Ponystar Celestia

T plus one hour and ten minutes.

An earth pony mare tended to her creation, wondering whether her siblings would live though the day—and if they did, whether they would ever speak to her again now that they had learned her secret.

*

The fastest pony alive tossed and turned in her sleep, plagued by fever-borne nightmares.

*

The Celestia’s CAG slept dreamlessly, blissfully ignorant of the truths she would soon learn.

*

A stallion’s body fought to stay alive as he dreamed sweet dreams of his wife and the foal he hoped to meet soon.

*

A world-famous diva walked the passageways of the Celestia, tears silently streaming down her face.

*

A mother-to-be held a pegasus colt and a unicorn filly close, each drawing on the others for comfort and strength as they wept for a shared loss.

*

A pegasus with prosthetic wings stood beside her heroine’s sickbed and gently replaced the cool, wet cloth on her forehead.

*

A yellow-coated mare spoke quietly with the Celestia’s doctor, and swore to herself that she would be stronger for her friends.

*

The bearer of Magic slept fitfully, dreaming of ponies left behind and of a cruel, snaggletoothed smile.

*

A pony wearing a propeller beanie looked around—was it her imagination, or had she really just heard her father’s voice?

*

An apple farmer woke up.

* * *

T plus two hours and forty minutes. Ponystar Celestia, sickbay.

“…and though we have lost some, through your heroism we have saved more…” Applejack tried to tune out Commander Agrippa’s gravelly voice. The stallion’s speech had been going on for about five minutes now, and the whole thing had just been a string of condolences and congratulations. It wasn’t that she had a problem with either of those. Celestia knew that there was a need for condolences, especially seeing as how a lot of the folks aboard the ship were Ponyville natives same as her. Applejack was also all for congratulating and thanking the brave pegasi who had struggled—and in some cases died—to save their neighbors and kin. The problem as Applejack saw it was that the Commander never stepped up and apologized for the deaths he had caused when he had quit the fight. She didn’t know who Agrippa thought he was tricking by avoiding the subject. While Applejack herself had been out cold during the evacuation, a conversation she’d overheard revealed that everypony else had heard the Commander’s orders and Major Spitfire’s desperate pleas.

Applejack pushed the Commander and his speech from her mind; she had two urgent needs to attend to. One was finding out what was wrong with her big brother. When Applejack had woken up she had seen Big Macintosh in the next bed over, but when she had tried to speak to him the doctor had drawn the curtain and asked her to be quiet so Mac could sleep. Before Applejack could get the chubby unicorn stallion to explain just what it was that Big Macintosh was sleeping off, Fluttershy had come in to give her some of Rainbow Dash’s medicine. Applejack couldn’t bring herself to explain why she didn’t want any—she didn’t want to throw around accusations that might be false—so Fluttershy hadn’t been willing to take “No, thanks,” for an answer.

That had not been fun. Fluttershy was normally the meekest little pony you could hope to meet, but if she thought she was doing right by you she was darn near unstoppable. She had gone from polite requests to gentle encouragement to mercifully amateurish tricks, all the way to outright trying to force a pill down Applejack’s throat. Not being able to see hadn’t helped matters; once Fluttershy really got serious Applejack had closed her eyes, afraid she would end up on the receiving end of the Stare. Fluttershy always insisted that she had never used it on another pony, but she also insisted that she couldn’t really control it. Luckily, even as hurt as she was Applejack was stronger than her pegasus friend. Doctor Snips had finally broken up their tussle, and Fluttershy had reluctantly gone off to help him with the hoofful of wounded refugees.

Not taking another pill had been the right choice, as Applejack had suspected. She still had the occasional sneeze and she’d developed an intermittent dry cough, but other than that she was fine now. Okay, and Bucky McGillicutty felt like she was on fire, for no apparent reason. And Applejack couldn’t get her right forehoof to stop shaking. But other than that she was right as rain!

She was pushing aside her covers, getting ready to escape sickbay—Hey Rainbow, I feel like Daring Do!—when she heard voices just on the other side of the curtain. Applejack quickly pulled the covers back over herself. She decided against closing her eyes and trying to fake some snores; she didn’t really know what her own snores sounded like, and she felt dirty enough already for hiding her intention to get up.

The curtain twitched to the side and Apple Bloom poked her head around it. She smiled slightly when she saw that Applejack was awake, and stepped into the little curtained space. Apple Bloom turned and gently pulled the curtains shut with her teeth; when she turned back her eyes were brimming with tears. She tried to speak, but nothing came out. A second attempt only produced a sad little squeak.

Applejack sat up. “Come here, sugar cube.”

Apple Bloom stepped forward, almost hesitantly. Once she was close enough, Applejack swept her up in a tight hug. Muscle memory made her try to lift her little sister, but of course Apple Bloom was too big. Applejack felt a touch of melancholy. Though she was proud of the mare Apple Bloom had become, there was a selfish little part of Applejack that wanted her to be a happy, innocent little filly forever. No matter how impossible that was. Holding Apple Bloom as her tears soaked into Applejack’s orange coat was certainly reminiscent of those simpler times. On the other hoof, when Apple Bloom was little her crying had always been a loud and messy thing. Now she was crying the way all Apple mares did: silently, with only family to witness. Applejack murmured reassuring nonsense into one yellow ear as her own tears made dark spots in Apple Bloom’s bright red mane.

Eventually Apple Bloom looked up at her, her eyes puffy and red. “Ponyville’s gone, Applejack,” she whispered raggedly.

“Ah know,” Applejack said quietly. She felt terrible for not being sure which pained her more: the loss of equine lives, or the loss of her family’s land.

“We don’t know who all made it out yet,” Apple Bloom said eventually, her voice hushed. “We’ve been too busy to take a census ‘n’ nopony’s organized the refugees, so they’re just wandering all over Celestia.”

Who’s “we”? Applejack wondered. Aloud she said, “What about Twilight? If anypony can get ‘em rounded up it’ll be her.”

Apple Bloom looked uncomfortable. “Twilight’s been busy—uh—helping Commander Agrippa.”

Righteous indignation swelled up in Applejack’s breast. “What the hay is that filly thinkin’, helpin’ out that no-good snake-in-the-grass?!”

Apple Bloom sat up, her expression concerned. “What are you talking about?”

“That Agrippa’s a dirty coward!” Applejack said. “Spitfire said it herself: she only needed a couple more seconds, but Agrippa just turned tail an’ ran!”

Apple Bloom suddenly glared at her. “You don’t know yer tail from a hole in the ground!” