level? Obviously not." Ician said cheerfully. "But I haven't yet met anypony who could match me in a fair battle."

Pinkie eyed the cloud. "What about an unfair one?"

"That depends." He admitted. "But I think we can win this."

"Uh, Pinkie?" Fluttershy's soft voice muttered, "I hate to interrupt, but, uh, RED Team's here."

"We are." The RED Sniper announced with a hint of contempt. She glared at Pinkie. Pinkie glared back.

Then the RED Scout, following dutifully behind the Sniper, shot her a dirty look. Pinkie's resistance crumbled to dust. It was all she could do to return it half-heartedly. Her feelings refused to lend their support to the expression.

You know what you have to do. Diana warned. Don't let your emotions get in the way.

"I know." Pinkie sighed. With all the hate she could muster, she took a deep breath and prepared herself. When they opened again, she gave the Scout a look of such venom that she recoiled in shock. It left a bad taste in Pinkie's mouth.

"Now that we're all comfortable with each other," Ician smiled with faux pleasantness, "let's begin the briefing, shall we?"

"Do let's." The Sniper said in an impossible mix of deadpan and frost, with a slight sprinkle of sarcasm on the top.

"We're ready." Pinkie added.

"In that case, would you like to hear the good news or the bad news first?"

"Uh..." Pinkie exchanged looks with the Sniper. "... the good news?"

"Ah... there's no good news, sorry."

"Oh." The Sniper shook her head. "Of course. Then what's the bad news?"

"Well..." Ician paused, then continued, "the Administrator has initiated a team scramble."

"A... team scramble?" Pinkie asked.

"He abolished the team system." Ician explained, eliciting gasps of horror from his audience. "And you will all be reallocated to the newly created Squads A and B."

The colour drained from Pinkie's face. "No more BLU Team?"

"And no more RED?" The Sniper's face had turned a similar ashen hue.

"Correct. But the allocation is random, meaning that some REDs..." He glanced meaningfully at the Sniper. "... will have to share squads with some BLUs." And then he fixed his eyes on Pinkie.

"No..." She despaired.

Ician spared her a sympathetic shrug. "These are the arrangements, I'm afraid. Squad A will have the BLU Scout, Demomare, Engineer, Sniper and Spy, along with the RED Soldier, Pyro, Heavy and Medic. The rest of you are in Squad B."

Pinkie's heart settled into its new home at the base of her stomach. A turbulent storm of anger, misery and frustration battered the worn walls of her mind.

Treachery! Diana hissed. Squad B has all the mercenaries I interviewed! The Administrator is up to something, but what?

"And why didn't he tell me?" Pinkie whispered.

The Sniper stared at her balefully and bit out, "Squadmates with her?"

The Scout grimaced. "Just great."

Pinkie snapped back without thinking. "I'm not any happier about this than you are, okay?" She regretted it an instant later. The Scout scowled at her and turned away.

"Operationally," Ician continued as if nothing had happened, "you will all report to me. I have several remote communication devices that I will distribute to you in due course."

Pinkie stared at him blankly.

"I'm going to give you all walkie-talkies."

"... Oh."

"I'll issue orders occasionally, but otherwise just fight like you always do, with one exception." Ician gestured at the growing cloud. "I know that your tactics are usually fluid, but I'm afraid that I'm going to need you to hold your position up front."

"That's impossible." The Sniper protested. "Even with respawn points, we'll be overrun with time."

"There's no doubt about that." He agreed. "You will have to fall back. But only when I tell you to."

"What's your plan?"

"That's... ah..." Ician cast his suspicious gaze upon the monolithic, shadowed structure that was the Administrator's base. "... confidential."

"From whom?" The Sniper challenged.

"From the Administrator." He replied, and stared purposefully at a spot on the wall.

He's looking at one of the pinhole cameras. Diana noted. How does he know that it's there?

"I don't know." Pinkie whispered. Ician's vulture turned to her, and for a moment she was afraid that she'd spoken too loudly. But the bird merely fixed her with a steely glare. "... Although, I'm beginning to get an idea."

So am I.

"Alright, I think I've said enough for now." Ician nodded dismissively. "It's time I show you the highlight of this briefing. Come, follow me." And with that, he trotted off.

"Trail him." The Sniper murmured thoughtfully. Her ex-teammates fell into step behind her.

"After him." Pinkie ordered. A brief moment later, she noticed its predatory undertones and hurriedly amended, "Uh, I mean, don't let him out of your sights." She stopped herself before she could be misunderstood any further. "Just follow him."

A short journey was all it took. Ician led them to a small wooden shed at the edge of the Administrator's base. He stopped at a discoloured panel, which Twilight assumed was the door, and carefully examined the outline.

"What are you looking for?" The BLU Pyro asked.

"The button." Ician hovered at a little indentation on the wall and smiled. "Ah, here we go."

With an almighty groan and an ear-piercing screech, the panel slid open, scraping across the floor. Having spent a fair bit of time in the dark, the light from within blinded Twilight momentarily.

She blinked once; twice; and then her eyes readjusted. With a gasp, her jaw dropped.

"It... looks bigger on the inside." She managed.

"Yes." Ician's eyes sparkled. "Yes, it does."

"How?"

"Illusion magic and well-placed lighting." The floor space inside was easily triple that of what it seemed from the outside. The wooden planks of the exterior had been replaced by rows upon rows of cast iron tiles on the walls, the ceiling, and the floor. A rectangular hole in the wall opened up into a little counter and a workspace behind it, with assorted tools and newspaper articles strewn across the floor. A large bank of computers, each with its own display of the soon-to-be battlefield, occupied a large portion of the floor.

Twilight stepped forward, and the rest of the old RED Team followed suit. She could almost hear Applejack wincing as her hoof chafed against the floor. Shaking her head in displeasure, she asked, "What is this place?"

"My headquarters." Ician pointed to the workspace. "I'll be in there, and so will Trixie once she decides she's gotten enough beauty sleep."

"What?!" Rainbow flared up. "We have to wake up at four-thirty and Trixie gets to sleep in?!"

"Hush, Rainbow." Twilight ordered. "I'm sure she has her reasons."

"I hope she does, because she certainly hasn't told me." Ician frowned briefly. "But she'll be here before the battle begins, I guarantee it."

"She'd better be." Rainbow growled.

"Anyway, whenever you accumulate enough exoskeletons, send your Scouts to bring them here and I'll take care of the upgrades."

"Actually..." Twilight began. "I was wondering: What kinds of upgrades do you have anyway?"

"I'm glad you asked." He nodded in approval. "They come in two kinds, armour upgrades and weapon upgrades."

"What do they do?"

"Armour gives you damage resistance, extra speed, innate self-healing abilities, and... higher jumps, should you ever want that."

"Sounds good. What about weapon upgrades?"

"Ah, those are more complex." Ician straightened his posture. Twilight recognized it as the poise of a lecturer. "My weapon upgrades make use of a multitude of spells, including localized space-distortion and time-manipulation magic which will, on the whole, improve the efficiency of ammunition storage, dramatically and immediately increasing the average damage output of your various weapons, reduce the hassle of constant reloading inherent on every battlefield, and overall cause a net improvement in the quality of your weapons."

There was a brief silence.

"What?" The BLU Pyro asked.

Ician paused and considered what to say next. "Your weapons can hold more ammo, you can shoot and reload faster, and some special effects can be boosted."

"What kind of special effects?" Twilight asked.

"Well, airblasts can be strengthened, for one."

"Anything else?"

"The blast radius of rockets can be increased, minigun bullets can be tweaked to destroy incoming explosives in mid-air, the potency of mediguns can be increased, arrows can inflict additional wounds, and successful headshots with the sniper rifle can be empowered to cause damage in an area of effect."

"Wait, hold on." Twilight had almost missed what he said. "'Damage in an area of effect'?"

"When the bullet comes into contact with cranial fluid, it triggers a small explosion." Ician explained. "Also, make sure everypony keeps out of the way of the explosion. Friendly fire is... a real danger."

"But there's no such thing as friendly fire." She pointed out.

"Good point." He mused. "BLU mercenaries can't be considered your friends, can they?"

"Oh... Now I understand." Twilight glared at the BLU Pyro. "I understand completely."

She glared back, with a little bit of extra acid in her eyes. Twilight shook her head, exasperated, and turned her attention to Ician. "But can I continue using my Huntsman?"

He shrugged. "You can, but I wouldn't advise it. The area-of-effect explosion is a rifle barrel upgrade, not an ammunition upgrade, so the Huntsman wouldn't be as potent."

"Oh..." She furrowed her brow, considering her options. "Well, I've just been using the Huntsman for practice, but..." Removing the bow from her back, she hugged it close to her chest. "I've gotten a little attached to it."

"So you won't be switching to a rifle?" Ician asked.

"Of course I'll be switching." Twilight raised her eyebrow indignantly. "I can't let emotions get in the way of practicality."

He smiled widely. "My thoughts exactly."

"I should probably go and get the rifle now, so..."

"There's no need for that." Ician nodded to his vulture, who flew into the workspace with a hurried hiss. "The Hitmare's Heatmaker, correct?"

The unnervingly accurate predictions no longer surprised Twilight. "You even know the name of my Sniper rifle?"

"Of course I do." He turned to the counter. "Under the desk." The vulture reappeared, clutching the rifle between its talons. "Give it to her, please, Faye."

"Thank you... Faye." Twilight's horn glowed, and a lavender aura levitated the weapon over to her waiting hooves. "And you too, Ician."

"You're welcome." The vulture settled back down onto his shoulder. He turned to the BLU Sniper. "I assume you won't have any problems?"

"No, I'm used to the rifle already. And I brought my sniper rifle with me in anticipation of the hordes we'll have to fight."

"Excellent." Ician smiled. "Anypony else want to change their weapons?"

Silence.

"Very well, then." Ician moved over to the counter. "It's time to give out the remote communi- I mean, the walkie-talkies." He reached his hoof into the workspace and nodded at Twilight. "If I may request your help?"

"Sure." She stepped forward as Ician swept a collection of circular devices onto the table. Her eyes closed, concentrating her immense arcane might into her horn, and with a unsatisfyingly anticlimactic poof every device disappeared into thin air.

Each of them reappeared, one by one, beside the mercenaries, dropping to the floor with a light clink. The BLU Pyro's device flew at her with the speed of an arrow, but she deftly caught it in the hardened sole of her hoof.

Ician frowned. "Twilight, really, I would have thought you more mature than that."

"Sorry, a little magic overload there." She grinned maliciously at the Pyro. "It won't happen again."

"You two are on the same team now." He reminded them, an unexpected edge in his voice. "You share the same objective. Twilight, you said just a minute ago that you couldn't let emotions get in the way of practicality. Don't tell me you can't put past grudges behind you for the sake of Equestria."

Twilight opened her mouth, prepared to snap back at him, and then it hit her. He was right.

I've been behaving so immaturely. She realized. And when she turned to the side, the Pyro's angry scowl met her gaze. I know what I have to do.

"Pyro- No, Pinkie..." Twilight stepped forward and offered her hoof to her. "I'm sorry for what I did. It was childish of me. Can we start over?"

She eyed the proffered hoof critically. "I can't do that so easily."

"Pinkie Pie. BLU Pyro." Ician snapped. "Listen to me, and listen closely."

"What?"

He took a deep breath. "'When you have a friend, you'll be happy for a while. Maybe you'll even have the time of your life. But when their job is to hurt you as badly as they can, eventually they'll hurt you more than you can take.'"

Pinkie froze. "How did you... I... we..."

"Their jobs aren't to hurt you any more, Pinkie. Their jobs are to watch your back. And you, in turn, are to watch theirs." His tone softened. "You can make friends again. Relish the joy."

Deep in thought, Pinkie gazed, slack-jawed, at Ician. Slowly, she turned her gaze to Twilight, and finally her outstretched hoof.

Seconds ticked by. It seemed like an eternity.

At last, her leg rose, bit by bit, like a lead weight, towards Twilight's. And with a motion so quick that it surprised even Rainbow, she clasped it and shook it heartily. "Fine. We'll start over... Twilight."

Twilight released the breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding. "Thank you."

"And... I'm sorry for what I did too." Pinkie confessed. "To you, and the Medic, and Engin... Applejack, and Rarity, and... Rainbow..." She gulped. "I'm sorry. Can you all forgive me?"

"I will." Twilight volunteered quickly. They should get the hint, I hope...

"But, Twilight..." Rainbow protested.

"That's Princess Twilight to you." She said cuttingly.

At last, she caught her drift. "Yes, Pinkie." She muttered through gritted teeth. "I forgive you."

"As do I." Rarity inclined her head respectfully.

"If Twi says ya'll are okay, ah'll have to trust her."

"I, um... alright."

"Thank you." Pinkie smiled gratefully.

"Our pleasure." Twilight returned the smile, softening her set of her jaw. "And we- I mean, RED Team- are also sorry to all of you on BLU. For all the things we've done to you over the years..."

"Not more than we've done." Pinkie persisted. "We can just put it behind us."

"But, Pinkie-" The BLU Heavy began.

"Yes, Big Mac?"

"Ah... uh..."

"Yes?" Her voice was heavy with implied threats.

He swallowed. "Ah... never mind, it was nothing."

"Then everything's forgiven." Pinkie laughed good-naturedly.

"Likewise." Twilight nodded.

Slowly, she became dimly aware of somepony clopping their hooves on the floor. "Bravo."

"What... Ician?"

"Well done, Twilight, well done." Ician wore a massive grin, the likes of which Twilight had never seen before. It stretched from ear to ear. A sparkle of glee danced in his eyes. "I thought you capable of forgiveness, but this... this is on a whole new level."

"What do you mean?"

"I didn't expect you to let everything go so quickly." He said. "And to lead your team in the absolution of Pinkie's guilt... truly magnanimous."

"Oh..." Twilight was taken aback. "Ah... thank you."

"And you too, Pinkie." Ician nodded. "I knew you would welcome Twilight's apology, but never in a million years would I have anticipated you to make amends for your past misdeeds so quickly..."

Pinkie said nothing. She just smiled gently.

"Perhaps..." He murmured. "... No, it can't be. You are just exceptions, that's all. But exemplary exceptions nonetheless."

"Exceptions?" Twilight asked. "Exceptions from what?"

"From a world of selfishness and greed." Ician answered simply. "A very refreshing exception, if I do say so myself."

"A world of..." She frowned. "Ician, I don't think everypony is as bad as you make them out to be."

"When you've spent enough time in battle and the royal court, you learn that they are often worse." He chuckled. "But enough of that. It's time for me to wrap up this briefing... before we're up to our necks in changelings."

Pinkie's smile disappeared. With a dramatic whoosh of air, her mane and tail deflated, leaving straightened strands of hair cascading down her cheeks. Her eyes hardened imperceptibly and a thin frown manifested itself on her face.

When she spoke up, her cheer had all but gone from her voice. "Do we know how many of them there are?"

"About two thousand, it seems..." Ician narrowed his eyes. "... Diana."

"There are only eighteen of us. What strategy do you have in mind?"

"You're to... no, I shouldn't tell you yet."

"Oh?" Diana raised her eyebrow. "Why not?"

"A few reasons. One, if you're captured before the battle ends, I don't want you to give away the information that could compromise this operation."

"Assuming, of course, that we will be captured." She snorted. "And really, we've been doing our jobs as mercenaries for years. We're tougher than you're making us out to be."

"And you're underestimating the persuasiveness of the torture they can inflict upon you." Ician countered. "But more than that, if you knew what I was planning, I wouldn't be able to see what you thought I was planning."

"... What?"

"Call it a talent development exercise, if you must." He turned to Twilight. "I want you all to try and guess what I have in mind. Formulate theories, produce hypotheses, anything. I want to see how you think, why you think that way, and how you can improve."

"Why?" Diana asked. "Why are you doing that?"

"So," Ician explained patiently, "if I'm ever unavailable for whatever reason - ill, injured, dead, the like - there'll be another eighteen ponies... and dragons and zebras... ready to take up the mantle of the commander of the United Equestrian Army." Taking a deep breath, he continued, "Speaking of a United Equestria; Twilight, the diplomatic meeting between the Empire and the Republic is scheduled for the day after tomorrow. We need to get all the conditions set and approved - military cooperation, pooling of resources, and all that. I'm trusting you to help me with it."

"Of course..." She trailed off. "Hey, wait! Help you? When was I ever on your side?"

"Never. I am on your side." The corners of his mouth curved upwards in a smile. "... Princess."

"Then... why did you say..."

"I meant that you would help me to bring the plan for Equestrian unity to fruition. It has nothing to do with personal gain." His smile grew. "And that's why I want you to try and guess what I have in mind. I want you all to understand the way I think, the way I act, and then you'll eventually realize what my real motives are. And then you'll finally trust me."

"You could just tell us what they are." Twilight remarked drily.

"But then you wouldn't believe me, would you?" Ician challenged. "You'd assume I have some ulterior purpose, some endgame in mind, and then you'll keep your distance from me and wonder what I'm really planning... isn't that right?"

Twilight opened her mouth. She was about to say No when a little part of her whispered that Ician had hit the bulls-eye. She sighed. "Fine, fine. Don't tell us."

"I won't." He grinned triumphantly. "But I assure you, you'll have a lot of time to think about it on the way to the front lines."

"Not for me, I won't." Rainbow said.

"No, no, you too. I had the Administrator cast a gravity spell on the area, so you can't fly."

"What?!" Her mouth hung open. "Why?!"

"Because, if we didn't do that, every last changeling in that horde will be able to fly right over your heads." He said calmly. "I don't suppose you want that?"

"Oh..."

All of a sudden, a realization hit Twilight. "Hold on a second."

"Yes?"

"You said it was just the eighteen of us against the changelings, right?"

"I did. Why?"

"What about the Administrator?"

Ician paused. "Ah, yes, about him... well..."

"Well?"

"He's... currently... indisposed."

"Oh. Is he sick?"

"No, just unwilling to help." He motioned to the computer screens in his workspace. "I didn't manage to get a camera into his room, but from what I gathered during our conversation yesterday he's watching his screens right now, waiting for the battle to begin. With a bag of popcorn in his hands."

Beside him, Diana gritted her teeth. "I'm beginning to get a feel of your motives already."

"Oh, really?" He asked with mock curiosity. "Do tell me, what is it?"

"Badmouthing the Administrator means that your goals... are not in line with his."

Twilight could tell, from the look on her face, that she was expecting some sort of denial. Instead, Ician erupted in uproarious laughter.

"What's so funny?"

"Not... in line with his!" He almost choked. "Oh... that's the understatement of the millennium, Diana."

"W- What?" She stuttered in confusion. "You... agree?"

"Of course I do!" He chortled. "It's true! Not to mention incredibly obvious!"

"Incredibly obvious?" Diana demanded. "What do you mean?"

"Look, he wants to get his paws on the Elements of Harmony. The same Elements that he knows are capable of defeating him."

Twilight was struggling to keep up. "The Elements of Harmony? But... Celestia and Luna have them."

"Why do you think he was playing them against each other?" Ician replied. "You might think that nothing's changed in the thousand years since the mercenaries took over the civil war, but that's only because the Administrator has been blinding you, clouding the big picture."

"The big picture?"

"Let ask you this: Do you know how much property damage both sides have collectively suffered in the past thousand years?"

"How much?"

"Five hundred trillion bits." He donned a smug grin. "And do you know how many lives were lost as part of collateral damage?"

"... How?"

"One hundred and fifty million. Excluding the destruction of Ponyville."

"Oh my Celestia." Twilight gasped.

"He's been wearing both sides down over time, waiting until they were too weak to stop him from seizing the Elements. Then..." He stopped. Frowning, he turned to Diana, who was doubled over in laughter. "What's so funny?"

"Wow, déjà vu!" She laughed even harder.

"I demand that you tell me..." He closed his eyes and breathed in. When he opened them again, his face was expressionless. "Please, enlighten me: what is so funny?"

"No, for a moment there I thought you knew what the Administrator was planning. But it turns out you're just as clueless as the rest of them."

"Clueless?" Ician was shocked. His face contorted in bewilderment. "Me?"

"I think I can recommend your appointment to Supreme Commander of the United Equestrian Army now. I was afraid you were a little too smart... but it seems you're only good at strategy." She snickered. "Actually, I'm not even sure of that last part."

"Impossible. It... It can't be... I can't be wrong."

"Obviously, you can." Diana mocked.

"Wait, no, I see it now." As much as he was trying to cover it up, he was still shaken; Twilight could see that much. "Reverse psychology. I got it right, but you're pretending that it's wrong."

"I tell you what." She jabbed her hoof at Ician's chest. "You say he wants the Elements so badly, right?"

"Yes..."

"And the Republic still has the other three?"

"... Yes..."

"Then you can keep them."

His eyes boggled. "But... he can't possibly allow that!"

"He can. And he just did."

"You just did, not him."

"I know his goals. I know his aims. And I know he'll be fine with letting you have the Elements."

"No..." Ician ground his teeth. His sweat-drenched hair fell into his narrowed eyes. He swept it away in a single violent motion. "This is a trick. A plot. A web of deception!"

"Believe whatever you want. But at the end of the day... I know the truth." She sneered at him. "And you don't."

Ician stood stock-still, breathing heavily as he stared, wide-eyed, at Diana. His legs trembled, his eyes twitched, and even the vulture was now looking at him with apparent concern.

Twilight knew she had to step in. "Ician, the invasion's going to happen any time now."

He didn't take his eyes off of Diana. "So it is."

"We should be going now."

"You should."

Diana smirked at him. "Yes, we should."

Almost imperceptibly, Ician's lips quivered in anger. His vulture planted a calming wing around his neck.

"Is there anything else we should know?" Twilight asked.

He steadied himself and, taking a moment to rearrange his expression, smiled a hollow smile. "... One more thing."

"Go on."

"The Administrator helped me to put up several defensive structures around the place with what we salvaged from BLU's temporary Canterlot base. You could hole yourselves up there for the defence. It has good sniper and sentry spots."

"Oh. Okay, then."

"Now..." He gestured at the door. "Please leave. I do believe that we have a battle to win."

"Right." She waved goodbye. "See you."

"Good luck." He said, but his heart wasn't behind it.

Twilight moved over to the door. It was only then that she realized that she had no idea how to open it.

"It's motion-sensitive from the inside." Ician said absently.

"Thanks." She strode up to it, the rest of the mercenaries following close behind her, and the door opened with all its screeching and noise.

"Twilight... One more thing."

She turned around. "Yes?"

"Don't hold that against Pinkie. It's not her fault."

"How could that not be her fault?"

Ician hesitated. "She's... not herself. I'll explain later. Just don't let this get in the way of your friendship."

"We aren't already friends." Twilight glanced at Diana. "Not quite yet."

"Then, please, make it soon."

"I'll try." With a brief nod of goodbye, She trotted out into the dawn.

As the door scraped shut, Rainbow scurried forward and matched her pace beside Twilight. "Hey... Twilight?"

"Yes, Rainbow?"

"I know I said that I didn't like Ician... well, I still don't like him, but he looked pretty bad in there."

"I... suppose he did."

"And I'm not halfway through figuring out what's going on with Pinkie, but even though she was pretty rude it's not like she really said anything that rude."

"No." Twilight began to ponder. "She didn't. Not really."

"So why was he so upset?"

"Hm..." One phrase came to her mind.

"Impossible. It... It can't be... I can't be wrong."

"I think," she said quietly, "that I'm beginning to get an idea."

With a grunt, Ician slumped down onto the floor. Faye glared at him.

"You handled that badly. Very badly. What's gotten into you?"

"I... didn't expect that." A weary tone pervaded his speech. "Things got out of hoof."

"No doubt about that. Why were you so off back there?"

"I... she insulted my intelligence."

"That's hardly anything."

"But she took it a step further." He whispered. "She proved herself right. And me wrong."

"... What?"

"That act she pulled with the Elements. She just showed me that everything I'd thought was false!"

"I don't see what the problem is. Just pick yourself up and start making a new theory."

"That's just it. Can I still trust myself to be right after I turned out to be so horribly wrong?"

Faye sighed and, with a gentle twitch of her wings, brushed them comfortingly over Ician's armour-coated back. "I know your confidence has been shaken, but the way I see it, we have two options now. One; you pick yourself up, right now, and get back to work. Ignore what happened in the past, accept that you aren't perfect and that you don't have to be, and move on. Or two; you give up and let the Administrator and Chrysalis win."

"Obviously it's the former." Ician said bitterly. "But it's always easier said than done."

"Okay, I understand. You need time to wallow."

"To think." He corrected.

"Right, to think. But you can do that after the battle."

"I know..."

"And, in case you weren't paying attention, you agreed to explain Pinkie's behaviour to Twilight 'later', right?"

"I did... why?"

"You can have a meeting once the battle ends. Talk about Pinkie, and the Administrator, and his spell."

"And even though I'm not certain of his overall plan there are still some things I do know." He nodded thoughtfully. "I can twist that to my advantage."

"Expose the Administrator for the sham he is." Faye agreed. "Besides, you know just how cathartic being in command of the situation can be."

"Both in battle and out." He murmured. "Thanks, Faye. You've been a great help."

"Your victory is mine." She reminded him.

"So it is." He stood up straight, raising his head with determination. "Come on, we have some changelings to defeat."

"One thousand, nine hundred and ninety-eight... one thousand, nine hundred and ninety-nine... two thousand!" The officer at the head of the massive cloud of fully armed changelings called out, fatigued. "They're all here, Commander!"

"Finally!" Protea exclaimed. "Are we ready to leave?"

"We can move out at any time."

"Then go!" She snapped. "We can't afford to lose any more time!"

"At once!" The officer, despite his exhaustion, still managed to pull off a smart salute. "You heard the Commander, troops! Move out!"

The buzzing of four thousand wings heralded the departure of the army. Protea smiled thinly. "At last..."

Fal frowned, his eyes grim. "I really hope you aren't making a mistake here, Protea."

"I'm not. Trust me."

"Whatever you say." He said. "Just remember: if anything goes wrong it's your responsibility, not ours."

"And when everything goes right it's my victory, not yours." Protea retorted. An excited grin was painted across her face. "Now, please try to keep up."

The First Wave

Once upon a time, there was a changeling named Exos. He'd served in the army ever since he was born - that is, for about three weeks. After the first two, the Queen had personally promoted him to an officer. It was the highlight of his existence, and he'd spent the next week boasting to his friends. Now, days later, Commander Protea assigned him to the vanguard unit of the invasion force.

When he heard the news, his entire body was shaking with fear. He knew all too well that the first few soldiers into the fray never came out alive. He'd been in the backup unit for the capture of Canterlot, and while he did see some action, he didn't see much. And the ones who saw the most were dead.

Protea had told the army that it would be an easy battle, that there would be little resistance, that the whole place was nearly deserted, and that only the Administrator and his little assistant were in the base.

But like the rest of the army, Exos had heard the rumour about the twenty scouts that were sent in, and how they were brutally massacred. Protea knew of this, and she'd assured them that the earlier incident was isolated, as they were only twenty. The army had two thousand.

It hadn't escaped him that there were only nineteen other changelings in the vanguard.

After a few hours of traveling, he was one of the first to suffer from a sudden inability to fly. The collapse to the ground had been painful and humiliating, but he suspected, with growing dread, it was only a sampling of what was to come. Protea had said that it wasn't permanent - just a gravity spell set up around the area. The rest of the journey was spent on hoof.

Now, at last, he'd arrived. His mind had hidden itself away in his stomach, convinced that it was a safer place. His heart was palpitating wildly, and trickling beads of sweat flowed freely down his face as he stared up at the battlefield.

Rows of plain wooden buildings lined a clear path, all the way up to a few dozen meters away, where a large, big-windowed building split the road into two. Beyond that, he couldn't see much, but he hoped against all hope that the Administrator's base was at the end of it.

"What's the big idea?" One of his fellow changelings hissed. "I thought the Commander said that there were trees here! Trees, grass, flowers! This is just a dusty town!"

"The Administrator may be more powerful than we thought." He muttered. And he looked, carefully, at the town stretched out before him. Silhouetted against the glow of the rising sun, the west-facing walls of the buildings, having fallen into shadow, were dark. Dark as night, dark as... coal.

He had no idea why he'd thought of that. But the name stuck. Coal... town. Coaltown. It has a certain ring to it.

"Well, officer? Your orders."

His imagination abandoned him. Once again, he was back at the head of the vanguard, staring his imminent doom in the face.

"Ah... yes. Move forward carefully and keep alert for any threats. We have no idea what defenses the Administrator has."

The changeling shifted uncertainly. "With all due respect, officer, I must ask that you-"

pew

Without warning, the changeling collapsed onto the ground, his decapitated head rolling slightly to the side.

Exos snapped around. "Sniper! Find her, and now!"

"As ordered." A multitude of green flashes lit the shadows briefly. Seconds later, eighteen Scouts rushed out onto the battlefield, ducking and weaving and generally doing everything they could to make the Sniper's life miserable.

Twilight, hidden strategically in the darkness of the central building, alone, cursed under her breath. Tracking her new target - the one who had obviously designated himself as the commander - she fired again, only to miss as he ducked behind one of the buildings. She cursed again.

"Hey! Twilight, what gives?" Rainbow's voice sounded crackly and artificial through the walkie-talkie. It was somewhat unnerving; as if somepony was trying to make a poor imitation of her. "Why didn't you kill their main guy?"

"I didn't know he was the leader." She grunted in reply. "He looked so... distracted."

"Nothing we can do about it now." Ician announced. His firm tone gave no hint that his earlier breakdown had ever taken place. "Just focus on taking them out. You've got your duty, Squad A's got theirs."

"Right." Twilight was only half-listening. "Hey, Applejack, is your sentry ready?"

"All set up under the stairs, Twi. As soon as they clear that house, they're gonna get it."

"What about your sticky trap, Zecora?"

"It's been laid a little further back, as insurance should we need to switch tack."

"Good to know. I'm still trying to get used to this rifle, so don't expect too much." She took aim at one of the Scouts and fired. The bullet missed her head, embedding itself in her chest. She spat blood and collapsed, but Twilight didn't feel any better.

"Better brush up on those headshots, Twilight." Ician said. "The explosion only triggers upon contact with cranial fluid. I don't want you missing all your shots when we do finally get enough exoskeletons to upgrade your Heatmaker."

"I know, I know." She shot again; this time she only just managed to score a clean decapitation. "But I've been using the Huntsman for so long. It takes a while to readjust."

"Don't worry, we understand completely, darling." Rarity assured her. "Take your time. Haste makes waste, as they say."

Ician cut through the idle chatter. "Rainbow, I want you to get in there and collect all the remains after Applejack's sentry decimates them. You might come under heavy fire if they get reinforcements in, so don't hesitate to use the exoskeletons as shields if it comes down to it."

"Don't you need them in one piece?" Rainbow asked.

"I do, but a few bullet holes or blast markings won't make a difference."

"Whatever you say."

"Heads up." Twilight watched as the Scouts drew closer and closer to the point of no return. "Wait for your cue, Rainbow."

"Gotcha, Twilight."

"Here they are!" Applejack whispered, a hint of excitement creeping into her voice. "Three... two..."

"... one." Twilight finished for her.

beep beep

She whooped. "Yeehaw!"

"Wow, you're really ripping them to shreds." Twilight lowered the Heatmaker and marveled. The mini-rockets tore through the air, driving home on one of the Scout's torsos. She shielded her eyes from the brilliant flash.

"Good work, mercenaries." Ician said proudly. "Go get the shells, Rainbow."

"Five steps ahead of you." She zoomed in, quick as a bullet, snatched up the pieces and rushed back as fast as she could manage. "Got 'em all. I'm bringing them back now."

"Excellent. Upgrade requests, anypony?"

"Explosive headshots, please." Twilight grinned as she peered through her scope. "I'm feeling lucky."

"It's better to feel skilled." Ician retorted. "Rainbow, get back as fast as you can. I'll need a little while to work on it."

"Aye aye, captain."

"Is she gonna be doin' a lot of this runnin' back and forth?" Applejack questioned.

"I should think so." Twilight answered, waiting for the as-of-yet unseen enemies to take their places on the battlefield. "We're going to be killing a few hundred changelings each before the battle is won."

"Then is there anythin' to improve my teleporters?"

"I can augment them to function both ways, if that's what you're asking." Ician said.

"Ah, good. Could ah have one of those?"

"Two-way teleporters, coming right up."

"Hey, Rarity." Twilight began.

"Yes, dear?"

"Where are you?"

"Cloaked behind the furthest house."

"Furthest house from the base, or from the front lines?"

"From the base."

"I see." Twilight allowed the scope to fall away from her eyes, frowning. "Can you see the leader I failed to kill?"

"Yes, he's pacing up and down in front of me."

"Could you help me kill him?"

"I'm afraid she can't." Ician cut in. "I have bigger plans in mind."

That's good to know... sort of. "But if we can take out their commander, it'll save us a lot of trouble."

"He's not their overall commander." He explained. "Is he, Rarity?"

"He's not." She confirmed.

"How do you know?" Twilight asked.

"He's talking to somepony on his walkie-talkie now. And he's addressing whoever it is as 'Commander.'"

"Oh really?" Ician inquired, interested. "What's the conversation about?"

"I can only hear his side, but from what I understand he's informing the commander that we are here."

"So they had no idea that the mercenaries were stationed at the Administrator's to begin with?" The interest was evolving into excitement.

"Apparently not, no."

"Excellent." He chuckled. "That says wonders about their spy network."

"Namely, that it doesn't exist." Twilight said.

"Or that they're grossly incompetent. Either works for me."

"Hold on... there seems to be something more." Rarity interjected.

"What is it?"

"They appear to be... arguing?" Confusion saturated her tone. "Why would they be arguing?"

Ician stayed silent. Twilight could only assume that he was deep in thought.

"Why would they?" She said, trying to push the conversation along.

"Why would they, indeed?" Ician mused out loud. "I believed that most changelings were blindly loyal, but it seems the enemy commander has some resistance to her rule."

Twilight noticed something. "'Her' rule? What makes you so sure that it's a her?"

"I had a little chat with the prisoner yesterday. He told me everything I needed to know."

"We have a prisoner?"

"I knew nothing of it either." Rarity added.

"My apologies, I must have forgotten to mention it. It seemed inconsequential."

"Really, it kinda is." Rainbow's voice came with a distinct echo.

"Ah, you're here." Ician sounded cheerful. "Just drop the exoskeletons off on the counter. I'll take care of it."

"If you say so." Twilight heard the frantic flapping of wings through both Rainbow's and Ician's walkie-talkies, but soon the second sound faded into the background and then disappeared completely.

"She's fast." He observed unnecessarily.

"I am." Rainbow agreed.

"She is." Twilight deadpanned. "And I'm sure we all agree that that's enough superfluousness for today."

"What's superfluousness?"

"We both agree." Ician quickly interrupted. "Now, Rarity, did you hear anything new?"

"Yes. Apparently the bulk of the army is being sent in now."

"Oh... that's bad." Applejack said. "Real bad."

"I wouldn't worry." Ician told them. "There's no conceivable way the enemy commander will try to squeeze in all her troops into this narrow space. She'll space them out a little bit to minimize the losses from rockets, grenades, and sticky traps. You'll have enough time to sweep the floor with them wave by wave."

"Especially when I get my explosive headshots."

"Yes... so long as you get better at aiming within the hour. And when I'm done hammering this into shape..." A grunt and a loud thunk broke Twilight's concentration briefly. "Sorry about that. Let me turn the volume down."

"Please do." Twilight growled.

From the other end, Ician muttered something unintelligible.

"I'm sorry, what was that?"

A slightly louder but still indecipherable murmur came from his side.

"I still can't hear you, sorry."

"I said," Ician nearly shouted, though the realization that he was close to yelling came more from the inflection of his tone than the actual strength of the sound, "be careful! The next wave will be here at any time!"

A deafening explosion shook the ground. Twilight gasped, losing her firm magical grip on her rifle for a moment.

"Um," Fluttershy said in her demure tone, "they're here."

"Eeyup." Big Mac's minigun whirled relentlessly. Streams of bullets lanced out at the encroaching horde.

"I know." Twilight replied. It seemed rather pointless. But at least she'd shown her willingness to speak to the ex-BLU Team members.

"They have rocket launchers, Pinkie." Spike, perched atop the central building, was obviously not as willing. "Soldiers."

"Don't call me that." A shadow behind Applejack's dispenser shifted. Applejack fidgeted uneasily.

"But that's your name." Twilight pointed out.

"Not my name." She growled. "That's the soft one's name. My name is Pinkamena."

"Why are you talking about yourself like this?"

"She is not me. I am me."

"Cut the chatter and focus on the objectives!" Ician ordered.

"I do what I want!"

"If you want to kill, I suggest you start doing it now!" The threatening air was somewhat undermined by the pathetic volume.

"Hmph." With a hop, skip and a jump, she leapt into battle wildly, screaming insults at her soon-to-be victims. It disrupted Twilight's concentration.

"Guh." She fired and missed completely. "This is impossible!"

"Twilight!" Ician shouted. "I think it would be advisable to cancel the reception from Pinkie's end of the walkie-talkie so as to-"

"Do it!" A harsh screech interrupted her. She winced. "And quickly!"

"Done!"

All of a sudden, the noise faded away, gone as quickly as it had come. The sharp sting of the commotion was reduced to a dull roar in the background. Twilight sighed in relief.

"Did it work?"

She fired. The bullet flew straight through the skull of a hapless Soldier. "Yes, it did."

"Good to hear!" Ician exclaimed distractedly. "Rainbow! Are you there?"

"Yeah, I am." Through her scope, Twilight caught sight of the pegasus ducking weaving through the crowd of changeling Soldiers, smashing them with bat and exoskeletons alike. "Why?"

"The upgrades are ready! I need you to come and collect them!"

She immediately reversed direction and sprinted away from the fray, blocking a couple of stray rockets. "Okay, I'll just run over there and-"

"No need! I'll install the teleporter upgrade myself! Just get ready on the other end!"

"Gotcha!" A sniper's tracer bullet, now leaving an evanescent red trail in its wake, decapitated the changeling to her right. Rainbow manoeuvred around the falling body and dashed to the safety of Applejack's sentry. "Damnit, Twilight, be more careful!"

Twilight grinned. "What, not fast enough, Rainbow?"

"I'll show you 'not fast enough'!"

"Rainbow!" Ician snapped. "Onto the teleporter, quickly!"

"I'm there, alright? No need to-"

There was a brief flash of light, accompanied by the teleporter's distinct whirr, and in an instant Rainbow was gone.

"... Whoa."

"What do you mean, whoa?" Ician asked.

"That was... awesome. I've never felt anything like it."

"Intriguing." He mused. Twilight noted, with passing interest, that the telltale echo of two nearby walkie-talkies was absent. Probably because Ician's was still set to an abysmally low volume. "I might have to conduct further research into that in my spare time. But for now..."

"Back to the front." Spike finished for him.

"My thoughts exactly."

"And quickly, please." Twilight added. A brief flare from a firing rocket launcher caught her off guard and she misfired. A muttered curse escaped her lips. "This is becoming too much for us to handle."

"Eeyup."

"Got it." A brief flash behind Applejack's sentry caught Twilight's attention, and it was only with the fastest of reflexes that she caught the violently spinning object Rainbow had hurled at her. She gasped. "Rainbow!"

"Just be grateful." For a fleeting moment, the pegasus smirked at her, and then she was back at the forefront of the raging battle.

Twilight took a moment to pull off another headshot and then lowered the Heatmaker. She stared at the thing Rainbow had thrown at her. It was a sleek, elegant cylinder, the little light there was in the darkened building glinting off of its polished ebony surface. She spotted a hole on one end; peering through it confirmed that it was hollow, and that there was also a hole on the other end. She slid it over the muzzle of her rifle and found that it was a perfect fit.

"Not that I don't appreciate the craftsmanship, Ician, but maybe you could put more effort into functionality?"

"It's as functional as I can make it. The innate illusion magic just alters its appearance. Wait a few minutes and you'll see what it really looks like. In the meantime, of course..." He trailed off meaningfully.

"Right, killing." Twilight brought the rifle back up to eye level and searched for her next target. She found an easy one: A firing changeling Heavy surrounded by his Medics, his eyes locked on Applejack's sentry as they traded blows.

Steady... She took her time, letting the red laser dot settle squarely in the middle of her prey's temple. Steady...

pew

Abruptly, the Heavy's head erupted in a gruesome shower of red, his minigun falling from his grip and clattering onto the ground. Applejack flashed Twilight a smile.

She, however, did not smile back. "Where's the explosion?"

"Wait for it..." Ician said.

KABOOM

In an instant, a huge explosion ripped its way through the remains of the Heavy's skull, breaking free from its constrictive prison and rapidly growing bigger in her scope.

Twilight blinked. "Huh."

"Impressive, isn't it?"

"Very." She muttered. The brilliant-yellow cloud of expanding death enveloped the Medics amid a series of horrified screams.

"Whoa nelly." Applejack's mouth hung open in awe. "That's a lot of firepower ya'll got there."

"It certainly seems so."

"And... that's a wrap." Twilight could almost feel Ician's satisfied grin. "Rarity? Any new developments?"

"Well, it seems that there's another argument."

"What are they saying?"

"They're saying..."

"... that we shouldn't be sending in more Soldiers and Heavies!" Exos shouted into the walkie-talkie.

"And I'm telling you that we will, officer." Protea's voice on the other end was tinged with venom. "Don't question my orders."

He drew in a breath, readied himself, and spoke into the device. "With all due respect, Commander, I must express my opinion that we cannot continue along our current course and expect to make any difference!"

Protea had gone dangerously silent. He gulped.

"... Are you refusing to carry out my orders, officer?" She said, unspoken threats lacing her words.

Beads of sweat poured down Exos' face. No going back now. I have to do this. "... Yes, I am."

"I can have you arrested for insubordination. Do you know that?"

He gulped again. "Full well, Commander."

"Then why do you still oppose me?"

"Because... because it's my duty to tell my superiors when they are wrong."

He regretted that immediately. Protea said, "Are you saying that I am wrong?"

Exos almost backed away with a hasty reassurance of No, of course not, perish the thought Commander, but his inner drive held him back. He steeled himself. "Yes. You are wrong, Commander. Very wrong. We will lose many more lives before the day is done if you do not switch tactics at once."

"How dare you?!" She screamed. Exos flinched back and dropped the walkie-talkie. "If you think you can so blatantly disobey me and get away with it, then you've got another thing coming!"

"Ease up, Protea!" Another voice, presumably Commander Fal's, boomed. "He makes a good point. Only the insane keep doing the same thing over and over again and expect different results."

"Don't you start, Fal!" She snapped. "I have my hooves full dealing with this worthless mook! He's even worse than the one who was guarding the throne room yesterday!"

"He was the one guarding the throne room yesterday." Fal said smoothly. Exos grimaced, his stomach turning to ice. "And, like before, he has pointed out a very logical flaw in your plan - if such an action could even be considered a plan."

Luckily for Exos, Protea was too absorbed in her argument to involve him. "I'm the commander here! I think I know what's best - at least better than you do."

"I dispute that, of course, but that's not the point."

"Then what is?"

"The point is that we've already lost two hundred troops and we haven't taken an inch of ground from them."

"You're quite impatient for results, aren't you?"

"Yes." Fal said. "Because at this rate, by the time we do see results our army size will be in the negative numbers."

"I don't care what you say, Fal. I know what I'm doing. And I'm not wrong."

Exos found his mouth moving before he realized what he was doing. "Actually, Commander, I've been thinking. And really, you're not wrong at all."

"I... what?" Protea's fury abandoned her like air whizzing out of a deflating balloon. Confusion filled the maw. "But you just said I was wrong!"

"No, it was I who was wrong to suggest that. I had assumed that your plan was just to continue this cycle over and over again, but I realized that you must have something much greater in mind."

"But... yes, actually." Fal caught on quickly. "Yes, it is clear that you had something else in mind the entire time."

"Pray tell, what do you think my strategy is?"

"It's obvious." Exos said. "You're going to deceive the mercenaries into thinking that you don't have a strategy in mind..."

"... and then you'll send in Spies when they least expect it and destroy all their defenses in a single blow." Fal finished for him. "Ingenious, really."

Exos knew full well that Protea didn't have that in mind at all. But he realized that, for the sake of saving her face, he had to pretend. And pretend he did. "A truly brilliant plan, Commander. One befitting a tactical genius."

"I..."

"Indeed, officer." Fal approved. "A plan that will most certainly win this battle for the Queen."

Ah. A very clever move. If there's anything the Commander cares about it's pleasing the Queen. "I can't wait to see your strategy in action, Commander."

"Nor can I."

"Well..." The anger was gone. Protea had seen an opening. "... It seems the two of you are smarter than I gave you credit for. You will have the privilege of witnessing my grand design unfold."

"Thank you, Commander."

"And," she added, "make sure you know all the details before acting so insubordinate. Have I made myself clear?"

"Crystal clear." Exos replied habitually.

"Good. Then go and carry out my orders."

"As you wish." Exos reached out a hoof and pulled the nearest changeling to him.

"Yes, officer?" He asked.

Exos smiled. This time, he was in charge. "This is what I need you to do..."

"So that's their strategy?" Ician asked.

"It would appear so, yes." Rarity replied.

"Are you sure your presence hasn't been compromised and they're just putting on an act for you?"

"I doubt it."

"But... I don't want to give you away either." He mused. "Which means we'll have to pretend that we're not expecting it..."

"Wait... you want us to fall for this trap?" Twilight demanded, splitting her attention between the conversation the battlefield. Another headshot sent a Soldier reeling backwards and then exploding in a violent blast of light and heat.

"Yes. Which means that you'll have to stop being so good at headshots for a while."

She ignored his order. One bullet cut straight through the brain of an unlucky Heavy. "Why? What's so important that you need Rarity to stay hidden instead of helping us?"

"A way to end this battle instantly."

"A way to..."

"Yes."

"Wait... don't tell me." A revelation slowly dawned upon Twilight. "You're keeping Rarity behind to..."

Ician didn't wait for her to finish. "Yes."

"But you haven't even heard what I wanted to say."

"I think I already know. And I need to give the others a chance to guess too."

"Rarity," she asked, "what weapon do you have on you?"

"The Your Eternal Reward."

"Not only with the instant kill on a successful backstab, but also instantly disguising as the victim." Twilight pondered. "There's more than one...?"

"Absolutely correct." He affirmed. "I'm proud of you, Twilight."

"Ah... thanks."

"Can't ya give us just a small hint?" Applejack questioned.

"No spoilers." Ician answered quickly. "For now, just concentrate on being backstabbed." He paused. "That didn't sound nearly as strange in my head."

"I've heard stranger words." Twilight said, turning her attention back to the battlefront. "Mostly from Pinkie."

"Who else?" He chuckled. "But I doubt even Pinkie will predict an army of eighteen triumphing over an army of two thousand."

"How," Protea growled, "are we losing this?"

"Don't ask me." Fal replied. "You're the one in charge."

The group of them - Protea, Fal, Espia, Gran, and Shifter - were situated atop the nearest hill, observing the battle raging below. Everything was happening at once; the roar of their immense army, the myriad flashes of igniting gunpowder, the wafting smell of sulfur, and the dull thud of yet another changeling toppling into the dust.

"Well, they do have respawn points." Espia noted.

"How would that matter if none of them have even been killed yet?" Protea snarled. "This makes no sense!"

"They've had the whole of yesterday to prepare, too." Gran said. "Sentry guns, sticky traps, all that."

"Plus," Shifter added, "they've got the home team advantage. Knowledge of the terrain, excellent defensive positions, and advanced weaponry."

"But we have the numbers." Protea scrutinized the front lines intently. "And we still have ninety percent of our changelings intact."

"And if Officer Exos'- sorry, your plan works, we'll push them back a long way. Long enough for us to overwhelm them eventually, given the same pattern."

"But when is there ever a 'same pattern' in battle?" Protea pondered.

"When we outnumber them more than five hundred to one." Fal argued. "We have the upper hoof. We can control the battlefield."

"Commander." A new voice cut through their conversation. Protea turned to her walkie-talkie. "Officer Exos here."

"Yes, officer?" She asked impatiently.

"I just thought you'd like to see your plan coming to fruition."

"Where?"

"Their Sniper's going first. Can you see her from your position?"

Protea looked out. Every so often, an ethereal trail of red would lance out from the shelter of the central building. "Close enough."

"Give it ten seconds, Commander."

Abruptly, Twilight stopped firing. Years of practice and training had honed her senses to a finely sharpened point; she knew when somepony was sneaking up behind her. Out of the corner of her scope, a cloud of green smoke shimmered behind Applejack.

She sighed.

"Twilight?" It was Ician. "Twilight, you've gone silent. Are you alright?"

"... Yes. Everything's going as planned."

He got the message. "Alright. See you later."

She sighed again. With a pounding heart, she put her eye back to the scope.

shlck

"She's gone."

A little bit of pride worked its way to Protea's head. "I knew it would work."

"Of course, Commander." A brief pause. "Reports indicate that the Engineer has been killed as well."

"Excellent. What of her sentry gun?"

"Without her support, it won't last for long." Exos said. "I've already instructed our Demomares to hammer away at it."

"Finally, we're making progress." Fal nodded.

A loud, sudden explosion tore through the air.

"What was that?" Protea demanded.

"Nothing much, Commander. Just the last sticky trap. The path has been cleared."

"Then go." She smiled, satisfied.

"At once." With a click, Exos disconnected himself from the line.

"What now?" Fal asked.

"Now, we wait."

"... For?"

"For victory." She marched forward. "Come, let's go. We need to be closer to the new battlefront anyway."

"Where are you planning to go?"

"Hm..." She gave the town a once-over. "The central building."

"The Sniper's old perch?"

"Yes." Protea grinned. "Her old perch."

"Charge!" Exos roared. "We've done it! We've won! Now it's time to reap the spoils!"

The army surged forward with him. The bright morning sun glinted off unfurled fangs and polished weapons as rank after rank of changelings pushed forth, past the rows of houses, past the central building, and past the still bodies of their fallen brethren.

Time to see what's behind that building. "Forward! Now we will finally gain..." The new battlefield came into view. "... victory?"

Stretched out before him was Coaltown. Same houses, same central building, same dust...

pew

The changeling beside him wordlessly crumpled onto the ground, his head conspicuously missing. Exos looked up, and in the glare of the sun he could just make out a grinning BLU Sniper waving at him.

And the same bodies.

He sighed heavily.

Say Goodbye To Them Now

"Why didn't Trixie get a walkie-talkie?"

"Because you were late."

"But... but..." Trixie slammed her hooves down on the counter. "It was unavoidable!"

"No, it was not." Ician grunted half-heartedly. His attention was fixed on the computer screens. "You could have woken up three hours ago."

"She needed her beauty sleep!" She cried.

"Tough."

"She could have been later!"

"Yes, you could have. At least you got here before Squad A saw any action." His eyes never leaving the screens, he pointed at the tool-covered floor. "Do you remember what to do?"

"Of course Trixie does. She practiced for this!"

"Wow, you actually practiced. How unlikely." He snarked. "Now, get to work."

"How does she even get in?"

"Climb over the counter, obviously. There's no other way."

"You couldn't have installed a door?"

"I have my reasons."

"Uh huh." With an undignified huff, she swung herself into the workspace and landed on the floor. "Ouch."

"Make yourself comfortable... somewhere."

"There's nowhere to sit!"

"Then make some space. Move a few tools around."

"Trixie thought you might have had a reason for keeping them in this exact position."

"Not everything I do has a reason, you know." He jabbed his hoof at Trixie. "Now stop disturbing me, I'm trying to watch."

"Why?" Trixie snapped sarcastically. "Are you trying to make a movie out of it?"

"I'm not watching for entertainment. I'm watching to formulate strategy."

"Oh really?" She glowered. "Then tell Trixie, what strategy have you come up with?"

"The one that will win the game."

"Game?"

"The battle. It's the same thing."

"Is this a game to you?" She snapped.

"Yes." He replied bluntly. "Yes, it is. It's like a game of chess, to be exact."

"Why?"

"Why not? It's all about strategy. Chess, war... they're both games. And in neither is it good to lose."

"So it's all about winning to you."

"Yes." At last, Ician turned away from the screens and stared at Trixie. "I'm a tactician. It's my job to win."

"But... no! It's not just about winning!"

"Oh, come on. Of course it is. You don't go into battle expecting to lose."

"No, it's not only about winning!" Trixie argued.

"It's about winning with the least damage to yourself. That's another reason why I don't like chess." He picked up one of the hammers strewn about the floor and held it in front of Trixie's face. "In chess, you can afford to lose every single piece except the ones you use to execute the final checkmate. Because after every game..." He dropped the hammer. "The board is reset. The pieces return.

"But in war..." With a grand sweep, he retrieved the hammer. It sported a new dent in the side. "... In war, the pieces don't come back. You're stuck with whatever you have left after the last game. And slowly," he released the hammer from his grip again, "you become worse off." He repeated the motion. A crack formed. "You'll eventually be too weak to fight again." He raised his hoof and smashed the hammer onto the floor. It split cleanly in two. "The pressure becomes too much to handle, and you crack. The army cracks. The nation cracks. You can't win war the same way you win chess."

"But the mercenaries respawn." Trixie pointed out.

"I know. And that's why being their commander is like going on a beach holiday." Kicking the broken tool away casually, he returned to his spot at the screens. "Even if I'm grossly outnumbered, I've got the Administrator's magic and respawn points at my hooftips. Not to mention that the changeling commander is pretty incompetent."

"So... you can win this?"

"Yes."

"With no casualties?"

"None that don't respawn."

"Then what are you waiting for?" Trixie demanded. "Win it already!"

"Can you win chess in a single turn?" He retorted. "Patience, Trixie. I will deliver the coup de grâce soon."

"When?"

"Soon." Ician repeated. "But not soon enough that you don't have to get to work right now!"

"There's nothing for Trixie to work with."

"Three... two... one..."

"Hey, Ician!" The BLU Scout burst in through the door. "Oh, and hi, Trixie."

"Got a new batch of exoskeletons?" He asked.

"You bet!" She emptied the contents of her satchel all over the counter. "A lot of 'em, too."

"Like I said, Trixie; to work."

"Aw." Trixie groaned.

"So, this is the place, huh?" Fal stared up at the monolithic central building. The shadows from before had gone, the place now bathed in the harsh rays of the afternoon sun.

"Yes." Protea called from around the corner. "The stairs are here. We'll get a pretty good view of the battle from the roof."

"It'll be hotter, too." He mumbled. "Anyone got some kind of cover?"

"Um..." Espia began. "... No."

"Suck it up." Protea said. "You're a Commander. If the mooks don't complain I don't see why you should."

"For goodness' sake, we're only Commanders because we've lived longer than they have." Fal snapped. "It case you haven't noticed, sunburn resistance doesn't improve with age."

"No, but resilience does." She countered. "Now stop dawdling and follow me. I have a base to capture."

"Whatever you say... Commander." He trotted up the stairs. "Do you see anything from up there?"

He didn't expect the confusion in her voice. "Wait... this can't be right."

"What can't?" He reached the top and stared down. "Oh."

"Didn't we just fight our way past this?" Protea asked.

"I'm pretty sure we did." He turned around for a quick glance. "Yes, yes we did."

"So why is it here?"

"Really, this shouldn't surprise you."

"Why not?"

"Because we're fighting the Administrator."

"Oh." She sighed. "Right."

"So, what are you going to do?"

"I don't know." Protea frowned. "We could be chasing a red herring. But these are the only defenses for miles around. He couldn't be hiding anywhere else."

"There's always illusion magic." He pointed out.

"We are the masters of illusion magic. If there was something hidden around here we'd know."

"I certainly hope you're right." Fal murmured, looking out over the battlefield. "Otherwise, if this is a decoy..."

"It is there." Protea cut him off. "I'm sure of it."

But whether it's your mind or your pride that's telling you that, I don't know. He studied Protea's face carefully. Her eyebrows were furrowed, her jaw raised, and her eyes were blazing with the determination of a starving predator fighting for its meal.

But it wasn't a determination to save the changelings, he knew that. It was a determination to please the Queen. And to what lengths she would go...

"Very sure?" He asked.

She hesitated. For a split second, uncertainty flashed through her eyes. And then it was gone, just as quickly as it had appeared.

"Yes." She announced. "I am sure."

"Then all that's left is to win." Fal replied. He turned back to the fight.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the uncertainty return to Protea's face.

"Ugh..." The world swirled back into focus. Twilight was back in the little respawn box. She sat up.

"Welcome back." Somepony said coldly.

"Huh?" She shook her head and blinked the last few spots away. "Oh. Hello, Pinkie."

"For the last time, I'm not Pinkie!" She thundered. "I'm Pinkamena!"

"Oh my Celestia." Twilight groaned. "This again?"

"Yeah, because you don't seem to get it." She pressed her hoof into Twilight's chest. "You keep calling me by her name. But I'm not her!"

"Look, I don't know what crazy things are going on right now." Twilight snapped. "All I know is that there's a battle we should be getting back to. We can talk this over after the fight's over."

click

"Wait, what's that?" Pinkamena asked.

"Beats me."

"Well that didn't work..." A female voice - Screwball, I think - drifted up from outside. "Hey, who's in there?"

"Me, Twilight!" She shouted. "Me and Pinki-" Her eyes met Pinkamena's. "... I mean, Pinkamena."

"Oh. Could you help me to tempt fate, please?"

"Alright." She cleared her throat. "Gosh, I don't suppose the floor is going to open up right under our-"

click

She grinned. With a grand flourish, her wings shot out from her side, spread in a glorious display of majesty, brilliance, and lack of flying experience.

Wait a-

"Oof!" She hit the floor stomach-first. The collision knocked the wind out of her. She collapsed in a heap. "Ouch..."

Beside her, Pinkamena landed gracefully on all fours and dusted herself off. "Thank you, Screwball."

"No problem." Screwball flashed them a quick smile. "Now come on, Ician wants to talk to the both of you."

"We should be going back to the front lines." Pinkamena snapped.

"Squad A's already holding the line. And Ician is your commanding officer, so..."

She growled and ground out, through clenched teeth, "We'll be there."

"Very soon." Twilight added.

"Alright." Screwball waved and trotted away. "See you later."

Pinkamena snarled. "One day..."

"Let's not waste any time." Twilight led the way, trying to remember which route to take. "Left... I think?"

"Oh, I give up." Pinkamena groaned. "Diana, take over until we get back to the fight, please."

"What?" Twilight asked. Diana?

"I said please! What more do you want?"

Frowning, Twilight turned around. "Pinkamena? Are you alright?"

"I'm not talking to you!" She snapped. And then, she closed her eyes and took a deep breath. "Sorry."

That didn't sound apologetic at all. "What do you mean?"

Pinkamena sighed, blinking her eyes open. "Thank you."

"Huh?"

A sudden whoosh of air startled Twilight. The tangled, puffy curls of Pinkamena's mane straightened out all at once, spilling down over her cheeks. Her tail followed suit. The angry and emotional eyes closed again, and when they opened a very familiar set of ice-cold irises met Twilight's.

"Pinkamena?" Twilight began.

"It's Diana, now."

Almost imperceptibly, the unicorn's right eye twitched. "I'm lost."

"Not for long, I don't think so." Diana gave her a reassuring nod. "But of course, we shouldn't be wasting time, should we? Ician is waiting for us."

"Right..." Twilight blinked. It's as if she just became a totally different pony!

"Why the confused look?"

"Huh? Oh, um..."

Diana chuckled. "You think I'm strange, don't you?"

"... Yes."

"I have no doubts that Ician will explain it all soon. Perhaps after the battle is over." She shrugged. "If he doesn't, I will. I think everypony needs to know."

"I think," Twilight said wearily, "that everypony needed to know a long time ago."

And a stitch here, and one there. Perhaps if I use a blend of cerise and-

"Rarity. Rarity, can you hear me?"

She snapped back into reality, blinking away her thoughts. "Yes, I can."

"Good." Ician's voice was a mere whisper. "Where are you?"

"I followed the commanders onto the roof of the first central building."

"What are they doing now?"

"Discussing strategy."

"How many of them are there?"

"Five."

"Alright. Let me see..." There was a brief pause. "Take... six steps to your right."

"If you say so..." She followed his instructions, keeping her eyes on the changelings.

"Are the commanders' backs turned to you?"

"Yes."

"Reach out your right hoof."

"Okay, but-" She stopped. Something firm, something hard, brushed against her hoof. A translucent blue aura manifested itself to her right.

Her breath quickened. In a flash, her hoof was back by her side, driven by years-old instincts. She looked up, panicked, hoping that the changelings hadn't spotted her.

She was in luck. They were still absorbed in their conversation.

"Ician!" Rarity hissed. "What was that for?"

"Now both of you know exactly where the other is. I expect you to move with absolute synchronization when I give the code phrase."

"You could have just told us!"

"Maybe, but you wouldn't remember as well."

"Why, I ought to..." She took a deep breath, trying to calm herself down. "Never mind. Please, next time, try to cut down on the surprises."

"Fair enough." With a soft click, Ician disconnected himself from the walkie-talkie.

Rarity sighed. She resumed her quiet observation of the changeling commanders.

"Very sure?" One of them, whose name Rarity believed was Fal, asked.

There was a brief pause before the one named Protea replied. "Yes. I am sure."

"Then all that's left to do is win." Fal said, turning his attention to the battlefield.

Protea looked away from him, uncertainty in her eyes. She mouthed a word silently.

A word? Rarity frowned. No, a name...

click click click

"Ician?"

"Yes, Trixie?" Ician asked distractedly.

"Trixie wants to know what the clicking noise is."

"Hm?" His eyes brightened slightly as he became dimly aware of the sound. "Oh, I see. Rarity's trying to contact me."

"Are you going to answer?"

"Of course I am." He reached over to a button on the side of the counter and pressed it. "Yes?"

Rarity's voice came from the other end. "Sorry to disturb you, but I needed to know if this is something important."

"What is?"

"Do you know who Theria is?"

"Theria?" Ician turned to Faye. She gave him a noncommittal shrug. "No idea. Do you know who she is?"

"I don't know either."

"Hey!" Trixie exclaimed. "Why did nopony ask me?"

"Okay then." Ician said dryly. "Who is Theria?"

"I don't know."

"And that's why I didn't ask you." He shifted his attention back to Rarity. "How did you come across this name?"

"One of the commanders mouthed it. Protea, I believe."

"Intriguing." He mused. "Could I ask-"

screech

Ician scrambled for the mute button. He fumbled around for a couple of seconds, momentarily lost, before he finally found what he was looking for and slammed his hoof down on it.

Disaster hopefully averted, he turned to the source, frowning. Twilight and Diana stood at the doorway.

"Please, knock next time." Ician hissed.

"Hello, Twilight." Trixie's eyes narrowed. "And Diana."

Diana ignored her. "Sorry, we didn't think it was necessary." She strode in, a cocky grin on her face. "After all, we wanted to obey to your order with all due haste."

"Diana." Twilight gave her a warning look.

She sighed. "Fine, fine, alright, We'll remember to knock in the future."

"Thank you. Give me a moment, please." Ician pressed the mute button again. "Sorry about that, Rarity. Have you been discovered?"

"Not yet." She whispered crossly. "I think they assumed that was some kind of battle noise. But I wouldn't push our luck."

"Agreed."

"What was that, at any rate?"

"It was..." His eyes flickered momentarily to Diana, and then Twilight. The former stared at him expectantly. "... nothing important."

"Well, if you say so." Rarity said sceptically.

"Goodbye, Rarity." He muted the conversation again and turned back to the two mercenaries.

"So, what was it you wanted to tell us?" Twilight asked.

"Nothing. I just have something to ask you." Ician looked at Diana. "Do you think you know what my plan is?"

Diana eyed him critically. "I can't say."

"Are you afraid that you're wrong?"

"No." She answered. "I'm afraid that I'm right."

Ician raised his eyebrow, curious. "How can you be afraid to be right?"

"I'm not afraid of being right. I'm only afraid of saying the right thing."

"... What?"

"It's a somewhat irrational fear." She explained. "But according to Pinkie, an unspoken plan is guaranteed to work, while a plan explained is destined to fail."

Ician was nonplussed. "That's only true in a work of fiction."

"Pinkie keeps insisting that we are in one." Diana said. "I used to be sceptical of it, but lately it's been working in my favour."

"When, exactly?"

"During the interviews. The Administrator kept saying that he wanted to be 'offscreen' when he told me what to do. I guess I know what he meant now."

"... Uh huh." Ician gazed at Twilight. "Alright, second question."

"Go ahead." Twilight said.

"I need to know if you're agreeable to this."

"Okay, what is it?"

"I'm-"

"- not going to say it." Diana cut in. "Remember what I said about the unspoken plan guarantee?"

"And remember what I said about it?" Ician countered. "Only in works of fiction, Diana."

"It never hurts to be safe, does it?"

"But then how am I going to ask Twilight if she's alright with what I have in mind?"

"There are two ways." Diana replied. "One, whisper it into her ear. The audience can never hear that."

"Or...?"

"Or you can tell her the vague details and leave the audience guessing."

"Which is better?"

"Both are fine. But allowing the audience to guess tends to make them happier if they get it right, or astounded at your brilliance if they get it wrong."

"One more question." The knowledgeable look on Ician's face cleverly disguised the fact that he was almost completely lost. "Who is the audience?"

"If the Administrator is to be believed, they are 'hairless apes from another dimension'."

"Ah." He nodded, careful not to let the bewilderment show.

Trixie had no such reservations. "What?"

"Hold on." Diana paused. "Pinkie would like to argue that they do, in fact, have hair, but it is short enough that on first glance, it looks like there's none."

"We're detracting from the topic." Ician snapped. "But I'll indulge you this once, if only because I feel that we've wasted too much time arguing about this already."

"Fair enough." Diana smirked.

"So, Twilight..." He considered how to phrase his question. "... Suppose I had a plan."

"You always do." She remarked.

"Yes, but suppose I had this particular plan." He continued. "I want to take some unnecessary risks to achieve an end result inconsequential to this battle but greatly beneficial to our odds of claiming victory in this war."

"... Uh, come again?"

Ician sighed. "What would you say if this plan wouldn't help us win the battle, but would rather make our chances worse?"

Twilight frowned. "Why would you have such a plan?"

"Because it helps us win the war as a whole."

"How is that supposed to work?"

"Just as an analogy... say I wanted some enemy intelligence. In order to get it, I'd have to weaken our front line defenses by splitting our forces. But this intelligence would help us win the next two battles."

"Would we still be able to win that- I mean, this battle?" Twilight asked.

"Odds are, yes."

"Odds..."

"Four out of five. Down from nine out of ten."

Twilight cocked her eyebrow. "That high?"

"Numbers don't lie."

"Well, that seems pretty decent. I don't see why not."

"But," Ician added, "what if somepony has to die in the process?"

"So long as it's not Twilight!" Trixie shouted.

"We have respawn points, Trixie. It wouldn't matter."

"So, you're fine with it?" He asked.

Twilight shrugged. "I don't see why not."

"That's all I needed to know." He smiled smugly. "Just one last thing."

"What?"

Ician gestured to his computer screens. "I want you to watch this."

click

"Rarity, can you hear me?"

"Yes, Ician?" She whispered back.

"Say goodbye to them now."

Rarity froze. Slowly, she looked up, towards the cabal of changeling commanders watching the battle intently.

Beside her, the soft tap tap tap of hoofsteps signaled the BLU Spy's departure. She cast one last look at the group, and then followed suit.

"How many troops do we have left?" Protea questioned.

"Ah... I'm not sure." Fal pondered. "But we've already lost a fair number."

"Almost a thousand." Shifter supplied.

"That's a lot." Gran grunted.

"I wish..." Espia sighed. "So many casualties..."

"Such is the way of war." Protea said. "But what worries me more is that we have yet to win. I don't even know how many more copies of this place there are left before we reach the Administrator's base."

Fal snapped, "Well, I think-"

There was a pause.

"Fal?" Protea asked.

"Excuse me, Commander Protea." Said a voice that was clearly not Fal's.

Protea spun around, fangs unfurled. Behind her, a frantic RED Spy hammered on a device hooked on her side. A BLU Spy, to her side, was doing the same.

"Ician!" The RED Spy screamed.

"Sorry, Rarity. But this is part of my plan."

"What?!" Protea snarled.

"Oh yes, Commander Protea." The voice addressed her. "Look down."

She did. "Am I supposed to be looking at something?"

"The dead bodies of your fellow commanders, if they weren't killed with a Your Eternal Reward."

"I... you!"

"Such is the way of war, isn't it?" He said cheerfully.

She was shocked speechless. Her mouth opened of its own accord, mouthing words she didn't know. She trembled with rage.

"Nothing to say?"

At last, she found her voice. "How could you?!"

"Did you think you were winning?" He asked amiably. "I suppose you never saw me change the game we've been playing."

"I'm going to kill you!" She screamed.

"Fair enough." The voice said. "I'm afraid that you'll have to get to me first, though. My Spies happen to be in the way."

Fury flashed through her eyes. "Nothing can stop me. Nothing!"

"Then prove it." He taunted. "Defeat the both of them."

"I will." She snarled. "And you'll be next."

"I look forward to it." And then, he fell silent.

Protea stared the two Spies in the eye. Her hole-ridden legs twitched, half in anger and half in anticipation. It had been a while since they had last seen active combat.

Just makes things more interesting.

She let a predatory smile settle on her mouth, mere moments before a film of green smoke obscured the Spies from her vision - and in turn, her from theirs.

She heard two shots echo out in unison. Her legs folded instantly. She dropped to the floor like a lead weight, the two bullets rocketing mere millimeters above her head.

The smoke faded, her transformation complete, and she stepped out into the light. The predatory grin was still there, but now on a different pair of lips.

The BLU Spy gasped. "Oh my Luna..."

Protea stretched her new claws threateningly. The feathered wings on her back, black as night, unfurled themselves to their full length. She snarled malevolently and bared her pointed teeth.

"Alright." The griffon growled. "Who wants to go first?"

Both Spies glanced at each other, shared a knowing look, and with unnerving accuracy fired their revolvers in tandem.

"Pathetic." Protea flapped her powerful wings, boosting herself upwards and away from the bullets. With outstretched claws, she turned in midair and propelled herself towards her enemies.

Both of them rolled away from her in separate directions. Protea angled herself slightly. She plowed into the BLU Spy with all the force and grace of a falling piano and ripped a long gash in her underside.

"Ah!" She aimed at Protea, her revolver shaking madly in her rapidly weakening magical grip. She fired once, but the shot went wild. Protea snatched the gun out of the air and pressed it into the Spy's muzzle.

"Any last words?" She hissed.

The Spy shook her head, her face contorted in an expression of fear.

Protea narrowed her eyes. "Give me a moment."

She stretched her wings and thrashed them wildly. Spinning around, she targeted for the RED Spy's face and shot twice.

The Spy was prepared to backstab, but not to retaliate. Her knife still in her grip, she only managed dodge the first shot - albeit with grace - but the second caught her in her right foreleg. She grunted, and the telekinetic aura around her knife faded. It returned stronger than ever, however, around the hoofgrip of her own revolver.

Protea wasted no time. She let loose another two shots and catapulted herself back into the air above her enemy, tossing the now empty gun off the edge of the building. Her wings readjusted, preparing her body for another sudden downward propulsion.

The Spy saw it coming. She ducked, neatly avoiding both bullets, and brought her revolver up. She fired twice; one for each wing.

Protea grimaced. As fast as she could, she tucked both wings firmly to her side. The bullets grazed her primaries, but otherwise missed her completely.

She kept her wings shut and let gravity do the rest.

The Spy's eyes widened in shock. "Oh m-"

crash

Her legs pinned the Spy down under her. Her right talon wrapped itself firmly around the Spy's neck. "It's over."

"No." The RED Spy gasped. "It's not."

Protea brought her remaining claw up and slashed the BLU Spy, who had crept up behind her, across the face. The unicorn howled in pain and collapsed.

"Now," she growled dangerously, "it's over."

The RED Spy sighed. "So it is."

"Too bad, then," Ician's voice came from the Spy's walkie-talkie, "that she will respawn but your fellow commanders won't."

Protea laughed harshly. "Do you think I cared about them at all?"

"Perhaps not all of them... but none of them?"

The answer seemed obvious. Protea was about to deliver it, but a sudden bout of uncertainty held her back.

"I'll take your silence to mean that you do."

"Give me a moment." With a quick motion, Protea snapped the RED Spy's neck. She turned around and, wrapping her claws around the BLU Spy's neck, did the same.

"Now that you've given yourself time to think," Ician continued amiably, "what's your answer?"

"I don’t care.” And to her surprise, she found that she meant it. She swallowed, not sure of what that implied, and soldiered on. “Did that even need answering?"

"Evidently, yes." He chuckled. "Oh, and yes, have fun."

click

Protea stared blankly at the communicator, wondering what he meant. And then everything hit her at once.

Espia. Shifter. Gran. Fal. They're all dead. She turned, slowly, back to the raging battle. I'm the last Commander.

... What now?

For a full minute, she watched the battlefield silently. No thoughts, no panic, no fear, no anger. Just emptiness.

"Ician," she said quietly, "I hope you're listening. Because..." Her eyes narrowed.

"If you have any loved ones, say goodbye to them now."

Gambit

"What now, Officer?"

"Keep pushing." Exos, safely isolated behind the front lines, eyed the central building cautiously. "Is the BLU Sniper dead?"

"Soon." His subordinate confirmed. "We're overwhelming her with our own Snipers. It won't be long before she's killed."

"And their Engineer?"

"Our Spies and Soldiers are swarming her position now."

Exos nodded. "Tell me when you manage to-"

"Exos!"

His eyes widened. "Commander?"

"Look sharp, officer."

Pivoting on his rear legs, he swiveled around and saluted. "What brings you to the battlefront?"

"Developments." With her resigned posture, her listless steps, and her head hung low, she looked more like a peasant than a Commander. All that was left of the old Protea was her determined grimace.

"Developments?" Exos asked carefully.

"Developments." Her stare flickered to Exos' subordinate. "Leave us."

"As you wish." With a low bow, the changeling hurried away.

Exos watched him scurry away. "What developments, Commander?"

Protea sighed. "The other Commanders are dead."

The words passed through his ears. It took several seconds for him to process them and come up with an appropriate response.

"What?!" He spluttered.

"Spies." She glared at him. "I don't suppose you saw any of them during the battle?"

"Of... of course not, Commander."

"That's the whole point!" Protea snapped. "Why didn't you realize they weren't around?"

"Good Spies are never around." Exos explained desperately. "Never around anything that's still alive for more than five seconds, at any rate."

"I'll deal with you later." She gazed out at the battlefield. "How much progress have we made?"

"We're almost past this second group of buildings."

"Not fast enough." She extended her hoof towards him. "Do you have a gun?"

"Um... just a revolver, Commander."

"Any melee weapons?"

"A katana I took from the RED Demomare's corpse." He reached to his side and, touching his hoof to the tip of a sleek ebony scabbard, extricated the bloody sword. "I believe that it's called the Half-Zatoichi."

"Who calls it that?"

"The mercenaries."

"I'm not going to use their name. I'll give it a new one." Her horn flashed with a sickly green glare, and the sword flew quickly to her side. "As soon as I think of something."

"Hold on, Commander." Exos' eyes widened. "You're not planning to... join the battle yourself, are you?"

"Why not?"

"I... there is no reason for you to risk yourself so unnecessarily."

"I have to fight alongside my minions."

"Commander, you are our leader." Exos insisted. "If you fall, the battle is lost."

"How pessimistic." Aided by her magic, the revolver floated out of his hoof. She grinned. "I won't fall."

"You are but one bullet or rocket away from death."

"That's far enough away for me."

"I do not-"

"Who's in charge here?" Protea snapped.

Exos paused. Then, reluctantly, he said, "You, Commander."

"So don't question me."

"... As you wish."

She nodded. "Come along. We have work to do."

"I don't think so," came a voice. In an instant, every head was turned towards the source.

A mere moment later, a blast shattered the ground before Exos. He stumbled back, blinking furiously. "Commander!"

"I'm alright." She grunted. "Get back on your hooves."

He scrambled upright.

"The smoke is beginning to clear." She continued.

"It is..." Exos squinted. He could make out the vague silhouette of an earth pony stepping forward...

Abruptly, a gust of wind dissipated the cloud. A terrifying blend of black, blue and pink met his eyes. A bubbly pink mane and tail waved energetically in the breeze. Sleek black gloves gave way to a bloodied blue asbestos suit, which in turn melted smoothly into a charred, faceless mask. A bulky grey flamethrower rested in her grip, crimson blood and lighter fluid dripping from the nozzle.

Exos could almost hear the malicious grin under the mask. "Who has work to do?"

"Out of my way, scum." Protea snarled.

"Look who's talking." The BLU Pyro chuckled darkly. "And I have a name, you know. Pinkamena."

"I couldn't care less!" Protea jabbed her hoof at Pinkamena. "Kill her!"

All at once, a horde of changelings converged on her. Exos stepped away.

"Bad choice." A swath of deadly flame arced across the battlefield. Three changeling Scouts stumbled away, screaming in pain.

"Take the flamethrower!" Protea ordered.

Exos found his courage. A stock pistol removed itself from the holster on his hip and fired.

"Nice try." Pinkamena cartwheeled backwards, the bullets passing right over her mask, and sprang back into position just in time to airblast a couple of rockets back at their firers.

kaboom

Pinkamena sighed pleasantly. A shower of blood and gore coursed down onto her suit and onto the ground. "Beautiful."

"Enough is enough." Protea barked. "Everyone else, stand back." She galloped forward, revolver in hoof, and snapped off three shots.

Pinkamena barely reacted in time. In the blink of an eye, her flamethrower manoeuvred into position to take all the bullets. Three consecutive pings echoed softly. She growled. "You're going to wish you hadn't done that."

"Am I?" Protea bared her teeth. A green burst of flame encapsulated her. "We shall see."

"You shall see, maybe, but I already do." With an angry shriek and a manic leap, Pinkamena soared towards Protea.

"Too late." Immediately, the green fire died. A griffon stepped out and, in a single deft sweep, grabbed hold of Pinkamena's neck.

"Ack!" Pinkamena thrashed wildly, putting her hoof threateningly to the trigger of her flamethrower. Protea sneered, grabbed the nozzle, and twisted it downwards.

"Anything else?"

"Just this." A pink hoof, traveling with the force of a train, drove itself into Protea's stomach. Her grip loosened momentarily. Pinkamena slipped out of her grasp.

"Commander!" It was almost a dream for Exos, to see his superior being assaulted and matched so easily. He lifted his pistol shakily and took aim at Pinkamena's head.

bang

Out of nowhere, Pinkamena's hoof appeared between the bullet and its target. A burst of blood exploded outwards from her leg with a wet squelch.

She smiled blandly. "Good shot."

"That's it!" Protea growled. Her claw blinked forward and slashed through the air.

Pinkamena jumped backwards. Landing gracefully, she drew her fire axe out from her belt and beckoned to Protea. "Your move."

Protea made another grab for the Pyro, but the latter dodged her blow neatly and retaliated with a slice that nearly took her arm off. Protea backtracked rapidly, clutching her hand to her chest.

"Come on, you have a weapon too." Pinkamena said.

Protea's talons closed around her revolver. In the span of a second, it was in the air and centered on her target's head.

Pinkamena scoffed. She strode forward and forcefully smashed the gun out of Protea's hand with the butt of the axe. "Not that one. The other one."

"You mean this one?" Protea snarled. The bloodstained katana flew out in an arc towards Pinkamena.

"Yes." Pinkamena grinned madly. "That one." She sidestepped the blade and, letting her momentum carry her the full way through, brought her own to bear. Sparks flew as axe met sword. "As I said: your move."

"Grah!" She thrust the Half-Zatoichi forward. The tip grazed Pinkamena's suit, but not before her axe delivered a blow to the katana so powerful it turned her claws to jelly.

"Actually, I forgot to ask: Are you the changeling commander?" Pinkamena laughed mockingly, deflecting an uppercut with her axe. "I can't be too sure. You don't fight as well as the rest of those minions."

"Shut up!" The sword drew back and stabbed forward again. It carved off a long strip of Pinkamena's suit, exposing her torso.

"Ooh! Good one." Her axe slashed at Protea's chest. A clump of feathers fell to the ground. "There we go, returned the favour."

Protea gazed at her disbelievingly. "Are you... toying with me?"

"Now, what could make you think that?" Idly, Pinkamena snipped the tip of Protea's claw off with a clean flick of her axe. Another brief wave caught a bullet from Exos' gun. "I can't imagine where you got that idea."

Protea simply stared, mouth open. Her lips moved but no words came out.

"Cat got your tongue? Maybe I can loosen it up for you." She turned away. "Your turn, Twilight!"

pew

A red spear of light lanced outwards from the central building. Protea ducked just in time to see it pass over her head and into the skull of one of the changelings behind her.

The effect was immediate. A powerful shockwave carried Protea off her feet, propelling her several meters forward. Her wings unfolded, trying to stabilize herself, but to no avail. She landed roughly on the ground, losing her grip on the katana. It clattered onto the ground somewhere.

The main blast caught up with her a brief moment later. Searing hot air singed her coat. She snapped her arm upwards, trying, without success, to shield her eyes from the pain.

Her heart beat furiously. Somewhere out there, Pinkamena was loose. That monster could kill her at any moment. And she would be powerless.

She wasn't the one with a respawn point.

Her eyes still stinging, Protea felt around the floor blindly for her Half-Zatoichi. The tip of her claw came into contact with something metallic. She snatched it up.

Her eyes flew open. Above her, the faceless mask of the Pyro leered, the axe clutched threateningly in her hoofed grip.

Protea reacted. Her sword flew upwards swiftly, colliding with the sharp end of the axe and forcing it back. An adrenaline rush gave her the strength to overwhelm Pinkamena, if only momentarily.

But a moment was all she needed.

Pinkamena's forelegs shuddered under the pressure. Her hind legs spread themselves apart as she struggled to resist Protea's strength. It gave Protea the opening she needed.

She drew her leg back, sneered, and kicked Pinkamena in the crotch.

Abruptly, the axe gave way. Pinkamena collapsed onto the ground, screaming.

Protea smirked. "Too much?" She listened a little closer, and then she slowly began to realize that they weren't screams of pain at all.

Pinkamena laughed, wiping the tears away from her eyes. "Oh, you actually... you actually... oh Luna, Diana really guessed right. Good thing I wore those crotchguards!"

"Say what now?"

"Here's a taste of your own medicine." Pinkamena snarled and, with a cruel grin, bucked Protea between the legs with as much force as she could muster.

Protea's jaw fell open. The pain of a thousand wounds fell upon her all at once. An unrelenting pulse of sheer torment spread to her legs, and she toppled over with a silent scream dying on her lips.

"Hm..." Pinkamena got to her hooves slowly. Her eyes glinted with smugness. "Too much, eh?"

"Ugh..." Her instincts willed her to stand up. She rolled over instead.

"How about we end this now?" Pinkamena suggested, leveling her axe at Protea's throat. "I think prolonging this would be torturous." She cackled. "If you're lucky."

"Get away from her!" All of a sudden, Exos sped into Protea's field of vision. He charged straight into Pinkamena and tackled her to the ground.

"Get off!" Pinkamena demanded. She tried to pull her axe free from Exos' grip.

"No." He growled. His green aura brought his pistol to rest squarely on her forehead.

Pinkamena's eyes widened. Leaning forward, she wrenched the gun out of the air with her teeth and spat it out a few meters away. She caught Exos' face in a violent headbutt. As he fell backwards, dazed, Pinkamena pulled the axe out of his grasp.

"You'll pay for that." Pinkamena lifted her hind leg and brought it down heavily on his chest. It gave way with the gruesome cracking and tearing of exoskeleton and internal organs.

"Argh!" Exos gnashed his teeth.

"Pathetic." Pinkamena snorted. She kicked the convulsing body aside and turned back to Protea. "Now, we had something to settle, didn't we?"

Protea's eyes twitched. "You... monster!"

"What?" Pinkamena cocked her head in curiosity. "Surely you've seen worse."

"This is brutality beyond anything I've ever witnessed!" Protea spat.

"Oh, really?" Adjusting her grip on her fire axe, Pinkamena crept forward menacingly. "Then believe me, your standards will be at rock bottom before this war is over."

"Not before I kill you." She remembered her Half-Zatoichi and brought it to bear. "And Chrysalis help me, I will."

"If only I had a penny for everypony who's ever said that to me." Pinkamena flourished her axe as one would a rapier.

Protea shook her head, growled, and sprang forward.

"Twilight. Twilight, are you there?"

Twilight tapped her hoof to her walkie-talkie. "Yes, Ician, I'm here."

"You're in the central building, right?"

"I am. Why?"

"Is everypony else with you yet?"

Pulling her face away from her rifle's scope, she looked around. The faces of both BLU's and RED's mercenaries - sans the BLU Pyro, of course - stared back at her. "They're all here."

"Excellent. Look behind you."

"Why?"

"Just do it."

Twilight turned around. "What am I supposed to be looking at?"

"There are some barrels there, correct?"

"Yes..." Three rows of old, rotting wooden barrels stood against the back wall of the room. "What are they for?"

"Do you remember what I asked you a few minutes ago?"

She racked her mind. "You mean, about your long-term plan?"

"Yes."

"What about it?"

"It starts now."

"Oh." She said. "What do you want us to do?"

"Absolutely nothing."

"Then..."

There was a brief pause. And then, with unmistakable solemnity, Ician said, "I'm sorry."

click

Red. Everything was red.

Exos blinked weakly. It did nothing to clear the blood from his eyes. He tried to lift his head, but it was fixed to the ground. Everything was fading rapidly to grey.

Commander... I've failed you...

Vaguely, he heard the sound of distant shouting. His own troops, presumably. But what were they doing?

"There he is!"

"Oh my Chrysalis, he looks terrible!"

"Where's our Medic?"

"I'm here, I'm here!"

"What are you waiting for? Help him!"

Suddenly, the agony began to subside. Broken blood vessels, joints, muscles and exoskeleton knit themselves back together.

He opened his eyes. The redness had cleared.

"Officer? Are you alright?"

He turned around. A Medic, flanked by two other Soldiers, looked at him with visible concern.

"Why are you here?" Exos asked. "This is far too close to the battle. The Pyro could incinerate you!"

"We had to save you." The Medic replied simply.

"Don't do that again." He ordered.

"No guarantees, Officer."

He shook his head in exasperation.

"Also, we thought you might like to know something."

Exos was immediately alert. "What?"

"Intelligence report from the central building. One of our Spies went in."

"What did she find out?"

"The entire team is there."

"RED or BLU?"

"Both."

Exos' mind was racing with possibilities. "But... that means that we can pick them all off at once with an explosives attack, or-"

"Not a chance, Officer." The Medic shook her head sadly. "They're not doing anything in particular. They're just standing around. There's no way they won't notice an incoming attack before we manoeuvre into place."

"But why aren't they doing anything?"

"We have no idea." She shrugged. "But our Spy's guess is that it was an order from the top."

"You mean..." His eyes widened. "The Administrator?"

"If he's the one commanding them, then that would be so."

Exos brought his hoof to his chin in contemplation. "What could he be planning..."

"One more thing, Officer."

"Yes?"

"There are barrels at the back of the central building room, as well."

"Barrels? What for?"

"Well, our Spy couldn't look into them for fear of being discovered, so we have no idea."

What would they store in there?

"Alright," he said, addressing the Medic, "I need you to-"

All of a sudden, the Medic's eyes widened. "Officer, down!"

"Huh?" A brief second later, it clicked. He ducked quickly, just in time to dodge the lance of red, tipped with the deadly metal of a sniper bullet. It embedded itself in the concrete wall behind him.

"Thanks." He muttered.

"Best don't let your guard down yet, Officer."

Exos looked up. He found himself staring down the barrel of a rocket launcher.

"Orders?"

He searched for cover. There was none. "Prepare for evasion."

"As you wish."

fwoosh

The others scattered to both sides of him. Exos simply rolled forward and stayed down, covering his head and neck with his hooves.

The rocket soared over him and hit the wall. It exploded with the force of ten tons of dynamite, bringing a cloud of dust and sulfur down on his body.

It was at that very moment, with debris raining down upon his curled-up form, that a revelation hit him with the force of a meteoric impact.

That's it!

"Are you still there?" He called out.

"We're fine, Officer!" The Medic called out.

"New orders." Exos growled. "Cover me!"

"At once." The three of them leapt forward, two rocket launchers blazing and a healing beam glowing to life.

Please tell me I'm right. He checked his pistol. It had a few bullets left. This'll have to do.

He sprang at the central building.

"Twilight! I thought you said they'd run away!"

"How should I have known that they wanted to die so badly?" She shouted. She leaned forward on a nearby box, trying to align the laser pointer with a hostile head. "Just keep shooting, Rainbow!"

"What's Ician doing?" Rarity asked, firing out the window.

"I don't know! He must have turned off his walkie-talkie!"

A rocket whizzed over her head. The RED Pyro's airblast sent it flying right back.

"What are they trying to do?" Spike queried at the top of his voice.

"I have no idea!" Twilight answered. "Just keep them out!"

A loud crash sounded through the room. The box Twilight had been resting her rifle on shattered into a million splinters. All of a sudden, she found herself face-to-face with a pair of fangs and two eerie blue eyes.

It raised a pistol in its telekinetic grip. "This is for every changeling you've killed today."

Everything happened too fast. Twilight felt a pair of hands grab her by the shoulders and pull her away from the gun.

The changeling stared at her dispassionately, shook its head, and fired - at the barrels.

A military shack. It's a military shack, for holing up in during a defense.

There are only so many things one would store in a military shack.

One of them is food. Immaterial, they certainly wouldn't be out here long enough to need that.

Another are medical supplies. Unnecessary, they have two Medics there.

There's only one more thing that could possibly be in those barrels.

Ammunition.

KABOOM

An earth-shattering blast ripped the central building apart.

Pinkamena rocked on her hooves. The grip on her axe slipped for a moment. Thankfully, Protea wasn't in any shape to take advantage of the situation - her wings snapped open, and the shockwave from the explosion propelled her away from the duel.

A moment later, a gargantuan cloud of dust obscured her from vision.

click

"Pinkamena. Can you hear me?"

"Loud and clear."

"It seems that the changelings have exploited the weak spot."

Is this still part of his plan? Diana wondered.

"All according to plan, I take it?" Pinkamena asked.

"All according to plan." Ician confirmed. "But now, you have new orders."

"What are they?"

"End your duel with Protea."

"You mean, kill her?"

"No, no. The opposite, in fact. Make sure you don't kill her. Just stay out of her way."

"What?" She stomped her hoof crossly. "We were just getting to the fun part!"

"You're mistaken. This is the fun part." He paused. "I want you to go in there and kill as many changelings as you can. Indiscriminately. And brutally, if possible."

... Did I mishear that? Diana asked.

I don't think you did. Pinkie replied.

"Please don't tell me I heard you wrong." Pinkamena begged.

"You didn't. I want you to break their morale." He said. "I think there are about five hundred of them left, at least. I'll need you to whittle it down to two or three hundred."

Pinkamena grinned. "I can do a lot more than that."

"Frankly, with all five hundred of them there, not to mention Protea, I don't think your killing spree will last very long." Then, in an approving tone, he said, "But I do admire your courage and optimism."

"Yeah, yeah, whatever. I've got a respawn point for a reason."

"Well, have fun. If you'll excuse me, I've got a few other things to take care of."

click

Pinkamena cackled. "Are you guys ready for this?"

Internally, Pinkie sighed. ... Ready as I'll ever be.

Twilight awoke.

click

"Welcome back."

Her mind was still in the midst of processing the latest circumstances. "... What."

"What?"

"What. Was. That. For." She growled.

"The Plan." Ician said. "With a capital P."

"How could that possibly have helped us?" She exploded.

"The way you mercenaries were going the changelings would all be dead within the hour." He answered amiably.

"Wouldn't that be what you want?" Twilight snapped.

"No, no, of course not. Well, not all of them dead, at any rate."

"Then," she ground out, "who do you want alive?"

"Their commander. Protea."

"I... why?"

"Can you figure it out yourself?"

"Not right now, I can't." She shook her head. "If you had just told us not to kill her, we wouldn't have!"

"It's not enough to leave her alive. She has to think she's won."

Her mind raced. "Why?"

"You'll see. For now, just come to the shop."

"To stock up and go back out there?"

"No." He said firmly. "You will all be staying here."

Protea groaned as she picked herself off the floor. She renewed her grip around the katana.

"Commander!" All of a sudden, she felt two hooves haul her upright from behind and dust her down. "Are you alright?"

She shrugged them off and turned around, looking the changeling in the eye. "I'm fine. But what happened?"

"Um..." The changeling averted his gaze. "It was Officer Exos."

"What did he do?"

"From what I've heard, all the other mercenaries were in that central building. He must have taken advantage of the fact."

Protea gazed at the rapidly expanding cloud of dust. "How did he create that explosion?"

"The intelligence report said that there were barrels in the building. My guess is that they were filled with explosives."

"Where is he now?"

"Uh..." He coughed awkwardly. ",.. I'm sorry, Commander. He was practically inside the building when it happened."

"Did you find his body?"

"Not yet. We can't see anything with this cloud here." He gestured to the smoke. "But when it clears, we'll be able to-"

shlck

It came without warning. A blade flashed in front of her face, and a second later the changeling was missing his head.

"Hiya!" Pinkamena poked Protea in the chest. "Tag, you're it! Catch me if you can!" And then she sped off, leaving an impossible cloud of pink behind.

Protea blinked. "Huh?"

Finally, it clicked.

"What?!"

She looked out in the direction Pinkamena had run. A trail of changeling corpses lay in her wake.

"Hello again!"

"Gah!" She spun around. The now-familiar mask stared at her.

Driven by instinct, her claw burst forward and snatched the mask off Pinkamena's face.

"Ooh, got me!" She giggled. Under the mask was an even more unsettling sight - the manic, twisted grin of a madmare, complete with twitching eyes and spasming ears. "Hey, this is a great chance to test my axe!" The sharpened edge of her fire axe snapped up to Protea's neck.

"I... uh..." She was shocked speechless.

"Did you know?" She added cheerfully. "I get two whole seconds of free crits after every kill! Isn't that awesome?"

Protea drew away, her eyes darting from side to side. Is there a way out of this?

Pinkamena looked down. "Aw, it ran out! Gimme a second, I think they're more kills over there." Quick as a flash, she galloped off.

"Wha..." She frowned. "Wait, what am I doing? Why am I scared of her?"

"Maybe because I'm too pro for you?"

"Aha!" The Half-Zatoichi, secure in her palm, slashed outwards and around herself in an arc.

Halfway through, it met steel. Protea looked behind her.

"Close, close." Pinkamena nodded sagely, axe in hoof. "By the way, have I ever mentioned how awesome natural health regen is?"

She ignored the rambling. With a harsh snarl, she whipped the sword around again, aiming for a downward slash.

"Ah, not so fast." The blade of the axe caught the blow. A second later, Pinkamena followed through with a swift bludgeon to the nose with the butt of her weapon.

Protea stumbled back and shielded her face, wiping the blood away. When she withdrew her hand, the Pyro was nowhere to be seen.

Where did she go? It struck her. My troops-

"- are almost all dead." Pinkamena finished for her. "Funny, isn't it? Between bullet resistance, airblasts, and free crits, they really don't have a leg to stand on."

Protea was prepared for it this time. She whipped around and carved a deep gash through the Pyro's torso.

"Ack! Good one." Pinkamena adopted a battle stance. "My turn."

The axe stabbed forward in a thrust. Protea only just managed to deflect the blow. She fell to the ground and rolled forward, in between Pinkamena's legs. She brought her katana around in a slash that almost took Pinkamena's hindlegs off.

"Oh, that was a nice try." Pinkamena jumped and tucked both legs close to her chest. "My turn."

"What do you mean-" The blunt end of the axe smashed painfully into her skull. She gritted her teeth and willed herself to scramble to her feet.

"Oh, did that hurt?" Pinkamena smirked. "I'm sorry."

"You know what?" Protea glared at her balefully. "I've had enough of this."

Pinkamena gave her a quizzical look. "What do you mean?"

Protea sighed. A column of green fire burst out from beneath her feet, cradling her in its warm embrace. Seconds later, she stepped out of the conflagration, the last vestiges of the griffon fading away from her changeling form.

She kicked her katana away and lowered herself to her knees. "I surrender."

"Wait... really? Huh." Pinkamena trotted to her side. "That was a lot easier than I thought it'd be."

"You've won, fair in square."

"Good, good." Pinkamena patted Protea's head gently. The hoof landed on her wound. She winced.

Protea kept her gaze fixed on the ground. "But I'm a Commander."

"And?"

"That means I know when I have to cheat." And, with that, she thrust her head upwards and impaled Pinkamena's neck on her horn.

Moments stretched off into eternity. Pinkamena stared forward passively, uncomprehending. Then, her mouth morphed into a smile, and she coughed up a globule of blood.

"Well... played..." She croaked. "Well played..."

Protea stood up and kicked her aside. "It gives me no pleasure to win through deception."

"Really?" Pinkamena chuckled weakly. "No wonder you and Ician don't get along."

Protea shook her head. Without a word, she strode away silently, leaving the dying Pinkamena to bleed out alone.

"Wait."

She stopped in her tracks. "What?"

"One..." Pinkamena coughed wetly. "... One more thing."

"Yes?"

"Ician's waiting for you in the shop."

"The... shop?" Protea turned around and glared at her. "What do you mean?"

Pinkamena smiled at her and shook her head. Soon after, her eyelids flopped shut and her body went limp.

Protea sighed. "Typical."

"Commander!"

She turned her head. "Yes?"

A Scout galloped towards her, slowed to a full stop, and pulled off a sharp salute. "Field report."

"Go on."

"There were heavy casualties. Not many of us are left."

"How many?"

"Um, well..." He hesitated. "... Two, Commander."

Protea gasped, aghast. "Two?!"

"Yes."

"But there were five hundred of you..."

"Well, there were." He said.

"Incompetent..." She took a deep breath. "Never mind. Where is the other one?"

"He's performing a ritual burning, Commander. For the dead."

"Forget about those idiots." She snapped. "Tell him to come and follow me. Now!"

"At once!" He pulled off another salute and, with fearful eyes, hurried away quickly.

One thousand, nine hundred and ninety-eight troops and five Commanders dead... Her eyes narrowed. What kind of killing machines are these mercenaries?

"Commander! We're here!"

She cast a brief glance behind her. The Scout from earlier was now accompanied by a disgruntled-looking Heavy.

"What are your orders?" The Heavy asked gruffly.

"Escort me." She answered curtly. And she walked away.

Where am I?

"Officer Exos? Are you there?"

What's going on? He squinted, trying to see through the opaque cloud of dust. Who was that? And what's with all this smoke?

And then, he remembered.

"I'm here." He coughed. "Who are you?"

"Your Medic, Officer." Exos felt a hoof against his head. "You were too close to the explosion. I need to check you for concussions."

"How did I survive?"

"The Soldiers shielded you at the last minute."

"Where are they now?" He gulped, fearing the answer.

"... I'm afraid they didn't make it, Officer."

Exos gritted his teeth. "Idiots... why did they do that?"

"Their duty to you is paramount, Officer. As is mine."

"... They will be mourned for their loyalty." He got to his hooves, frowning resolutely. "I'll make sure of that."

"As you wish. But for now, Officer, we have to get you to someplace safe. Those mercenaries will respawn, but you won't. I have to tend to your wounds."

Exos tried to clear a path through the smoke with his hoof. "I can't see a thing."

"Neither can I." The Medic replied. "But I was feeling around just now. There's a hut over on the other side."

He nodded. "Lead the way."

"One more thing, Officer?"

"Yes?"

Even through the thick smoke, he could hear the Medic's smile in her voice. "Good job."

"Commander?"

"What?"

"... Is it over?"

Protea gazed at the towering, monolithic stretch of featureless grey - except for one point. Fixed above a bland door was an enormous bright neon sign with the words THE ADMINISTRATOR'S BASE: ENTER HERE flashing in various hues. "I think so."

"Should we go in?"

She eyed the door cautiously. "It might be a trap. And even if it isn't, I don't see how we could possibly defeat the Administrator by ourselves."

"So what now, Commander?"

Scanning the walls intently, her Scout's words went in one ear and out the other. All she could see was grey, more grey, yet more grey, and that accursed neon sign that kept trying to draw her attention.

It was painfully obvious. A bit too painfully obvious, in fact. As if it was meant to be focused on, above all else...

She tore her gaze away forcefully. They're hiding something. But what?

And, finally, she saw it.

"There." She pointed at a wooden shack, inconspicuously situated against the backdrop of grey. "We go in there."

"Commander... what is that?"

"Good question." She said.

Ician's waiting for you in the shop.

"... And I think I know the answer."

The Scout nodded. "You go in first, Heavy."

"Right." Hoisting his minigun, the Heavy moved towards the shack carefully, scanning the ground for traps between every cautious step.

"Don't bother." Protea snapped. "I doubt they would have expected us to reach this far, anyway."

The Heavy hesitated. "Are you sure?"

"Very sure. Now hurry up!"

"Yes, Commander!" He picked up the pace. The Scout raced after him.

Protea shook her head and trotted after them without delay. "Cowardly fools."

Step by step, she sank further into her thoughts. Pinkamena told me that Ician would be waiting. Is this a trap too? Or am I reading too deeply into this?

"Commander?"

She snapped out of her reverie. "Yes?"

"There's no handle on this door."

Closing the rest of the distance swiftly, she leaned in close and examined the wooden wall of the shack. There was a tall discoloured panel - This is the door, I think - but no means of opening it were immediately apparent.

I wonder if it's... She paused. No, wait. They'll expect me to simply open the door.

But I can do more, can't I?

"Orders, Commander?"

"Smash it down." She said.

The Heavy blinked. "I'm sorry?"

"Smash it down." She repeated. "Don't bother looking for the handle."

"Um... but what if-"

"Now." She growled.

"At once!" The Heavy took a few steps back. Cracking his knuckles, he drew up straight, took a deep breath, and charged at the panel like a raging bull.

crack

It gave way with almost no resistance. For an uncomprehending second, the Heavy stood on the tip of his hooves, precariously unbalanced; and then, with a tumultuous crash, he toppled over.

The Scout raised her Scattergun. "Freeze!"

"Oh, um..." At the end of the room behind a small counter, a lone earth pony stared awkwardly at the three intruders. "This is unexpected."

"Hooves up!" Protea ordered.

"Whatever you say." He raised his forehooves in the air obligingly. "I surrender, by the way." He added.

"What's your name?" She demanded.

"Ician." He said simply. "What's yours?"

"Drop the act." She snarled. "This isn't a friendly conversation."

"I kind of realized that the moment your friend," he indicated the Heavy, "smashed my door down, and your other friend pointed a gun at me."

"They're not my friends." She ground out. "They're my subordinates!"

"Ah, so you're that Officer pony. What was his name again..."

"Shut up!" She stomped her hoof angrily. "You know who I am!"

"Uh..." He gazed at her blankly. "Was it... Espia, perhaps?"

"Protea!" She shouted. "Commander Protea!"

"Oh, so you're the idiot the Administrator was talking about." He nodded.

"What?!" In the blink of an eye, she was standing in front of him. She grabbed him by the neck. "Say that again. I dare you."

"Commander." The Scout sounded a cautionary note. "The mission, remember?"

Protea glared at Ician. He shrugged. Dropping him to the floor with a huff, she took a step back.

"I'm giving you a chance. Where is the door to the Administrator's base?"

He looked confused. "Outside, under the neon sign. Didn't you see it?"

"Not that damn door!" She advanced threateningly. "I'm talking about the side door. The one that isn't booby-trapped."

"... Side door? What side door?"

"Don't play dumb with me." She warned. "Where is the side door?"

If anything, he looked even more confused than he had earlier. "I honestly don't know what you're talking about. The Administrator's base has never had a side door."

"Are you asking me to believe that he booby-trapped the only door he had?"

"Whoever said it was booby-trapped?"

"Isn't it obvious?" She snapped.

"... No...?"

"I don't believe-" Suddenly, she realized something. What if... it's simply reverse psychology? And they expect me not to enter because I'll think it's a trap?

"Well, it doesn't matter if you believe it or not." He said. "It's the truth."

"How do I know that you're not lying?" She questioned.

"You could always go and circle the perimeter. But I'm telling you now that it's a waste of time." He shrugged. "Of course, if you want to go and do it-"

"Tell me now." She interrupted. "Is the door booby-trapped or not?"

"If it is," he replied, "the Administrator didn't tell me. The way I see it, though, you have two options. Either you go in or you don't."

"What if I go in and there's a trap?"

"Too bad, I guess." He said.

"And if there isn't?"

"Then you've gotten in alright."

She fell silent, considering the possibilities.

"Take your time to think. Hopefully the mercenaries will be back any time..." He faltered. "I mean, that is..."

"What?" Stepping forward again, she hoisted Ician into the air. "What happened to the mercenaries?"

"Nothing!" He hurriedly said.

"What. Is. It?" She placed her other forehoof on his exposed neck and pressed against it.

"Alright, alright, calm down!" He took a shaky breath. "I heard it was a respawn point malfunction. The Administrator said that he was going to fix it."

"When was that?"

"Five minutes ago."

"Five minutes ago..." She mused. Subconsciously, she released Ician, who once again fell to the ground unceremoniously.

"Ouch, that hurt."

"Shut up." She said thoughtfully.

"So, decided whether you're going in or not?"

"Not yet. I'm thinking."

"You only have two options." He complained. "What is there to think about?"

"Taking a third option." She pointed at the Heavy, who had by now picked himself off the floor. "You. Grab him."

"Yes, Commander." Lowering his minigun carefully the the floor, he strode over to Ician and lifted him effortlessly.

"Hey, put me down!"

"No."

"Now," Protea instructed, "carry him to the door under the huge neon sign and throw him in."

"What?"

"If there are any traps... Well, you'll have to worry about that yourself."

"Um." He bit his lip. "Interesting choice?"

"Two options, eh?" She taunted.

"Actually..." He trailed off. "Not really. To be honest... you didn't have any to begin with."

"Huh?"

"Twilight, now!"

Everything happened at once.

To her left, one of the iron tiles lining the wall creaked ominously and fell with a bang. The RED Sniper, her right eye peering through the scope of a sniper rifle aimed squarely at her head, moved out in the shadows beyond the panel into the light.

The same bang echoed to her right. Protea whipped her head around just in time to see the rapidly spinning barrel of a minigun shove itself in her face.

Behind the counter, the RED Scout and Spy emerged from their refuge underneath the table and pointed their guns at the opposing Scout and Heavy.

A final crunch sounded from behind her. Protea turned around quickly and promptly cut herself on the sharpened edge of a fire axe.

"Victory through deceit," growled Pinkamena.

Protea blinked, shocked. As quickly as she could, she pulled herself back together and snarled, "Put your weapons away. Now. Or else..."

"Or else?" The Sniper asked.

"Or else..." Protea glanced at her Heavy. "... We'll kill your precious little commander."

"I don't suppose you're talking about me?" came a voice.

"What..." Slowly, Protea turned back to the counter. A monster, cloaked in the dismembered wings of a dozen changelings, smirked at her. A vulture on his shoulder smiled thinly.

"So. You are Commander Protea."

She gulped. "You... how? You were in..."

"The Heavy's grip?" He turned to the other Ician. "Trixie, you can drop the illusion now."

"Ugh, finally!" The characteristic spatial distortion of a dissolving illusion caught Protea's attention. Where the earth pony in the Heavy's grip had once been, there was now an azure-blue unicorn mare, struggling wildly.

"But... how?"

"Let Trixie go!" The unicorn shouted.

"No!" Protea snapped. She turned back to Ician. "What difference does it make? We'll just kill her instead."

"Twilight?" Ician asked.

"Yes?"

"Does Trixie still have that respawn point?"

"I never deactivated it, so I suppose so."

Ician nodded smugly at Protea. "Game, set, and match." He extended his hoof.

Protea sputtered incoherently. "Bu- I- he- you..."

"Yes, I think I've heard enough." He nodded at Pinkamena. "Take them away."

"Not so fast!" The changeling Scout warned, brandishing her scattergun. "I've still got a weapon!"

ping

The scattergun snapped out of her grip, flew a few meters away, and clattered to the floor.

"You were saying?" The Sniper asked dryly, a wisp of smoke curling upwards from the muzzle of her rifle.

"And don't even think about going for your minigun." Ician added, gesturing at the changeling Heavy.

Pinkamena prodded Protea. "Come on. Let's go."

"I... hate you all..." Protea seethed.

"One more thing, before you go." Ician said.

"What?" Protea thundered, her tone dripping with anger.

"That door outside? The one with the neon sign?" He leapt over the counter, trotted to her side, and lifted her chin with an armoured hoof. A knowing smile was plastered on his face. "It was never booby-trapped."

The revelation hit her like a brick. She stayed silent.

Ician withdrew his hoof and nodded, amused. "She understands. Pinkamena?"

"Yes?"

"Off to the prison with them. Except Protea."

"Where do you want to put her?"

He eyed the defeated changeling Commander. "The torture chamber."

A Fate Worse Than Chess

Humiliation.

Protea's hooves scraped painfully against the floor as Pinkamena dragged her, hindlegs-first, through the harshly-lit halls of the Administrator's base. The manacles on all four of her legs, their chains hanging loosely as they were, still chafed painfully against her exoskeleton. An anti-magic horn ring rested squarely on her forehead.

With an uncomfortable bump, her head knocked against a protrusion on the floor. "Ouch."

"What?" Pinkamena snapped.

"What was that?"

"What was what?"

"Whatever I knocked my head against."

"Hm?" Pinkamena paused briefly and turned around. "Ah. Directional marker."

"Which means?"

"We're going the right way." She resumed her journey, examining the leg-chains for good measure.

Protea coughed. "... Listen, um, Pinkamena?"

"What now?"

"I have an offer."

Her ears perked up. "I'm listening."

"You love massacres, don't you?"

"A little."

"Well, here is your opportunity. It's a lot easier to kill unarmed civilians than armed changelings, isn't it?"

Pinkamena remained silent.

Protea pressed on. "Think about it. Hanging right above your head is the very capital of the Empire, teeming with defenseless citizens. I'll even let you slaughter half of the entire changeling army, for good measure. If you'll just let me go now—"

"We're here."

"Excuse me?"

"We're here." Pinkamena repeated, derailing Protea's train of thought. Grabbing her by the torso, Pinkamena flung her unceremoniously onto the rough, hard floor of the torture chamber.

Protea gasped. "But... my offer!"

"I will never, ever, ever, betray my father." Pinkamena growled. She stormed up to Protea and, with an angry stomp, hammered her chain into a notch on the floor. "Remember that."

And she slammed the door.

Darkness flooded the room for a split second, and then with a brilliant flash of fluorescent the room was bathed in the same artificial light of the hallways.

Protea tested the chains. They were now stuck firmly to the floor. Alone by myself, with only my thoughts to keep me company. How long has it been since I was last alone?

A long time, in fact. But yet perhaps not all that long. A Commander could be surrounded by her troops and still be alone. But nonetheless, the sheer silence and tranquility unnerved her for some reason. How long is it going to be before—

The door swung open. Protea's head snapped up, and her eyes widened.

"You." She breathed.

"Good afternoon." Ician - his name had been burned, forever, into her memory - was clad in the same gruesome outfit of changeling wings she'd seen him in earlier, but now with a set of saddlebags by his side. The vulture on his shoulder was gone, too. In place of the victorious smirk she expected to see on his face, there was instead a thoughtful frown. "How are you feeling?"

"How are you expecting me to feel?" She snarled. "Happy, I suppose?"

Ician nodded. "Point taken." He sat down beside Protea and pulled out what looked like a little wooden box. "Can I talk to you?"

"Do I have a choice?"

"Not as a prisoner. As a person."

She paused. Could she?

"Or as a Commander, if you prefer." He offered.

"Why should I?" She asked balefully.

"Would you rather I treat you as a prisoner, then?" There was an edge in his tone.

"... No." She knew, if nothing else, when it was pointless to resist.

"Thank you." Ician set the box down on the floor between them and unfolded it.

Wait, unfolded it? No, it wasn't a box at all. It was a chessboard.

Ician spoke as he started pulling pieces out from within the hollow board. "So, I've heard about this system of command the changelings have."

"Oh?"

"Yes. And I've wondered... how are Commanders chosen?"

She blinked. "Excuse me?"

"Here in Equestria, our leaders - excluding the Royal family, of course - are selected based on a system of meritocracy." Ician set the last piece in place on the chessboard and spun it around, bringing the white king to Protea's right forehoof. "I'm a commander because I'm good at what I do. What about you?"

She huffed. "I am good at what I do, too."

Ician's eyes betrayed no amusement, no mocking. Only neutrality. "But is that why you were chosen?"

"What does that matter to you?" She snapped.

"Do you insist on knowing my motivations?" He replied coldly. "Or do I have to remind you that you are currently in a torture chamber?"

"Torture is not nearly enough to break me."

Ician sighed. "Then... how about a deal."

"... What?"

"A deal." He repeated. "We play a game of chess. Every time I take one of your pieces, you answer a question. Honestly. But don't worry." He tapped his black king piece idly. "The hard questions will be when I take your better pieces."

"And what do I get?" Protea demanded.

"Oh, it's simple." Ician stared straight at her. "If you win, I release you."

There was a brief pause as she assimilated what he had said.

"I don't believe you." She decided.

"Oh, come on now." Ician sighed. "Fine. In addition to that, I, too, will answer a question honestly every time you take one of my pieces. How does that sound?"

Protea glared at him. "How do I know you'll tell the truth?"

"How do I know you'll tell the truth?" He countered. "Mutual trust, Commander. Or mutual distrust, perhaps, as things stand." He waved at the white pieces. "Why don't you just make your move. Then we can continue talking."

"Ugh, fine." Protea pushed a pawn forward. "There. Your move."

"Mm." Ician stared at the board. "I see." In silence, he advanced his own pawn diagonally adjacent to Protea's.

She knew it was a poor tactic, but she wanted answers. Badly. In a flash, her white pawn stood where Ician's once had, the black gamepiece rolling on the ground. "Here. I've taken your pawn."

"So you have." He replied neutrally.

"You have to answer one of my questions."

"Indeed."

Protea took a deep breath. "... How did you manage to win that battle?"

Ician eyed her. "Which one?"

"The one you just commanded!" She snapped. "What other battles have you led?"

He chuckled. "You can only ask one question."

"That will be my second question, then." She looked Ician in the eyes, injecting as much hatred as she could into her glare. "Now, how did you manage to defeat me?"

"Oh, that was simple." He answered. "Just a little deception and classic misdirection. And weapon enhancements. And good mercenaries."

Protea's eye twitched. "You had eighteen of them. I had two thousand."

"It all balances out. As you've seen." He fiddled with another chess piece as he talked, setting it down on a different part of the board. "Besides, we had full control of the battlefield before you arrived, so it was easy to set up all the traps you fell into. You never just send troops in like that before gathering field intelligence."

"I..." A little spark of anger erupted. Without thinking, Protea made her next move. "Your tur-"

"Yours." Ician toppled one of her pieces - a pawn - with his knight. "Here's my question. How are Commanders chosen in the changeling army?"

He won't know if I lie. "Same as the Equestrian system. Meritocracy."

Ician sighed. "I thought you'd know better than to try and fool me. Do I have to explain it to you, or have your customs temporarily slipped your mind?"

She bristled. "You accuse me of deception?"

"Why not? If you're actually guilty, I see no reason to abstain." He gestured to the board. "It's your move."

Protea huffed, moving a piece up but refusing to concede the argument. "Prove it, then. Prove I'm lying."

"Very well. Let me explain your own military system to you." Ician advanced his bishop, but picked up his own black king as he played idly with it. "Every so often, there is a need for a Commander, whether it be through the retirement or death of an old one. A changeling is selected from among the newest hatchlings and given the bare minimum of love to survive a natural lifespan."

Her jaw fell slack. "How did you-"

"Whatever love is required would be obtained from pony captives or a few talented infiltrators into pony society. This changeling is made a commander, on the reasoning that a longer life translates to more experience." He glanced at Protea, a knowing smile on his lips. "Shall I go on?"

"No." She said curtly. "No more."

"Thank you." Ician manouevred his next piece into place. "Your move. And do try to be truthful next time."

Protea's right eye twitched involuntarily. "I will," she said through gritted teeth. She pushed one of her own pieces forward with excessive force.

"That's good." Ician calmly knocked over her piece and planted his knight in its place. "I'll have to take a rain check on that."

She blinked disbelievingly. A second later, her emotions kicked in, filling her to the brim and beyond. She opened her mouth, but through the choking anger in her throat no words came out.

"Yes?" Ician asked innocently.

"Just ask the damn question!" Protea snarled.

"No need to be so upset. I was just going to ask you how old you were."

"The army composition is three hundred – " She paused. "Wait, hold on. What did you say?"

"How old are you?" Ician repeated.

"Um... thirty-five."

"Wrong. Twenty-eight." He smiled at her. "Whatever happened to being truthful?"

"How do you know all this?" Protea demanded.

"I could call it a series of inspired guesses..." His smile widened. "Or perhaps I just know something you don't."

I'm going to find your spy, whoever he or she is, and rip their heart out! She wanted to scream. Instead, she said, "Maybe." But she was painfully aware that her face was contorted in anger.

Ician either didn't notice or didn't care, because he motioned to the board nonchalantly and mouthed 'your turn'.

I have a bad feeling about this.

The lights in the Administrator's base always struck Twilight as unnecessarily harsh. Just a bit too hard on the eyes.

Normally it wouldn't be a problem, because she rarely visited the base anyway and even if she did she wouldn't stay in there for very long. She'd come with a singular purpose - usually RED team business - and focus on it, to the exclusion of all else.

But now, trudging alone through the deathly silence of the dull corridors, she found herself wanting to think about anything but the battle she'd just fought. Which left her, unfortunately, with the substandard lighting.

Darn.

A thump, an enraged shout, and she realised that fate had seen fit to grant her a reprieve. Her eyes followed the noise to its point of origin.

It was a door. Plain as all the others she'd seen along the corridors, this one had only two details separating it from its brethren. One was a polished golden keyhole embedded prominently near the frame. The other was an elegantly carved stone sign with two words etched into its surface.

Torture Chamber, it read.

... Oh.

"What's the size of your army?!" A voice cried out from inside. A shouting match?

The response was muffled and nearly inaudible. Okay, maybe it's one-sided.

"No, you're lying! You have to be! You can't have just eighteen ponies!"

Again, the muffled and markedly calmer response. Definitely one-sided.

For a brief moment, Twilight hovered on the spot uncertainly. Then, out of sheer boredom and curiosity, she knocked.

No answer. Not even an indication that whoever was inside had heard. Of course.

Hesitantly, she pressed her ear to the keyhole. She almost fell over in surprise when the entire door swung open smoothly on well-oiled hinges.

"—eckmate." Somepony was saying.

"But... But... How?!" came the furious response.

"You were too focussed on taking my pieces."

Twilight leaned in further. Finally, she caught a proper glimpse of what was going on.

"Ician?" she asked.

Ician's ear twitched. He turned around slowly, a big smile on his face. "Princess! Welcome." Behind him, a chained changeling languished pathetically, staring at a chessboard set out between the two of them with evident disbelief.

"Protea, right?" Twilight offered.

The changeling said nothing, conveying the full force of a reply with a baleful glare at Twilight. She then turned her acid gaze to Ician. "How did she get in?"

"She... opened the door?" Ician gestured to the entrance. "Is this a trick question?"

"How did she get past a locked—" The changeling's eyes widened. "Oh sweet Chrysalis, that door was never locked, was it?"

"Not necessarily. Twilight may have a key." He pointed out.

"Does she?"

"No."

Twilight backed away. "Is this a bad time?"

"No, no, it's alright. I was just about to leave anyway." Ician stood up quickly and escorted Twilight out of the room. "I'll see you later!" he shouts to Protea.

"Oh no you—"

Ician slammed the door behind them. He drew a pink key out of his cloak, inserted it into the keyhole, and turned it sharply. "I'm sorry you had to see that, Princess."

"What did you do to her?"

"We played a game of chess, that's all." Ician pulled the key out of the hole and returned it to his cloak. "I think she overreacted, personally."

"Right..." He's not telling the full truth.

"Walk with me a little while, won't you Princess?" Ician began a forward stride back the way Twilight had come. "I'd like to show you something."

If there was anypony who could force her to think over today's battle, it would be Ician. "I'd love to, but—"

"It's something about Pinkie."

Twilight stopped abruptly. "... Lead the way."

The journey took them through a series of virtually identical corridors. By the time Ician stopped in front of perhaps the hundredth drab grey featureless door they'd passed, Twilight had lost her way at least five times.

"You know, I always thought this place would be more... lively. Chaotic." She remarked.

"Mm. So did I. But order in itself is just a dormant form of chaos." Ician pushed the door open and stepped in, motioning to Twilight to enter.

She did. It gave a strange sensation; after so long of treading the unyielding, clinically clean stone that made up most of the floor of the Administrator's base, she nearly fell over in surprise when her right forehoof sank three centimetres into a layer of dust.

"Watch your step." Ician added unnecessarily.

"What's there to watch?" Twilight withdrew her hoof quickly and shook off the dust.

"You're leaving a trail." He pointed at the floor. For the first time, she noticed two sets of hoofprints leading to the inner corner of the room, towards a set of rickety wooden shelves shrouded in relative darkness.

"Who else was in here?" Twilight asked.

"Me, and another before me." Ician made his way, step by dusty step, to the shelves. "Can you guess?"

"The Administrator?" She followed him carefully, flapping her wings in an effort to keep her hooves above the carpet of dust.

"Not quite."

"Then..." She inhaled sharply. "... Pinkie?"

Ician didn't answer. He lifted his armoured hoof off the dust-caked floor and slid across the similarly dust-caked shelves. It collided with a thick file. "This is it."

Twilight's horn came awash with a soft purple glow, encapsulating the file in her magic aura and floating it over to her. "'The Interview Files'?"

"Yes, Princess." Ician tapped the lower half of the file. "Brought here by Diana herself."

"You mean Pinkie?"

"You'll find, I believe, that they are discrete entities." He said. "Chapter four."

Twilight skimmed through the pages. "Is this a record of all the interviews?"

"Yes, including the one in which you were killed." Ician acknowledged. "But this account gives the full story."

"How much more of a story could there be?" The last page of chapter three flipped itself over. She began to read.

"From the Pyro herself? A lot." Ician stood by passively and watched Twilight. "You might be surprised to learn that Pinkie is no exception from the adage 'everypony is the hero of their own story.'"

"Oh, right, because I'm so sure she had a... oh my Celestia." She breathed. "The Elements of Harmony?"

"Yes. The Elements." He replied. "It gives a lot of insight into the Administrator's motives, don't you think?"

"This answers everything... the identical teams, Rainbow's disappearance, the hunt for the BLU Demomare... the base invasion." Her jaw hung slack. "I just can't believe it."

"You haven't reached Pinkie's own interview yet, have you?"

Still reeling from the revelation, Twilight answered quietly, "There's going to be another surprise, isn't there?"

Ician smiled. "What do you think?"

"... There's one thing I can't figure out, though," she continued as she read.

"What?"

"Why would the Administrator leave this on a shelf where anypony could just walk in and find it?"

"You did what?!" Diana shouted.

"Now, now, my dear, surely you didn't think I'd make you write that report for nothing, did you?" The Administrator, perched comfortably on his armchair, gave her a winning smile.

She didn't buy it. "It was supposed to be for your future servants," she ground out, "not your enemies!"

"Everypony in this base works for me, remember?"

"They're still your enemies!" She hissed.

"Not right now, they aren't." The Administrator swiveled on his chair, turning his focus to the rows of ever-present computer screens looking over his shoulder. "Besides, I have a plan. I always do."

"Now if only you'd tell me what it is." Diana muttered sourly.

"Trust me. After all, there's no way I'd ever—"

"— do something that would disadvantage himself without a good reason." Ician said. "If he left this out in the open for everypony to see, it's because he's up to something."

"How do we know if any of this is true, then?" Twilight waved the file in his face. "'The offspring of a love affair between schizophrenia and split-personality disorder'? It's totally bizarre!"

"With the Administrator, bizarreness is the best proof there is." Ician pushed the file back to her, smiling. "Either way, it matches up with what we know so far. Or at least what I know so far."

"How much do you know so far?"

"... Not very much." He admitted. "But enough to know that there's at least a seven-in-ten chance that what you've just read is completely factually accurate."

"That high?"

"Yes."

"... I guess I can't argue with the odds." Twilight moved to replace the file on the shelf, but Ician stopped her with a gentle prod of his armoured hoof.

"Take it with you." Ician gestured at the file. "You'll need to know everything in there."

"Won't the Administrator notice?"

"He already has. So don't bother." Ician tilted his head upwards. Twilight followed his gaze to a dimly blinking red light in the darkened corner of the ceiling.

She recoiled. "He's been watching us this whole time?"

"Of course. He's always watching us." He pointed at the camera. "So long as we're in the general vicinity of the base, consider yourself under surveillance."

Twilight swallowed. "So does that mean that—"

"Yes, he has cameras in the toilets. And the bathrooms. And the floor, though those have been disguised to look like directional markers." He shrugged. "He has the authority, after all. It is his base."

"I'm... not even surprised." She winced. "But I don't like the idea of being stared at while I'm doing my... business."

"Well, there's no privacy in this place." Ician set off towards the door. "You'll have to get used to that."

Twilight looked down at the file, then back at Ician's retreating form. She followed him wordlessly into the corridors.

The lighting didn't seem to bother her as much anymore.

The first thing Exos noticed when he awoke was the rain.

It came down in heavy cascades, bringing a steady pitter-patter as each volley met the roof of the empty wooden shack he and the Medic had holed themselves up in. Outside the sole window, he could see small rivers of water washing over the battleground, carrying with them the stench of death.

He sat up quickly and immediately collapsed back down onto the floorboards. A stabbing pain lanced through his side.

"Don't move," came the soft voice of the Medic. "You'll only make it worse."

"Yeah." Exos grunted. "Okay. Right." He let his body relax. "Did anything happen while I was asleep?"

"Nothing at all, Officer." The Medic knelt down beside him. The soothing sensation of a healing beam assuaged his throbbing side.

He let out a breath - one he hadn't realised he'd been holding - in a sigh of relief. "That's... a lot better. Thank you."

The Medic nodded dutifully. "My pleasure."

They sat there for a few minutes, lost in their own thoughts. Exos couldn't guess at what his companion's might be, but for himself, all he wanted right now was a little peace and quiet. The constant but monotonous hammering of the rain was dull enough to lull him back into the world of dre—

brzzt

He shot up, just one unfortunate millisecond before he remembered that his side was not yet fully healed. "Ow ow ow ow!"

"Officer! I told you not to do that!"

"Never mind about my wound." He looked around, wincing as the pain died away with agonising slowness. "What was that noise?"

The Medic's gaze travelled across the room. "I think it's your walkie-talkie."

"My..." The colour drained from his face. "Fetch... fetch it for me, please."

"Yes, Officer." The Medic moved to the nearest corner of the room. Amongst a pile of his other belongings - his armour, Exos noted, was still in pretty good condition - she drew out his faithful walkie-talkie, vibrating in the throes of a call, and brought it to him.

Exos answered the call with trepidation. "Officer Exos here."

"Exos!" Queen Chrysalis' voice snapped. "Why isn't Protea answering my calls?"

Oh dear.

The day had started so well. So well.

Queen Chrysalis, ruler of all changelings, had awoken in a good mood. After all, when an entire army was flying off to destroy one of the biggest thorns in your side since the beginning of the First Civil War, it wasn't difficult to keep a smile on your face.

So she'd waited for the news of victory. And waited. And waited. But the day wore on and she didn't receive a single call. She eventually got fed up enough to call her Commanders directly from her personal telephone, but even that didn't work. So she tried the next in line.

That worked. But she was beginning to wish it hadn't.

"... other Commanders have been killed. So has the army." Officer Exos was saying. "We two here, plus Commander Protea, are the only survivors."

"The only survivors?" She whispered, horrified.

"I'm... afraid so, my Queen." He hesitated. "What would you have us do now?"

"All of them..." She shook her head vigorously. Mourn them later. "Are you injured?"

"Slightly." Exos said.

"Very, my Queen." Another voice, presumably his Medic, chipped in.

Very, then. "Can you still move?"

"Yes." Over on the other end of the call, there was a sharp inhalation of breath. "Just not that quickly."

"Retreat to Canterlot. How long would that take?"

"Some time, I'm afraid." Exos admitted. "In my current state, it could be a day just to reach the foot of the mountain."

"I'll have troops waiting nearby." Chrysalis snapped. "Stay alive, Officer."

"Your wish is my command, my Queen." The line went dead.

For a long while, she simply stared at the device. Then she dropped it to the floor and crushed it under her hoof, grinding it to dust.

"Okay, Exos, calm down, calm down..." Exos took a deep breath and shut his eyes. "Just... calm down." He exhaled noisily. "Alright, I think I'm ready."

"We've no time to lose, Officer." The Medic stood by the door, her tail already drenched from the unrelenting rain. "We need to move out now to have even a chance of reaching Canterlot mountain before nightfall."

"I'm coming." He hobbled awkwardly over to the door, fidgeting in the armour that pressed all-too-hard against his wounds. "I just hope the Commander is well off."

"I'm sure we all do." The Medic replied with studied neutrality.

"I can't imagine..." He shuddered. "Hopefully she's not being subjected to a fate worse than..."

"Chess!" Protea fumed. "Chess! How did he manage to beat me in chess?"

The walls of the empty torture chamber, of course, offered no reply.

"I always win when I play against the other changelings!" she continued. "How could this happen?"

More silence.

"How?" She snarled. She wanted so badly to break something - anything! - but the chains kept her firmly anchored to the spot.

Not, of course, that there was anything to break anyway. This torture chamber was bare enough that nothing was even close to being within her reach.

She lapsed into silence. Clearly the room wasn't going to answer her, and even if it could she wasn't sure she'd want to know the answer. Better to just chalk it up to luck and leave it at that.

The wound in her ego mended itself slightly.

She heard a sound. Her ears perked up. Somepony was unlocking the door.

It swung open and Ician stepped in. "Good evening."

"So that's what time it is now?" she replied.

"Late evening, in fact." Ician trotted in, leaving the door open. "It's raining pretty heavily right now, too. I hear the Administrator summoned a storm to clean the battlefield. Good thing he remembered to keep it a rain of water instead of chocolate milk this time."

"'This time'?" Protea asked. "Since when has it rained chocolate milk?"

Ician dodged the question. "Anyway, I'm just here to tell you two things. One, I won't be around tomorrow. I have some, ah, business to take care of. So you'll be alone here. Sound good?"

"Anything to keep me away from you." She said acidly.

"Or I could leave Pinkamena here to babysit."

Protea grimaced. "No. Just... no."

"The second thing is that you won't be here for long. Everypony's decided that we'll be ransoming you back to Chrysalis."

"What, am I too much trouble here?" She snarked.

"Yes, you're using up too much of our breathable air. We need it for the useful ones." He twirled his armoured forehoof nonchalantly. "We're still thinking up a price. The general consensus, though, is below ten dollars."

"Below ten dollars." Protea deadpanned. Not going to believe that.

"I disagreed, though."

"Really."

"Yes." He set down his hoof. "I didn't think the oxygen you wasted was worth that much."

"Uh huh." She glared at him. "Do you have any other news, or are you here to rile me up?"

Ician smiled. "No other news. I just wanted to make sure that you didn't worry about me."

"I'd never worry about you."

"Of course you wouldn't." He chuckled. "Anyway, one last thing."

"What?"

He reached into his cloak and pulled out a white pawn piece. He smirked. "This is for you." With a flick of his hoof, the pawn fell to the floor, bouncing once and rolling the rest of the distance to Protea's hooves.

Protea looked at it, then at him. "What...?"

"Just something to keep you company." Without another word, he pivoted on his hooves and marched back to the door. He left the room quickly. The door slammed shut behind him, the locking mechanism sliding into place with a soft click.

Protea stared at the pawn. Was he trying to tell her something?

She decided that it didn't matter. All he'd given her was something to break.

She drifted peacefully off to sleep that night, lying contentedly beside a little mound of white dust. It felt almost like home.

Alicoronation Part I

The dawn came in little slivers of gold and orange, weaving a glorious tapestry in the cloudless sky. A fitting tribute to the passing of the sun's old warden, but hardly worthy of her.

From the window of her bunk, Twilight admired the beautiful sky with a tear in her eye. She had to admit that the Administrator had done a good job with it. But then again, 'good' always did pale in comparison to her beloved mentor.

As if sensing her thoughts, the whole sky went dark, save for the sole image of the sun. The celestial body began to squeeze and warp and shift, shrinking, then growing, then elongating, as if it were a rubber ball in the hooves of a three-year-old.

It stopped abruptly. With what sounded like the click of a light switch, it winked out of existence. Twilight gasped, clapping her hooves to her mouth in horror.

Then it reappeared. But this time, it was no longer the sun she knew. It was a cutie mark. A very, very familiar one.

The image of Princess Celestia's flank swirled into focus in Twilight's mind. "A perfect match," she murmured. "Administrator, I think I just might love you."

She stayed there for a little while longer, gazing wistfully through the windows of time. For just a few fleeting moments, she was a little foal again, scampering around Celestia's hooves with an insatiable spark of curiosity in her eyes...

Eventually, she tore her gaze away from the sun with reluctance. She didn't want to leave, but she had to anyway, even if only to honour the Princess' legacy.

She had been told to dress well. She figured her Sniper's vest was good enough. Her mentor wouldn't have had it any other way.

An animal, but also not. More than she seemed, but yet less. Exactly who everypony thought she was, and at the same time not quite.

At the moment, she was stuck in the dusty town just outside the shop near the Administrator's base, perched comfortably on the back of his best strategist. She was a vulture. Her name was Faye.

The situation seemed almost unreal. Her companion had managed to obliterate a force grossly outnumbering his own and eliminate or capture the entire changeling military leadership, all in a single day, with a plan so ridiculously complex and based on so many 'if's that she scarcely thought it possible.

And yet it had worked. He was a smart one. But he was still stupid enough to let her - her! - hang around him as a friend.

She tightened her clawed grip on Ician's cloaked back. Friends are always the ones who get you in the end.

Ician nudged her gently. "Hey. Claws off, Faye. It almost hurts."

She relaxed her grip. "Sorry,"

"It's alright. Just don't do it again." Ician squinted at the cutie mark in the sky. "The Princess is a bit late, don't you think?"

"You did tell her to dress up." Faye reminded him.

"Still, that shouldn't keep her for this long." He mused.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the door to the Administrator's base swing open with a soft creak. A figure, illuminated brightly under the glare of the neon sign, stepped through the opening and strode towards them.

"... It seems that it did." She cocked her head to the side. "And yet perhaps not."

"You have got to stop being so enigmatic. I mean, I enjoy it on occasion too, but..." Ician turned his attention to the door. "... Now I see what you mean."

"Not what you meant by 'dress well', is it?"

"No. No, it isn't." Ician frowned. "It isn't at all." He strode forward quickly, a hint of aggressiveness in his posture.

Twilight noticed him before he had a chance to speak. "Ician."

"Princess." He bowed slightly. "May I ask why you are not in proper attire?"

"This is proper attire." She replied simply.

"Not for a royal event, Princess, and you know it." Ician answered, a calm but firm inflection to his voice. "I told you that this will be your official coronation as the monarch of the Solar Empire. Surely you realise that your sniper's vest is not suitably formal for such a function."

"I'm not going to waste my time dressing up as somepony I'm not." Twilight snapped. "This is who I am. Sniper for the Royal Equestrian Division, under the command of the Princess of the Empire."

"You are the Princess of the Empire now." Ician countered.

"But I am still the Sniper." She retorted. "And I don't intend for anypony to forget it."

Ician fell silent. For a few moments, his gaze was levelled at Twilight's face, though he didn't seem to be looking at her so much as through her. Faye noted his minute movements - the slight incline of his head, the subtle twitching of his armoured forehoof, the nearly imperceptible shiver running through his back...

"... Very well." He said at last. "If you have fixed your mind on this course of action, I can do nothing to dissuade you. But be warned that there are consequences for every action."

"I know." Twilight walked past him, towards the line of wooden buildings. "No matter what I do, there will be consequences. There always have been." She whipped her head around, staring Ician in the eye. "I thought you, of all ponies, would know."

He tilted his head to one side, taken aback. "Princess...?"

Faye looked between the two. Well... this is getting interesting.

Twilight averted her gaze. Softly, she muttered, "Never mind. Forget I said anything."

Ician scowled. "There's something you're hiding from me." He said sternly. "What is it?"

"... Nothing." She mumbled.

"I see." Ician advanced towards her, slowing his pace as he reached her side. He beckoned towards her. "Come, we'll talk while we walk. The pegasus carriage is some ways away yet."

"Why isn't it here?" Twilight asked, falling into step beside him and putting Faye out of her range of vision. Good.

"The Administrator felt that he didn't want to drop his anti-flight spell just yet." He said. "For once, I actually agree with him."

"What's his reason?"

"While we're away, Princess, he'll be conducting negotiations for Protea's ransom to Queen Chrysalis." Ician explained. The tiniest little bit of excitement appeared in his stride.

"Oh." Twilight paused. "How much is she worth?"

"No idea, really." Ician admitted. "The Administrator will be gauging it off of Chrysalis' reactions. But we're gunning for as much as possible."

"Why don't we just keep her prisoner?" Twilight suggested. "That'll leave the changelings without a commander."

"Not for long." Ician explained. Faye felt his posture shifting slightly, straightening itself out. Ah. Time for a test.

"What do you mean?"

"Surely, Princess," he said suavely, "you can figure it out."

"She..." Twilight turned to him, then Faye, a deep frown of contemplation on her face. "She'll be... replaced?"

"Correct." Ician nodded.

"But they'll be leaderless in the meantime, won't they?"

"Princess." Ician said curtly. "A strategist must always predict what an enemy is going to do. The best way to do that is to put yourself in their shoes. What would you do if your army was leaderless?"

"I would... choose a new leader?"

"Indeed." He nodded. "And what kind of leader will you pick?"

"Um..." She hesitated. "... somepony who's good at strategy?"

"Yes." Even though Faye couldn't see his face from this angle, she could almost feel his grin. "But beyond that? Do you have any preferences for strategic choices? Should the leader be aggressive or defensive? Preferring force of numbers to trickery, or vice versa? Cautious or immediately opportunistic?"

"I... don't know." She rolled her eyes. "How could you expect me to come up with an answer on the spot? Can't I just go with whoever is the smartest?"

"Intelligence is subjective, Princess." Ician said. "But that's not the point, see. If even you don't know what you want, how are we supposed to know what Chrysalis wants? We wouldn't know what kind of enemy we would be facing."

Twilight frowned. "But it's not like we know that even if we release Protea."

"Ah, but we won't need to know what she wants." He answered smugly. "We already know what she has. That being Protea, of course."

Twilight blinked. "Do we already know so much about Protea's fighting style?"

"Well... I do, at any rate. I'll share it with you another time, Princess." He dropped the smile from his face. "The more we know about their commander, the easier the complete obliteration of the enemy will be."

"Complete... obliteration?" Faye could hear the horror in Twilight's voice. "Isn't that too harsh?"

"It's them or us, Princess." Ician said, in a matter-of-fact tone. "They're fighting for survival. So are we. Neither of us are going to back down until the very end."

"But there has to be another way." She insisted.

The corners of Faye's mouth curved slightly upwards. Her eyes left Twilight and shifted over to Ician. A few moments of silence passed, with the former waiting for a response and the latter unwilling to give it.

"Nopony but you would approve, Princess." He said at last.

"Huh?" In the interim period of quiet, Twilight had evidently fallen into her own thoughts. Ician speaking served to snap her out of it. "What do you mean?"

"The changelings are responsible for the deaths of both Princess Celestia and Luna, amongst many others, as well as the sacking of Canterlot." Ician shook his head sadly. "The world doesn't forgive and forget. As a leader, it is your duty to represent the will of the ponies."

"I won't." Twilight declared. "Not if it means killing thousands of changelings who are only trying to survive."

For a brief moment, the half of Ician's mouth that Faye could see from her vantage point trembled in a barely suppressed smile. "Is that so?"

"Yes." She stated.

"You would go against the will of the public?"

"This isn't the New Lunar Republic, you know." Twilight retorted. "Whether or not they want me to do the right thing, I'm going to do it. They can't vote me out of office. How are they going to force me to—"

"Coup d'état." Ician murmured.

"... Oh." Twilight stared down at her hooves. "Would... would they really do that?"

"I can't give a guarantee, but I don't like the odds."

"Too high?" She asked glumly.

"No. I don't know what they are." Ician replied. "And to me, that's a lot more frightening."

Twilight pursed her lips, but said nothing more. They walked in silence. Faye looked between the two of them, thankful that neither were watching her. They'd probably notice the wide grin on her face.

Finally.

It was at the end of the outermost copy of the town the Administrator had made that Twilight got the impression that the journey was nearly over at last.

Ician confirmed her suspicions. "We're almost there, Princess."

Twilight nodded. She didn't particularly feel like saying anything.

"You should know, however," Ician continued, undeterred, "that the pegasus carriage isn't being drawn by Imperial pegasi."

"Oh?" She asked absently. Just ahead was the covered carriage Ician was talking about, draped in the royal yellow and white of the Solar Empire. It reminded her a little of Trixie's trailer. That made her feel better.

It didn't have any pegasi hitched up to it, though. That was strange. Maybe they're off for a break.

"Yes, as a gesture of new friendship between the Empire and the Republic, Lunar pegasi will be drawing the Solar carriage, and vice-versa. It was suggested by Princess Cadance."

"That's good." Twilight said. "I mean, she trusts me, right?"

"Well... to an extent." Ician conceded. "But yes, this is a good start for international relations. I'm quite optimistic about today's post-coronation negotiations." He eyed the carriage. "Speaking of which, we can leave as soon as our carriage-puller gets here. I wonder where they—"

"ICIAN!" came a holler to their right.

Ician's ears twitched. "Oh dear."

Well, I wonder who that could be. Twilight turned. Marching towards her group with an angry glint in her eyes and steam practically billowing out of her ears was a fully armoured lunar guardsmare. Not just any lunar guardsmare, though; Twilight recognised the bat wings and sharp fangs from her early lessons in the Royal Equestrian Division. Luna's elite.

The guardsmare levelled an accusatory hoof at Ician. "What are you doing, commander? Did you defect? Why are you with... her?"

Ician stepped towards her, lifting his own hoof to gently nudge hers away. "Midnight, this isn't what you think."

"Fine." She stared him down defiantly. "Tell me, then. What's going on?"

"You two know each other?" Twilight asked. She regretted it immediately afterwards, when the guardsmare shot her a glance so acidic that it could dissolve a hole through solid metal.

"Yes." Ician answered. "Recall when I mentioned that I had spent some time in the Republic. She is a relic of that time."

"A relic?" She snarled. "Is that how long ago it was to you?"

"I've moved on, Midnight." He waved an armoured hoof in the air. "As will both the Empire and the Republic, by the end of today. We fight as one against the new threat."

"That's no excuse for siding with them before the end of today." The guardsmare snapped, taking a menacing step towards him.

Ician took one backwards in turn. "I did not. I am not working for her."

The guardsmare blinked. "You're not?"

Twilight raised an eyebrow. "You're not?"

"No I'm not, Princess." He chided. He didn't look at her, but his vulture did all the looking for him, with a little bit of circumstantial mirth injected into its gaze. "You forget. At the moment, I am the Administrator's strategist. And he's recommending me for the post of Supreme Commander of the United Equestrian Army, as soon as it's formed. I don't have any strict relation to the Empire."

"But you've been advising me since we met." Twilight pointed out.

"Not in any official capacity. Besides, I've been working towards peace." He smiled at the guardsmare. "Which is also in the interests of the New Lunar Republic. That's the job description." He leaned in, pushing her chin up so she was staring directly at him. "It's not to harm the Empire. It's to help the Republic. And I've done it."

He pulled his hoof away, pivoting on the spot and striding towards the carriage. "Not that any of it matters right now. Your sole mission, Midnight, is to get us to the rendezvous location. And I don't recall disobeying orders to be part of your training."

The guardsmare fumed. "... Yes, sir," she ground out through gritted teeth.

Twilight glanced at Ician. Well... I don't quite know what to think. She headed to the guardsmare.

"What do you want?" The latter asked, in a voice dripping with hostility.

Twilight forced a smile. "Look, I know we didn't get off to a great start, but maybe we can start over."

The guardsmare just grunted.

The forced smile remained, but Twilight had to expend twice as much effort to keep it that way. She extended a hoof with what she hoped came off as pleasantness. "My name's Twilight Sparkle. What's yours?"

"... Just get into the carriage." She muttered. Without another word, she stalked off to hook herself up.

Twilight blinked. She sighed, shaking her head, as she finally let the emotionally-draining smile drop. She made her way over to the carriage doors.

Ician was already there. He pulled the door open for her and bowed. "After you, Princess."

"Thanks." She said reflexively, stepping into the carriage. It occurred to her shortly afterwards that gratitude wasn't exactly high up on the list of emotions she wanted to convey to him.

No, curiosity was at the top. She'd get around to that during the ride.

Though the outside of the carriage was considerably like Trixie's - somepony in the palace had probably taken note of her refusal to travel in any other vehicle - the inside was nothing like it. It was slightly smaller than the trailer she'd become used to, and in the place of all the old, used furniture stood a number of identical new, more advanced and more comfortable models, all draped in royal colours and arranged in a circle around the room.

It felt nothing like home. Twilight fidgeted awkwardly, trying to get used to the place as she sat down on the nearest chair. She almost fell off of it when the entire room jerked suddenly, signalling their takeoff.

Ician was relatively unaffected. Holding his position briefly as the carriage shuddered, he waited for the flight to smoothen out and then sauntered to the seat at the far end of the room. He sat down and said, "Make yourself comfortable, Princess. We'll be here for a while."

"Alright." Twilight settled slowly into her seat. It was cushioned, she noticed. Maybe not the hard wood she'd grown to love, but at least it was comfortable. "Can I ask you a few questions?"

"Certainly, Princess."

"Okay, well..." She fell silent, organising her thoughts. "How do you know that lunar guard? She called you 'commander'."

"Yes, indeed, she did." Ician replied. "I worked as a commander under Princess Luna for a time. Of course, not anymore."

"How long ago was that?" She questioned.

"Well... I forget when exactly." Ician brought a hoof to his chin in contemplation. "Why do you ask?"

"Just... curious, I guess." Twilight said. "How about a rough estimate?"

He blinked at her. Smiling sadly, he closed his eyes and answered, "A few days ago, Princess."

"Why didn't you tell me this sooner?" She demanded.

"Because it would only have increased your distrust of me." Ician shrugged. "Unless you're saying this knowledge didn't affect your view of me in the slightest?"

"Yeah, well, hiding it from me didn't exactly help either." Twilight pointed out.

"Ah, but it would have worked if not for sheer bad luck." He lamented, his mouth curving downwards forlornly.

"Ician, you're not supposed to be keeping things from me." Her tone wasn't as stern as it should have been, she realised.

"Princess," he said, "let me be candid here."

"It's about time." Twilight muttered.

He ignored her. "At times, there are things that it is better for a Princess not to know."

Okay, now I know that's not true. She stood up, irritated. "I'm the Princess. I'm supposed to know everything so I can make a decision. A proper decision, not one of those half-hearted ones that ends up making a disaster."

"Indeed, Princess." Ician agreed, surprisingly. It wasn't to last, of course. "You must know everything that is necessary for you to make the correct decision. But if there is something that, if known, would prevent you from making the correct decision, then is it not the duty of any loyal official to keep that knowledge from you?"

"I don't think any knowledge like that exists." Twilight challenged. "Give me an example."

"Very well." Ician tapped his chest gently. "My time in the army of the Republic."

There was a brief pause. Twilight eventually broke it with the knock of her hoof connecting with her face. "That's what I'm telling you you should have told me."

"And what I'm telling you shouldn't have been known." He said smoothly. "I can tell you now that I will do my level best for Equestria. And I can also tell you that it will be enough to win." Sitting back, he gave her a calm smile. "Do you trust me?"

"No." Her reply was obvious. And immediate.

"And why not?"

"Because... you hid stuff from me!"

"Let's pretend, for a moment, that I didn't." Ician stood up and began a slow, contemplative walk around the room. "If you knew from the beginning that I was a recently retired lunar commander, what would you think?"

"Midnight didn't seem to think you'd retired." Twilight countered.

"Yes, well. I didn't tender an official resignation, you see. It was part of a decision to make the Republic more accepting of my appointment of Supreme Commander."

"That's the other thing!" Twilight complained. "Everything you do is always part of some big plan! And you always have ulterior motives, too. How is anypony supposed to trust you?"

"Because they don't know I have an ulterior motive. Like I said, Princess, there are sometimes things it is better for certain ponies not to know."

"Better for you, or better for them?" She snapped.

"Better for Equestria." He answered promptly. "You have such little faith in me."

"You already know why." Twilight growled, fixing him with an angry stare.

"I'm sorry, but some of this is simply necessary." Ician paused, hesitating, then continued, "You'll just have to trust me."

"... I can't." She replied at last.

"What will it take?"

What I've been asking for the whole time. "The truth."

"I've already been telling you the—"

She cut him off with a wave of her hoof. "The full truth."

That shut him up. He stopped dead in his tracks, opened his mouth, then promptly closed it. His armoured forehoof raised itself into the air.

"Well?"

"... The... full... truth?" He inquired with excessive slowness.

"Yes. The full truth." She repeated, her voice tinged with impatience.

"And then you'll trust me?"

"So long as what you tell me is really the full truth." Twilight answered carefully.

Ician shook his head. "And you can immediately tell if what I say is truth? I think not."

"I'll just hear it and decide how believable it is."

As soon as she uttered the word 'believable', Ician chuckled and, finishing the round around the room he'd started, sat back down in his chair. "That's hardly a fair estimate. Truth is stranger than fiction."

Twilight bristled. "Look, if you want to have a chance at earning my trust, this is it."

"No, Princess. Not a chance," he said.

"So you'd rather me distrust you forever?" All her curiosity turned to anger. She stood up abruptly, scowling at him. "If that's the case, then..."

"You misunderstand me." Ician held up his armoured forehoof, signalling that he had not yet finished. "I mean that I don't just want a chance. I want a guarantee."

The anger draining away, Twilight lowered herself slowly back onto her seat. "A... guarantee."

"Yes. A guarantee of your trust." He leaned forward. The vulture flapped its wings briefly, hopping off his back and onto the back of the chair. "If I guarantee the truth, can you guarantee your trust?"

"Well, obviously!" She threw her hooves up in the air in frustration. "But if the truth is stranger than fiction, how am I supposed to know whether or not you're lying?"

"There's no way to tell." Ician shrugged. "Not immediately, at least. On a long-term basis, you can observe my actions and line them up with my supposed motives. But that could take a long time, Months, years, even decades, as unlikely as it sounds." He stared straight into her eyes and smiled a broad smile. "You'll just have to trust me."

Twilight sighed. "You're really difficult to work with, you know that?"

"I can only hope it becomes easier after this." He stood up sharply, treading the circumference of the circle of chairs and coming to a stop at the seat next to hers. "Let me tell you a story, Princess. A story of innocence, a story of embitterment, of love, of death, of anger, and of regret."

She raised an eyebrow. "That's a little too dramatic, don't you think?"

"Hush." Ician said sternly, but his voice was laced with mirth. "I'm about to tell you something I haven't told anypony before. It's a little harrowing. At least let me have this much."

"Fine, fine." Twilight gestured to him to continue.

"This," he went on, but this time with much more gravity to his words, "is my story."

Dianegotiations

pop

Driven by instinct, Diana's eyes snapped open, just in time for a thin sheet of parchment to float down from the ceiling and land, perfectly perched, on her nose.

She sat up. To her disoriented mind, the surroundings were all profoundly foreign. She was looking down at a plain grey-tiled floor along which several beds were lined, all with sleeping ponies - and a zebra, and a dragon - in them. That was enough to snap her fully out of her sleep-addled state.

It was the BLU team dormitory. And she'd been sleeping atop the double-decker bed in the corner, as she always did. Why she kept waking up surprised she might never know; this was at least the fifth time this month the Administrator had decided to send her what he called a 'PM'.

"It stands for Private Message," he'd answered upon her inquiry a few days ago. "It'll become all the rage when the Internet and handphones are invented, trust me."

She had decided to drop the issue there. Mostly because she already knew where it would lead - that was to say, five kilometres into the middle of Nowhere.

Shaking the rest of the sleep out of her eyes, she dipped her head forward and let the parchment drift down onto the mattress. For a moment, she kept her gaze averted; she had a feeling she wouldn't like what it said. But after a few heartbeats she sighed and got to reading.

As was by now the norm, it was only one word long. But it told Diana all she needed to know.

Negotiation, it read.

Quietly, she ducked under the thin sheet that she called her blanket and waited, closing her eyes. When she reopened them, her hooves were on metal and her eyes were on her flamethrower. She reached her hoof out and turned on the armoury lights.

If she was going to deal with a god, she may as well be prepared.

"You owe me a new pawn," were the words that pulled Protea into the waking world.

"Huh?" She reached out a chitinous hoof, her eyelids slowly lifting. "Huzzat?"

"A pawn." The voice repeated. Protea's eyes cracked open fully to see the BLU Pyro, wearing all of her usual outfit except for her mask. Strangely enough, the curly mane she'd come to associate with the face of death was today straight, cascading down past her shoulders like a waterfall.

"And why?" She got up slowly, giving her limbs a little stretch, though the chafing chains were enough to remind her not to stretch too much.

Without a word, the Pyro pointed at the right side of her face. Protea lifted her hoof and touched it to her cheek. It was dusty. Drawing it away revealed the dust to be white.

Oh, right.

"That's Ician's pawn," she answered, letting a little spite seep into her tone.

The Pyro raised an eyebrow. "Why would it be his?"

"It's his chess set, isn't it?"

"It's mine. He borrowed it from me." The Pyro shook her head. "I've never even seen the guy play chess."

Protea's jaw dropped, ever so slightly. "But..."

"Don't care. I'll ask Chrysalis for one when I see her." She slipped a hoof around Protea's chains and started pulling them - and Protea along with them - to the door. "As it happens, she'd rather you waste her air than ours."

"Wait." The gears in her head began to turn. "You're ransoming me?"

"Yes. And Chrysalis agreed to it." The Pyro chuckled. "You're lucky that you've caught Ician's interest. He argued that we need the money, but everypony knows he just wants someone to face off against."

Protea let out a harsh laugh. "Since when does he ever consider me his equal?"

"Oh, no, he isn't looking for an equal," came the bland response. "He's just looking for someone to beat."

She heard the angry growl emerging from her throat before she realised she was doing it. "Hah! Good luck to him, then. If it's a beating he wants... I'll be happy to oblige."

"I'll be sure to tell him that. He'll be so happy to know that you can acknowledge your weaknesses."

Protea almost let a growl out again, but this time she kept it down. There really wasn't much of a point arguing with someone like the Pyro, even if she did for some reason seem much more intelligent than she originally seemed.

In the absence of any legitimate evidence, Protea thought sourly, I'll just assume her intelligence is limited to snappy comebacks.

They walked in silence for a while. Or rather, the Pyro walked in silence for a while and dragged Protea along for the ride. Her jailor didn't seem particularly willing to talk. If their positions were reversed, Protea would've taken the opportunity to gloat a little bit. Nothing better to break an enemy than talking, after all. That, and they needed to know exactly how they lost.

Exactly how I'm better than them.

But she was the one who'd lost now, wasn't she? No matter. She'd be back in command in no time. And when that happened, she'd grind them to dust.

Releasing her was a mistake. She'd prove it.

This is a waste of time. We're a killing machine, not a diplomat.

Patience. The Administrator wants to put on a show. As the lead actor, we have to play our part.

I just wish we could be nicer...

Don't we all. Sadly, this world isn't built for niceties. We've got deception to spread and orders to carry out.

Do we get to kill the god?

Absolutely. But not now.

Fine. I can be patient.

Really?

Even I am not sure if that's meant to be sarcastic or innocent.

"Land. Now."

"Now, my Queen? We're still a ways away."

"Anti-flight zone. We land here."

"Yes, my Queen."

Chrysalis looked out of the window of her carriage. The morning sun hadn't risen very far above the horizon yet, casting long shadows across a dusty street, flanked by dusty buildings and... dusty weapons. Grenade launchers, revolvers and shotguns alike were strewn across the battlefield, but she couldn't see a single body.

For a battle they'd supposedly lost, it certainly didn't look the part. It was almost clinical, how clean everything was. But the weapons... those were theirs.

Her carriage set down at the very edge of the town. Her guard opened the door for her. She stepped out onto the dust and gathered all four of the changelings she had brought close to her side. Her horn shimmered in the throes of a spell, coalescing the magic into a shield bubble around the five of them. She would take no chances. The Administrator was a sneaky one. She would not put assassination past him.

Moving cautiously, she set first hoof into the outer boundary of the anti-flight zone. She braced for a trap. None came. She slowly moved forward to the building at the centre of the dusty town, keeping her guards close by and behind her. They wouldn't survive a magical attack. She would. And when she shredded through whatever resistance had been set up to oppose her, she didn't want her children in the way.

But, surprisingly, the Administrator had nothing prepared. Every careful step was met with nothing but the gentle whistling of the wind on her shield. She walked the full length of the ambush-prone street, noting every little indentation in the dust where sentry guns had sat, carbon scoring on magically-reinforced wood where rockets had struck, and minigun shells littered around the sand. That could easily have been what she met today. But it wasn't.

As far as it went with the Administrator, this was a very generous gesture of goodwill.

She reached the doorframe of the central building (which was long missing its door) and entered first. At the far end of the otherwise empty room, Protea lay on the ground, bound in chains. Holding the leash was the pony she recognised as the BLU Pyro. Both of them looked up at her entry. The Pyro stood up and approached her, hooves empty. As the changeling guards entered the room behind Chrysalis, the Pyro offered her a hoof in greeting.

"Good morning, your majesty." She waited. Chrysalis was disinclined to offer her own hoof. The Pyro kept waiting, her hoof hovering in the air, until at last she sighed and put it down. "Very well. I don't want this to last any longer than it has to either."

"How much do you want for her freedom?" Chrysalis asked.

"All the food stores and armoury stockpiles in Canterlot."

"Done." Chrysalis pushed past her and telekinetically pulled a very surprised Protea into her shield. "Where is the key?"

"Done?" Protea asked in horror.

"Really." The Pyro arched her eyebrow up high, almost so high that it threatened to disappear into her dull pink mane.

"Yes, really." Chrysalis took Protea carefully around her, protecting Protea with both the shield and her body. "I'm being generous. I could just take her and leave."

"And I'd kill her and all your guards before you do." The Pyro tapped a signalling hoof on the floor. Tendrils of chaos magic burst out from the walls and popped her shield bubble like a balloon, ear-piercing sound and all. "And then you'd kill me, and then I'd respawn. So. Do we have a deal?"

"Yes, yes, we have a deal." Chrysalis snorted derisively. She could barely believe the audacity of this common pony. As if she could actually stand up to a god! She boasted about the Administrator's exploits as if they were her own and made threats she had no way of backing up. But Chrysalis had no time to waste today, and she didn't want to fight battles she might lose - no matter how unlikely. "Give me the key."

"Before that, I want a guarantee." The Pyro fixed her with a steely gaze. "I'm holding her until you hoof over everything you promised."

"And then what am I supposed to do if you refuse to return her?" Chrysalis challenged. "The key, now, before I annihilate you."

"Sorry, but no," she said. She pulled out a phone - one of her commander's, Chrysalis noted in anger - and tossed it over to her. "Order the transfer now. We'll wait until all the resources are deposited outside Midnight Castle. I know your drones are efficient. It will take a day at most."

"I am a Queen," Chrysalis hissed. "I have duties to attend to!"

The Pyro shrugged. "I'm afraid those duties will have to wait."

"I will wait for no mortal!" Chrysalis roared. She stamped her hooves ferociously, crackling green lightning arcing down her horn into her eyes.

Something popped behind her, sounding all the world like a party popper and a chorus of party horns. She whipped around, and suddenly she found herself staring into mismatched eyes.

"Well," the Administrator cooed, "it's a good thing I'm here, then."

He savoured the wonderful, delicious surprise on Chrysalis' face. It was one for the books, definitely. He snapped his fingers, grabbed the camera that appeared on command, and snapped the scene into an immortal picture. Glorious.

"You!" Chrysalis snapped. Oh, how quickly that surprise morphed into rage. She'd always had a curious propensity for switching between emotions like she did between disguises. No wonder she was the changeling Queen.

"Yes, me," the Administrator crowed. He summoned a picture album, grabbed the image that his camera printed out, and stuck it onto the first page with some of his naturally sticky spit. (Naturally sticky only when he wanted, of course.) He shoved the album into Chrysalis' face. "It's been too long since we've met, Chryssy. Too long! Do you know how long? Cameras weren't even invented back then!" He snapped the album shut and banished it into the void. "Truly, those were the dark ages."

"What do you want?" she demanded without pause.

The Administrator tutted. "You never had much patience, my dear. Surely you have time to sit down and share a cup of tea with an old brother?"

"You are no brother of mine," she snarled.

"Ah well." He snapped his fingers. He felt a huge surge of magic leave him. But the space around him was totally tranquil. Chrysalis waited, horn raised and crackling with magic, but of course nothing happened as far as she knew.

"What happened?" she asked aggressively. "I felt that magic. What did you do?"

"Oh, not much," he said nonchalantly, waving his bear paw in the most nonchalant manner. "I just teleported all the food stores and armoury stockpiles in Canterlot to the doorstep of Midnight Castle."

She gasped. "You did what?!"

snap

Great shot. The Administrator put away the quick-summon camera and, theatrically, gave her yet another one of his nonchalant gestures - this one the patented Administrator's Nonchalant Shrug™. "You did agree to it, did you not? Now you don't have to wait. It's a win-win!"

She growled. "You had no right-"

"I had every right," he said cheerfully. "Because you agreed to it. Unless, of course, you weren't actually planning to give those things to us." He leaned in close to Chrysalis, until their eyeballs were almost touching, and gave her what he was sure was the most intense stare of her life. "And you wouldn't do anything like that, would you?"

She glared back. But she didn't say a word.

"Now," he said quietly, "you could try to kill me. You could even succeed, since I just used up more than half of my magic reserves. But before that, Pinkie will kill Protea and your five nameless soldiers, and I will teleport to Canterlot and blast every last changeling there into chitinous dust." He grinned evilly, pulled away, and booped Chrysalis contemptuously on the nose. "And wouldn't that be a shame?"

She fumed. Anger burned so brightly in her eyes that the Administrator briefly wondered if she would burst into flame. Wouldn't that be interesting? He hadn't seen a case of spontaneous combustion for a thousand years. He would like to, certainly. That was one interesting pony.

But she didn't say a word.

"I'm glad that we've managed to reach an understanding." He patted her happily on the head. "Well, adios! Here's the key." He snapped his fingers, and a key popped into existence just over Chrysalis' head, dropping neatly onto her horn. "And here's your ticket home. Ta-ta!" He snapped his fingers again. Chrysalis and Co. disappeared in a flash of white magic, never to be seen again for maybe the next few days until another invasion came along and she took her unending wrath out on some poor hapless ponies.

Over at the end of the room, in the Chrysalis-less corner he hadn't been paying attention to, Diana emerged from the darkness and swatted a few writhing chaos tentacles out of her way. "I wish you'd told me that you'd be coming."

"Well, then it wouldn't have been a surprise, would it?" He clapped his hands, re-summoning the album and showing it to her. "Two great pictures I wouldn't have gotten if you'd threatened dear Chryssy with my appearance."

"You didn't need to come, you know," she said. "I could've handled it on my own."

"Oh, doubtlessly so, my little pony." The Administrator waved his paw, and the book disappeared again. "But I needed to be here, you see. Now Chrysalis knows the supplies were an important part of this deal."

Diane raised an eyebrow. "Are they?"

He cackled. "Not at all."

It was thoroughly undignifying to be treated in the way the Administrator had just treated her. Only four entities could have done it, two of whom were dead and one of whom was imprisoned in stone far, far away. She was not used to such treatment. She felt like a child.

But it was worth it. All five of her children had survived. And as the key floated down to the pile of chains, encased in a sickly green aura, she freed her captured child at last and returned her to the fold.

"My Queen," Protea gasped as the chains fell away. She dropped into a low bow. "I am sorry. I cost you all the stockpiles in Canterlot. It was a terrible waste."

"It was worth it," Chrysalis affirmed. Her horn flashed, pulling Protea up into a standing position. "You are the only one of my commanders left. You are in charge of the armies."

"Yes, my Queen."

"Our next attack is on Midnight Castle." She gazed down at her Supreme Commander, eyes full of steel. "Make them pay."

"Yes, my Queen."

Alicoronation Part II

It seemed too fantastical to be true. Twilight couldn't believe his story. She couldn't believe that he expected her to believe it.

But obviously he did. She could see it in the way he gazed at her, head tilted sincerely and eyes opened expectantly wide. It wasn't a look she expected to see on the eternally paranoid tactician's face.

"That's ridiculous," she said.

"Ah." Ician nodded. "But it's true."

"It's too ridiculous to be true."

He nodded again. "That's precisely why it has to be the truth. I could easily have come up with a more believable story."

"But then you wouldn't have been able to argue that it was believable by virtue of how unbelievable it was," she countered.

Ician stared. And then he laughed. It was coarse and grating, but it wasn't mocking or contemptuous or anything of the sort. It was genuinely excited. "See, Princess," he said, "this is why Celestia chose you as her successor."

"Wait, what?" Twilight asked, confused. "Why?"

"Because you're a quick study." He trotted to the edge of the carriage and looked out the window. "You'll have time to think it over later. We're almost there."

She joined him at the window. Beyond them, Midnight Castle sprawled out near-endlessly, a blue-black twisting labyrinth of metal and concrete. They were gradually approaching the immense walls, flashing with spotlights and lined with guard towers, and below them was a huge mass of moving soldiers. Both Imperial and Republic.

"See, down there?" Ician gestured down to the soldiers. "That's the Brigade of Dawn. And that one is the Brigade of Light. Those two clumps in dark armour are Dusk and Midnight Brigades."

Twilight squinted down into the shifting morass of pastel. Even her Sniper's vision wasn't good enough to make out the details from that far. "What are they doing?"

"Moving supplies, I think." Ician backed away from the window and found his way back to a chair. "It just means that Diana's negotiations have gone well."

Twilight watched as the conglomeration moved, stretching out from a blob into a more linear blob. Hundreds - maybe even thousands - of brown dots made their way from the head to the tail of the group, streaming supplies up to and through the gargantuan gates of the castle.

Clearly, those negotiations went very well.

"Want to take a guess as to whether these supplies were bought or stolen?" Ician asked.

"Uh..." Twilight furrowed her brows. "Bought? We couldn't possibly have stolen this much without recapturing Canterlot. And didn't you just say that we got these through Diana's negotiation?"

"Indeed." Ician touched his armoured hoof to his chin. "But this is too much to have been strictly voluntary. No doubt Queen Chrysalis must be incensed."

"So, what, she's going to attack us again?"

"Oh, most certainly. With her Supreme Commander back she has no need to delay." Ician soothingly stroked the back of his vulture, who was resting on the chair just next to his, and whispered a few words into her ear. She flapped her wings powerfully and swooped out the window, the tips of her feathers brushing against Twilight's face and blasting it with wind that the spell on her window had been keeping out of the carriage.

"Where is your vulture going?" Twilight asked.

"To gather intelligence," Ician replied. "We'll have the changelings' next target soon enough."

Twilight nodded. She hadn't the wherewithal to question Ician's stories anymore. If he said his vulture could gather intelligence, he was probably right.

"Brace for descent!" the carriage-pulling guard, Midnight Blossom, called. Twilight magically anchored her hooves to the floor of the carriage. Ician held on tightly to his chair. The entire vehicle suddenly tipped forward. Wind howled past the window it couldn't get into. And then, as suddenly as they had dropped, they levelled out again.

Twilight glanced out of the window. As far as she could see, the ocean of metropolitan darkness expanded outwards in every direction. The walls were distant now. In front of them, the only sky-scraping building loomed: the Midnight Spire.

"Coming in for a landing!" Midnight announced. The carriage swooped in towards a protrusion from the Spire, which soon swelled into a narrow landing platform as they approached. They circled the platform for a few moments, warning the milling figures below that they were about to land. Then Midnight brought them in for the landing proper, and with the shudder the carriage set down on the hard metal.

The door opened. Midnight lowered the boarding ramp and saluted smartly (and when she thought no one was looking, shot a dirty glare at Ician). Twilight exited the carriage with as much regality and poise as she could muster. It made her feel like a stuffy old minister in Celestia's court.

"Welcome, your highness." At the end of the ramp were a squadron of Lunar guards, fully armoured in the signature blues of the Republic army. Leading them was an earth pony with a modest brown coat, dressed in a simple but formal vest and sporting a pin of indeterminate status on his collar. "It is a pleasure to receive you."

"Yes, uh, likewise." Twilight decided she needed some lessons on royal protocol. She never imagined she'd need them.

Thank you, Chief Diplomat," Ician said. "Please escort the Princess to her quarters. Ensure her door is guarded at all times. I do not want any incidents."

"Of course." The earth pony nodded to his soldiers, who withdrew and marched towards the enormous double doors that opened up into the Spire. He gestured to Twilight, who assumed that that was her signal that she could move forward without the danger of being stabbed to death, and she followed him towards the doors. He fell into step beside her. Up close, she could see heavy eyebags under his eyes, and some rope marks on his hooves.

This pony mustn't have been having the happiest few days.

Her entire entourage stopped at the doors. With a heavy creak and a groan, the gigantic doors swung slowly open.

The endless hallways and countless doors beyond weren't blue or dark, as Twilight expected, but rather faintly shimmered a gentle, Celestial white. Paintings and portraits of Luna lined the constant corridor, and Lunar-themed tapestries were draped against the walls, but white dominated the heart of Midnight Spire. Twilight took a single step inside, and immediately she found her bare hoof buried in the soft caress of a pale magenta carpet. She remembered kindly eyes that colour, a long time ago.

"Why is this placed coloured like Princess Celestia?" Twilight thought aloud.

At once, as if something caught in his throat, the earth pony diplomat began to choke. Ician moved in and firmly slapped him on the back. The choking transitioned to disbelieving coughing, and after a quick recovery he looked at Twilight with frantic eyes. "Oh no, your highness, you misunderstand. The theme of the interior is moonlight white and midnight blues and purples. That was Princess Luna's personal instruction to the architects of the Spire, and that was how it was constructed."

"Oh." As Twilight looked around, though, taking in the vivid pastels of her mentor, she knew in her heart that Luna must have been thinking of something else when she commissioned the interior decoration.

She was led down the eternal hallway without another word. Unlike the twisting and splitting corridors of Canterlot Castle, this one followed almost a single path and was almost straight. To the untrained eye it may well have been. But Twilight noticed that it turned at a very slight angle, no doubt circling the perimeter of the Spire. Twilight began to estimate distances and calculate the approximate circumference, diameter, cross-sectional area, and volume of the structure. How much interior space did it have? How many floors, taking the height of this corridor as the average? How many weapons, troops, and defenses could it carry? How well protected was Midnight Castle, if Chrysalis ever struck here? Her respawn point wasn't here. She didn't have the benefit of a teleporter either. Without the mercenaries, how vulnerable would this city be?

"We're here." Ician's voice cut through Twilight's thoughts like a machete through boneless flesh. She snapped out of it, glanced around, and quickly took in her new surroundings. They were at another part of the almost homogeneous corridor, standing in front of a big set of doors.

"This is the highest level of diplomatic suite available, your highness," the earth pony said deferentially. "My greatest apologies that we were unable to requisition a chamber more suitable for your refined tastes, but-"

"I'll be fine," Twilight said, waving his concern away. He obviously had no idea what her 'refined tastes' were, or he'd probably have given her the outhouse. "What's the schedule for the rest of today?"

"Dinner with Princess Cadance will be at seven pm," Ician replied. "You have nothing scheduled till then."

"Thanks." She pushed the door open, hesitated, then added, "Also, no one disturb me, please."

"Yes, your highness," the guards responded in unison. Ician pointed at two of them and gestured to my door. They walked up to either side and waited there, stone-still, guarding the room like gargoyles.

"Uh, yeah. Good job. I'll... just be in here." Twilight trotted into the room. "See you all later."

She closed the door. Lighting her horn, she cast every protective cantrip she knew on the door, the walls, and any part of the room she was afraid might be compromised. She couldn't be too careful in the home of the still, official, enemy. She scanned the room for traps. None. She scanned it for bugs. None either. She scanned it for everything under the sun, but she didn't find anything. She decided to take that as a gesture of goodwill on Princess Cadance's behalf.

With that done, she turned her attention to the room itself. It was big, no doubt. A king-sized bed and a huge bathroom. She trotted over to the bedside table, opened the drawer, and pulled out a complimentary pad of paper.

She began to calculate.

"Welcome back, commander," Chief Diplomat Mente murmured under his breath to Ician. "You are a welcome sight in these dire times."

"You flatter me." Ician motioned to the remainder of the guard, Midnight included, and they fell behind him and Mente in steady step towards the dinner hall. "Have you recovered from your own ordeal? I heard the changelings were not kind."

"At least I escaped alive," Mente said. He gazed down at the marks around his hooves. Nightmarish memories flashed through his mind, and he shuddered. "Though I would please ask you not to bring that up again."

"I understand. I'm very sorry." Ician bowed his head apologetically. "By the way, I heard that General Nightcall was looking for me."

"Ah, yes. He wanted the assistance of your expertise in understanding the changeling threat. Our scientists have been working on the few specimens we managed to acquire, but our progress is slow. I understand that you have some... experience with the creatures?" Mente tilted his head in the direction of Ician's chitin-armoured hoof.

"Quite. I'd be happy to share everything I know with the General." Ician stopped suddenly, prompting Mente to stop beside him. "This is where we part ways, I'm afraid, Chief Diplomat. I must debrief Princess Twilight's escort and prepare myself for tonight's dinner. If you'll excuse me?"

"Of course, commander." Mente bowed respectfully. As Ician headed off down a split corridor towards the centre of the Spire, he led the other lunar troops back to the barracks. All, naturally, except Midnight, who stormed down the corridor after Ician.

"Midnight," Ician greeted smoothly.

"Commander," Midnight ground out.

He sighed. "Look, Midnight, I'm sorry. But you must understand-"

"Understand what, commander?" she snapped. "That you betrayed the Republic?"

"I did not betray anyone," Ician countered. He opened his mouth in a snarl, but something flashed through his eyes and his expression softened. "Tell me, Midnight. What would have happened if the New Lunar Republic defeated the Empire?"

"Then everypony would be free, and there would be justice." Midnight said.

"Subjective." Ician shook his head. "Let's look at absolute numbers. Would there be more food?"

"Well, no, but-"

"More land?"

"Not exactly, but if you think-"

"More money?"

"What are you trying to say?" Midnight snapped.

"If you look at it from the perspective of the majority," Ician explained, "you'll realise that nothing changes one way or another, no matter who's in charge. Most of them don't even care. All the fighting the mercenaries have been perpetrating has caused so much destruction and death, and for what?"

"Justice!" Midnight shouted.

Ician tutted and shook his head again. "If they really cared, they could move to the Republic. There aren't any border controls. They might have to leave behind businesses or farms, but if it really, really mattered to them, they would still do it. They could start a new life here with hard work." He eyed Midnight gently. "Some ponies prefer a dictatorship, you know."

She fumed. "The Republic isn't-"

"I'm not saying the Republic is wrong," Ician added quickly. "I'm just saying that, in the bigger picture, right and wrong doesn't really matter unless the ponies think it does. Both Princess Celestia and Princess Luna only wanted what was right for their subjects. But look at what came from that?"

Midnight shut her mouth. She didn't know what to say anymore.

"I just hope," Ician muttered, "that Princess Cadance and Princess Twilight will do the responsible thing."

"... As opposed to the right thing?" Midnight quipped.

"I find that the two rarely coincide," he answered.

Total estimate (rounded to 3 significant figures):

Troop count: 48,800

Defensive emplacements equivalent: +17,900

- Wall contribution equivalent: +8,000

- Potential trap equivalent: +1,000

- Position equivalent: +1,000

Total defender advantage equivalent: +10,000
Effective strength: 65,700

Twilight bit her lip and telekinetically swept aside the monstrous mess of papers around her. By her estimates, Midnight Castle was strongly defended, but even the most generous estimate of the changeling forces overwhelmed whatever they could muster. It was only to be expected. The changelings were by all accounts an insectoid species, and their method of reproduction vastly outclassed mammalian methods, at least in sheer numbers. Even if their lifespans were typical of smaller insect species - something she doubted, given their size - they would still outnumber Midnight Castle two to one if they dispatched so much as a fraction of their army.

Over at the door, something chimed. She thought it was a doorbell at first, which she found rather odd, but she quickly realised that the culprit was a wall-mounted clock. Funny that she didn't notice it before. She must have been really absorbed in her calculations. And the time now was...

6.50pm

Oh, interesting design. The Republic seemed to favour digital clocks, as opposed to the analog preference of most Imperial government buildings. It was supposed to be easier to read, so she'd heard, but she was so used to analog that the digital presentation took her a little while to-

Wait a minute. When was dinner again?

It was at, uh, let's see...

Oh dear.

There was no time to waste. Twilight dashed into the bathroom and bathed herself quickly to completion. Her Sniper's vest was dirty and sweaty from wearing it the whole day. She threw it carelessly into the wardrobe and threw on something that looked vaguely like a good dress. There were a ton of perfume and makeup bottles on the dresser but she had no idea what to do with them. She didn't even recognise half the names on the bottles. Eventually she decided to just leave them alone and go. She probably didn't smell that bad.

Now: directions.

She burst out of the door and spun to face the two guards at either side. "Can any of you tell me where the dining hall is?" she asked breathlessly. Both of them pointed to the right. "Thanks," she added, and rushed off. They didn't indicate anything else, so she assumed it would be immediately obvious which door she was supposed to go to.

She found herself running for a full minute. Doors whizzed by, each as blank as the last, until she finally came across a gigantic set of double doors that dwarfed even those of her room. Above the doorframe, a sign marked in purple lettering Dining Hall glittered dimly.

Twilight swung the doors open with her telekinesis and charged in. "I'm here!" she exclaimed, puffing and wheezing. Being a Sniper did not give her many opportunities for running.

"Twilight!" At the other end of the round dining table, Princess Cadance gave her a warm smile. She wore nothing but her regalia and a little bib. Ician, dressed in his signature cloak, was seated midway between Cadance and what Twilight assumed was her own seat, embroidered with royal whites and oranges. His expression was solemn.

"Um, greetings, Princess Cadance." Twilight forced a smile. She was pretty sure there was some procedure to be followed.

Cadance laughed. "Oh, don't be like that. It's just the three of us tonight. We don't need to be formal."

"But... um..." So everypony wanted her to be a proper Princess, which meant being formal, and now Cadance wanted her to not be formal? "We're... monarchs, aren't we?" she protested lamely.

"Technically I'm not a monarch," Cadance said cheerfully. "And I haven't even been elected yet. I'm just the interim Head of State while the Republic sorts its internal affairs out."

"Indeed," said Ician. "Twilight, if you don't mind, could I trouble you to close the door?"

"Oh. Of course." Twilight powered up her magic and clicked the door shut.

"Good," Ician said. "Now soundproof the room."

"Uh... sure." She did as he asked.

"Are there any bugs?" Ician asked Cadance.

Her smile dropped into a serious frown. "Not that I know of."

"I'll check." Twilight scanned the room. She found a few bugs tucked away in remote corners of the hall. She crushed them all. "No more."

"Thank you." Ician nodded. "Now, nothing tonight leaves this room, understand?"

"Why?" Twilight asked. "What's going on?"

"For the first time since the civil war began, the Empire and the Republic are going to be working together." Ician looked between the two of them. "We can't risk negative press releases, or spying, or... anything. The potential of any kind of public upset to ruin this partnership is immense."

"This isn't just any ordinary dinner, Twilight," Cadance explained. "We're going to be discussing the future of our nations."

"The future of..." Twilight paled. "Ician, I wasn't ready for this!"

"We aren't engaging in any heavy plans for reunification yet," Ician assured her. "This is purely about the war effort."

"Yes," said Cadance. "And whether or not we're going to unite our armies."

"I hate to spoil the outcome for you," Ician added, "but it has to be yes, or we're all doomed."

"I didn't know this was even a question." Twilight sat down on her spot at the table. "No two ways about it. We're not fighting each other until we beat the changelings." She hesitated, then continued, "If we can beat them at all."

"We can," Ician asserted. "Now, first things first. Changelings feed on love. Twilight, this will be difficult for you to do, but I need you to order mass evacuations from Imperial cities so we can concentrate our forces on defending Lunar territory. Changelings haven't yet breached the defenses of the Republic, and if we force them to attack the strong defenses we have here and along the border for food they'll suffer massive casualties while leaving most of our own forces intact."

"Give up all those cities, just like that?" Twilight asked.

"We can take them back when we defeat them," he replied. "There isn't anything useful for changelings in those cities anyway. We'll take whatever supplies we can with us and burn the rest."

"Yes, but-"

"Your highnesses!" A lunar guard - Midnight, Twilight quickly noticed - burst in through the door. "It's an emergency!"

Cadance stood up at once. "What's going on!"

"It's the changelings!" Midnight gasped. "We're under attack!"

Twilight scrambled to her hooves and galloped to the nearest window. At the very edge of her vision, looming over the city walls, was a cloud of chitinous black so massive that it blotted out the fading sun.

And her mercenaries were not here.

The Other Side

Canterlot Castle was in shambles. Anything that had even the slightest hint of Celestia on it had been, by Chrysalis' order, taken down and burnt. Tapestries, carpets, even the throne itself, emblazoned with the Princess' cutie mark as it was, had been dismantled and sent away to be destroyed.

Chrysalis gazed at what was left of the throne room. "So we don't have enough resources to take down and replace those stained glass windows yet?"

"Not yet, my Queen." Protea, clad in the standard commander's armour, replied. "We could always take them down, of course, but then we'd have nothing to replace them with, and the wind would blow in..."

"Just the wind? That isn't so bad." Chrysalis said.

".. and so would the rain."

"Oh." She reconsidered. "Yes, that is quite unwanted. We can keep these windows for now then. But I want them gone as soon as possible."

"Yes, my Queen."

"What about the rest of the castle?"

"Everything you ordered taken down has been removed. But, in my humble opinion, I believe they might serve a better purpose as military matériel."

"A good idea." Chrysalis nodded in approval. "You may do so."

"As you wish."

"How about my subjects? Are they well fed?"

"Yes, the commoners-" Protea corrected herself immediately, "- the army will be ready for tomorrow's invasion."

Chrysalis ignored the little slip. "Good. Has the military council reached its decision?"

"They advise that we strike at the Administrator's base first." Protea said. "With him out of the way, the Republic and the Empire lose their middle ground."

"Yes, that is true." Chrysalis thought for a moment. "What about Midnight Castle?"

"It would severely demoralize the Republic - more so than it already is, at any rate - but it is likely to be very well defended. It will certainly be more secure than the Administrator's base."

"Then tell the council they have my decision. We are to attack the designated target at dawn tomorrow."

"Yes, my Queen." Protea bowed low and excused herself from the throne room.

One of her changeling officers was waiting outside. "Commander, the scouting party is ready. They await your orders."

"Good. Send them out now."

The officer was startled. "Now, Commander?"

"Did you not understand my order?"

"No, Commander," he backtracked hastily, "but to do so now - in broad daylight - would lead to increased casualties."

"Point being?"

"With respect, might I suggest that we move out under the cover of night?"

"No. The council needs time to make its decisions with the appropriate intelligence."

"But we would be needlessly sacrificing troops-"

"There are no sacrifices that are without purpose, officer." Protea snapped. "In any case, we outnumber even the combined forces of the Empire and the Republic ten to one. We can afford to lose a few soldiers. We have reserves."

"But- but-" The poor officer stammered. "But Commander-"

"Do as I say." Protea snarled. "Or I will have you thrown in prison for insubordination."

Instantly, the officer stiffened. Straightening his posture and giving a sharp salute, he said, "I meant nothing by my words, Commander. I merely wished to offer what was, in my mistaken view, a superior alternative. I must apologize for my unprovoked argument."

"Then go and relay my orders. Now."

"At once, Commander." Quick as a flash, the officer bolted away.

These nameless mooks are getting out of hoof. She thought to herself.

The Canterlot dungeons - being the only place in the palace with a dark and dreary atmosphere befitting the changeling military council - had been hastily repurposed as the meeting room for said council. A small round table, painted in the commanders' shade of blue, was erected in the centre of the available space. Four of the five pathetically short chairs (they were boxes, really) were occupied by changelings.

The door creaked open, and Protea stepped in.

"You're late, Protea." One of the changelings chided.

"Not my fault, Shifter. One of the officers had the audacity to question my orders." She removed her helmet and set it down on the floor. Looking around the table accusingly, she said, "Who posted him to the Queen's guard?"

No one said anything. Naturally.

"We'll deal with it later." Another changeling offered.

"Definitely, Espia." Protea accepted. "We need to make sure that the military knows who's in charge."

"Yes, but we'll take care of it later." Yet another changeling grunted. "Let's move on to the important business, shall we?"

"Gran's right." The final changeling noted. "We need to discuss the invasion. Has the Queen given her approval?"

"Of course, Fal. There was no cause for her to refuse."

"Okay, then. How many troops do we need to capture this base?"

"Really, it depends on the intel our scouts get back with." Protea shrugged. "But if you want an informed guess, my estimate is a few hundred."

"That few?" Espia asked. "What's the expected casualty rate?"

"A few hundred."

"So... Everyone then." Shifter said.

"Naturally. But they'll be all we need to get in. And once that's done we send reinforcements."

"This may not have occurred to you," Fal began sarcastically, "but wouldn't it be better if we have, you know, a battle plan?"

Protea was surprised. "Why? We can overwhelm them easily."

"That might be true - if we were dealing with anyone but the Administrator." He retorted. "His strength rivals - or, at risk of exaggeration, exceeds - that of our esteemed Queen."

"Exceeds?" Protea snorted. "No one is stronger than Queen Chrysalis herself."

"Even if that is the case," he persisted, "how are we going to deal with him?"

"We could always send the Queen to occupy him." Gran suggested.

"With what?" Fal snarked. "A friendly diplomatic discussion?"

"No." Protea replied, getting the idea. "A duel."

"A duel?" Fal gasped. "Unacceptable!"

"Why not?" Gran asked.

"It would put the Queen in great danger, to be dueling with someone of such great power." Fal said. "We cannot allow it."

"We'll ask her if she thinks it's a good idea." Gran elaborated. "She is likely to know the Administrator's level of power better than the rest of us. Let her decide."

"And if she doesn't agree to do it?" Fal asked.

"Then we just send in enough troops to overwhelm him." Protea said. "Strength through numbers always wins in the end."

"Our army might not even be big enough to beat the Administrator." Fal countered. "Have you even considered that?"

"Nonsense. We have thousands upon thousands of changelings. We can't lose."

"And how many of those thousands are we going to lose to defeat him?" He challenged.

"Naturally, many of them." Protea acknowledged. "But that just means fewer mouths to feed."

"But will we still have enough troops to conquer the remaining Equestrian territories?"

She snorted. "Of course. We outnumber them ten to one. We will still outnumber them even if the figures drop to five to one."

"And what about three to one?" Fal asked.

"Still."

"Two to one?"

"I don't see-"

"What if," Fal whispered with dread, "we lose nine-tenths of our forces? What happens then?"

"No one is that powerful." Protea dodged the question.

"But... what if?"

"There is no point contemplating what if," she said stiffly, "if there is no possibility of that if ever happening."

"Can you prove that it's not possible?" Fal shot back.

"... No." Protea admitted. "But to take out nine-tenths of our army just by himself would require unimaginable amounts of power. The Queen would never have approved an assault on his base if that were the case."

"So the Queen knows that he's not too strong." He said.

"Yes."

"That's a relief. But we're not going to send half our forces just to capture one small base in the middle of nowhere." He paused. "... Are we?"

"No, we're not." Protea said. "But we will be sending a sizable force nonetheless."

"At least two thousand?" Gran asked hopefully.

"At least." She confirmed.

"Then it seems this issue is settled." Fal concluded. "Let's move on to the next one. Espia?"

"We need to confirm who will be leading this attack on the Administrator's base." Espia said.

Protea's surprise showed on her face. "Why is this even a question?"

"... Because it needs to be answered?" Espia supplied helpfully.

"But we already know the answer." Protea explained. "Me."

"Oh no, we're not going to let you do that. By yourself, at least." Fal said. "We don't want another incident like Theria's."

She bristled. "Hers was an isolated incident. There is nothing more to it."

"I also happen to know that the two of you were good friends, back in the day." It was almost an accusation.

"Were good friends. Not any more." Protea replied smoothly. "Her betrayal disgraced her both in my eyes and the eyes of our Queen."

"That's not the point." Fal said. "At least Theria got away with only a battalion's worth of troops. You'll be in charge of at least two thousand."

"I have no reason to backstab the Queen."

"But she has reason to suspect you do."

Protea gaped. "What?"

"She ordered us to follow you on the invasion."

"Whether you like it or not." Shifter added.

"She... doesn't trust me?"

"I'm sure it's just because this invasion is really important." Espia comforted her. "She still chose you to be the acting commander, so obviously she thinks you're the most capable."

"I don't think-" Fal began. Espia elbowed him. "Ow..."

"You don't think what?" Protea asked.

"He was about to say something offensive." Espia said. Fal glared at her. She returned the look. He glanced away.

"Really?" Protea looked doubtful.

"What-" Espia knocked him upside the head. "I mean, yes."

"So... what happens to my invasion now?"

"It's still yours." Espia assured her. "It's just that we'll be tagging along. To provide advice and military strategy."

Fal nearly managed to get the first word out of his mouth before Espia fixed him with a harsh stare. He closed it reluctantly.

"Then it's settled." Protea said decisively. "We'll attack tomorrow at dawn. The scouting party should be back at any moment with the information we need."

"And then?" Gran asked.

"Then we plan." Protea picked up her helmet and donned it. "For tomorrow's victory."

"Administrator!" Screwball burst into the room, neatly dodging the bucket of water that emptied itself over the spot she'd been standing on a moment ago. "We have company!"

The Administrator, for his part, kept his gaze fixed on the computer screens. "I suppose you wouldn't have fallen for the bucket trick a second time."

"Never mind the bucket." Screwball panicked. "Changelings are advancing on our base!"

"I know."

"You... know?"

"Yes, I have cameras set up around the perimeter of the base." He pointed to one of the screens. "See here? Just twenty of them. It's a scouting party."

"Are those... all Scouts?" Screwball asked slowly.

"With a capital S, yes. Rainbow mane and all." Discord scrutinized the screen. "Interesting. They've chosen to wear green uniforms. To differentiate themselves from our own mercenaries, presumably."

"Otherwise they'll kill more friendlies than hostiles." She pointed out. "There are only eighteen mercs. Early reports indicate they have thousands of changelings."

"Obviously. But now is not the time to talk about their choice of clothing." He waved his hand nonchalantly. "Please take care of it, Screwball."

She was confused. "Take... care of it?"

"You know. The problem."

She still didn't understand. "How, Administrator?"

"By killing them?"

"What? No, I can't!"

"Why not?" The Administrator asked bluntly.

"Because... because... I've never done that before!"

"Killed?"

"No, no, but... killed somepony without a respawn point."

"Oh, so you're afraid of dying without a respawn point." He said.

"Yes." It took a moment for it to hit her. "No! I mean, when they don't have a respawn point."

The Administrator sighed. "Screwball, I spent an entire story - one hundred and ten thousand, nine hundred and twenty-six words, mind you - manipulating Pinkie into a position where she will soon learn to ignore her conscience and kill mercilessly. Do I have to do that for you too?"

"A story? What story?"

"Stay on topic." He commanded. "You are my right-hand pony. The executor of my will. My public face. You cannot show weakness. And I assure you," his eyes glinted cruelly, "by the time this war ends you'll have taken your fair share of lives."

"I..." She hesitated.

"Yes?"

"... I will take care of the problem, Administrator."

"Good." He snapped his fingers. An unassuming brown bag materialized in the air above Screwball's head. She caught it deftly between her teeth. "Take these. They'll help you."

"What are they?"

"Look inside and see."

She opened it. "Oh. These."

"You know how to use them, no?"

"I do, but... these are non-lethal."

"Not anymore."

"But," she persisted, "don't they take a while to work?"

"Of course they did."

"'Did'?"

"I sped up the process... just a little."

"You mean," Screwball concluded, "a lot."

"When you've lived for millennia, everything seems short." The Administrator shrugged.

She took one last look into the bag. "So... this'll do the trick?"

"Why don't you go and see?" He gestured at the door. "Best get going. They're already outside."

"Got it." She galloped over to the door and pushed it open. "Ah, I'm not afraid of dying but... do I have a respawn point?"

"No." He said cheerfully. "Good luck."

"Yeah, I'm going to need it." Screwball muttered under her breath.

She stepped out.

"Do we have enough intel?"

"We've got an attack route. That's all we need for now."

"Who's going to send the preliminary report to the Commander?"

"Pac's going. The rest of us'll stay here and gather further information."

"Right." The creak of an opening door startled the first changeling. "We got company."

"Shh. Stay down." The other hissed. She ducked behind a nearby tree and readied her gun.

"Who is it?" Her companion asked.

Slowly, she peered out from behind the tree. "All clear. It's just his gardener."

"How can you tell?"

"She's wearing gardener's clothes, carrying a hoe, and she's sowing seeds as I speak."

The other changeling risked a glance. "Her eyes are swirls."

"This is the Administrator's base. Did you expect him to get a normal gardener?"

"Good point."

"I think we should just go in there and-" She stopped. Something had just snaked its way up her left hindleg.

"Uh... what's that?"

"I..." She shook her leg vigorously. Whatever it was refused to detach itself. "I don't know."

"Let me try to get it off." She felt her companion's hooves on her leg, trying to wrench off the thing. "Almost... I- GAH!"

"What happened?" She whipped around. The thing - a black tentacle, lined with bluish spikes sharpened to a point - had wrapped itself firmly around her leg. One of the tips of the spikes had impaled itself in the other changeling's eye. He was screaming in pain, thrashing wildly.

Even as she took in the scene with absolute horror, another tentacle snaked its way towards her face. "No... stay back!"

"Or what?" Asked a voice cheerfully from behind her.

"AH!" She turned quickly. The gardener, now levitating above the ground, gave her a nasty smile.

"What's wrong?" She cackled. "It won't hurt you!"

Training took over. Her scattergun, all but forgotten in the earlier struggle, pressed itself to the gardener's mouth.

"Oh, I wouldn't do that if I were you."

A tentacle reached up to the gun and smacked it out of her hoof. She gasped in shock. "But..."

"Like you said: This is the Administrator's base." She pressed her hoof onto the changeling's neck. "You shouldn't have expected him to get a normal gardener."

crack

"Commander!" A desperate changeling burst into the dungeon.

"What is it?" Protea snapped. "It had better be important. You have standing orders not to interrupt a council meeting."

"The scouts' report, Commander." He explained breathlessly. "It identifies an attack route but... communications were cut off abruptly."

"That means they got killed." Protea shrugged. "Not a big loss, so long as we still have the attack route."

"But I-"

"Commander!" Behind him, another changeling charged headfirst through the door.

"What?!"

"Communications are back online, but they've been compromised."

"What do you mean, 'compromised'?"

"The phone's for you, Commander." He handed a cordless telephone over to Protea.

"Who is it?" She shouted into the phone.

Whoever was on the other end stayed silent.

"Speak!" She commanded.

"... Are you the commander of the changeling army?"

"Yes, I am." She eyed the receiver suspiciously. "And who are you?"

The question went unanswered. "I hope you're ready to lose tomorrow, Protea."

If her face had not been black, the colour would have drained from it. "How do you know my name?"

"Your scouts are awfully talkative, with the right... incentive." A dark chuckle. "Oh yes, one more thing."

"What?"

"Pac wants me to tell you that he's always hated you... Commander." The last word somehow came out sounding like an insult. "Goodbye."

"Hey, wait! I-" A loud beep interrupted her. Protea stared at the phone.

"The line's dead, Commander." The first changeling added unnecessarily.

"I know that." She growled. "But who is Pac?"

"Ah... one of your scouts."

"Oh." She dropped the phone on the ground and stomped on it. "Useless minions. At least they didn't know anything really important they could confess."

"Doesn't that hurt?" Espia asked.

"What?"

"Trying to crush the phone."

"I've gotten used to-" She looked down. "Why isn't it broken?"

"They're armour-coated now. The Queen's orders." Gran explained. "She decided that you've cost us enough in broken phones that we'd be in debt if we weren't just stealing a new one from the Empire every time we needed one."

"That means we're costing the Empire hundreds of dollars."

"But we lose changelings every time we conduct a new infiltration mission."

"A necessary sacrifice." Protea waved her hoof dismissively.

"I see." Gran said dryly. "And I suppose you'd go mad from the inability to destroy the Queen's property otherwise, eh?"

"Look, this isn't important. What is important is preparing a battle plan." She pressed her hooves together, deep in thought. "We've got an attack route. A frontal attack ought to be best. We can wear down the Administrator's defenses in waves and send in the main body of the army when he's weak enough."

"So, basically, just throwing troops at them until they give up." Fal sighed. "It sounds like your type of plan, all right."

"Look, I can come up with more complicated plans if I wanted to." Protea retorted. "But unless every last soldier both and Empire and the Republic can muster are there, we will outnumber them. It's a good plan."

"But is it the best plan?"

"It's a lot less likely to fail than a lot of other plans, if that's what you're thinking."

"No," Fal explained impatiently, "I was thinking more along the lines of reducing our casualties."

"Why would we do that?"

"Because, I don't know, we shouldn't be throwing away the lives of our soldiers?"

Protea scoffed. "There's no need to worry about that. If we push the breeding centres a little, we'll be producing troops faster than they die."

"Firstly, they are called families, not 'breeding centres'." Fal ground out. "And secondly, did it maybe not come to your mind that they might not want to be treated like changeling assembly lines?"

"Does it matter what they think?" She snapped. "They are under the Queen's command, and by extension ours. They will do what we want, or they will die."

"That is not how we should be governing them!"

"That is how I am governing them. And this is my battle to win, not yours." Protea stood up abruptly. "I have nothing more to discuss." She brushed past the two changelings at the door and marched out of the room.

"The Queen will not forgive you for such callous treatment of her subjects!" Fal called after her.

She turned back one last time. "She will forgive me when I bring the news of victory back."

And like a passing shadow, she was gone.

"Screwball. Screwball, this is the Administrator."

"How are you speaking to me?"

"I installed speakers beside the perimeter cameras."

"Oh."

"Anyway, is it done?"

"It's done. I got all the scouts."

"All of them?"

"I saved one for further interrogation."

"Further?"

"I held a little impromptu session. Was that okay?"

"Yes, very good. Bring him back quickly."

"Right."

The Administrator flicked a switch and settled back into his armchair. "See? It's all been taken care of."

Ician wore a look of deep suspicion. His vulture had adopted a similar expression. "I don't believe anything until I see it myself."

"Hold on." The Administrator tapped the table twice in quick succession. Nineteen images of mutilated changelings flashed across a row of computer screens.

"Those pictures could be edited or just the same scene from different angles."

"You should be more trusting, Ician." The Administrator tutted.

"Don't worry, I believe you." Ician assured him. "If only because I can't see any motive for you to deceive me."

"That'll have to do."

"The question is, did they manage to get any intelligence to their superiors?"

"From what I've heard, they plotted an attack route."

"Excellent." Ician let out an uncharacteristic cackle. "I assume we know what it is?"

"We will soon, once we finish interrogating our prisoner."

He grinned. "Then it's time to advance our pawns. Cover them with our bishops and move our knights into position."

"Play chess a lot, do you?"

"I'm... an adequate player. Personally, I don't like it too much, for a number of reasons. One of them is that it presupposes both sides are fully aware of hostile troop movements."

The Administrator chuckled. "Why do I think the Spies are going to be playing a big role in your plan?"

"I wonder." Ician deadpanned. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to see to my victory."

"Your victory?"

"Unless you deny that you'll be doing nothing other than sitting in your chair and watching us with a bag of popcorn in your hand?"

"I'll still be casting the gravity spell for you, won't I?"

"You just need to snap your fingers once. That's all. No effort."

"You're right, of course." The Administrator grinned. "But how did you know about the popcorn?"

"Logical analysis." Ician said. "Not to mention there are at least ten empty bags of popcorn in the bin."

"Ah. That makes sense."

He inclined his head respectfully. "So may I leave now?"

"One more thing."

"Yes?"

"I was thinking... we need BLU and RED to work together if they want to win."

"Definitely."

"But they have so much pent-up hostility between them."

"Yes... in no small part thanks to you."

The Administrator touched his hand to his chest. "You wound me with your accusations."

"No more than you deserve." Ician returned. "Now, what was your point?"

"See, I think it would be best if we start healing these rifts."

His eyes narrowed. "What do you have in mind?"

"Perhaps we should restructure the teams."

"You somehow managed to explain nothing at all. Could you be more specific?"

"It's something I call... team scramble."

"Wait..."

"Right now, the teams are allied. But the alliance only means that they won't try to kill each other, not that they're working together."

"So you want to mix the teams." Ician concluded.

"Yes. We can, say, move the RED Sniper to BLU, the BLU Scout to RED, and... you get it."

"I do." Ician considered the suggestion. "Still, this is an important battle. Can we expect them to work together well enough to win?"

"They know what they have to do. Their emotions won't get in the way of their duty."

"Something tells me you don't believe that yourself."

The Administrator laughed. "Of course I don't. I just want to see the awkwardness."

"At least it'll lead to longer-term benefits." Ician mused. "And since this is your base, even if we're defeated tomorrow - because of your decision, mind you, not mine - we won't have lost anything too important."

"Hey, it's your job to win against impossible odds. Besides, if things go wrong I'm always here to help."

"Popcorn." Ician reminded him.

"After I finish the popcorn."

"Ugh." He facehooved. "Can I just go now? I need to figure out how I'm supposed to break the bad news."

"Bad news?" The Administrator asked with an innocent smile. "What bad news?"

Ician gave him a withering look and marched out the door. "Farewell, Administrator."

The draconequus waited until the door, creaking on its hinges, closed with a telltale click. "Oh, I can't wait for tomorrow."

"Hm... A duel, you say?" Chrysalis examined Protea. Something in her manner was different from earlier - she seemed troubled and uncertain.

"Yes, my Queen." Protea, prostrated before her, murmured in a low voice.

"It might be interesting... but no. I must take time to gather power to myself before I can face him."

"As you wish, my Queen."

Chrysalis decided to broach the subject. "Commander... is something on your mind?"

"Nothing you need to trouble yourself with, my Queen."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, my Queen."

Chrysalis was annoyed. "That's far too many 'my Queen's from anyone, especially a Commander. Why are you so deferential?"

"No reason in particular, my- I mean, uh..."

"Commander, I order you to tell me why you're behaving this way."

"I... uh..."

"Yes?"

"My Queen, did I do something to bring your suspicion upon me?" She blurted out.

Chrysalis frowned. "What are you talking about?"

"According to Commander Fal, you ordered the military council to accompany me on my mission."

"Yes... what about that?"

"My Queen, with all due respect, do you suspect me of being a traitor?"

"You, Commander?" Chrysalis was astonished. "Whatever gave you that idea?"

"Commander Fal."

"... Of course he would." She sighed. "I might not know much about the internal politics of the council, but I know envy when I see it."

"So... you don't think that I'm a deserter?"

"Of course not. As far as I'm concerned, you're a valuable and loyal Commander. And," Chrysalis added, "unless you do something to change that, it'll stay that way."

Relief was written across Protea's face. "Thank you, my Queen. I feel at ease now."

"As you should be. Now, what about the invasion?"

"It's all sorted out. We've got an attack route. All that's left is to overwhelm them."

"Excellent." Chrysalis grinned. "I can't wait for tomorrow."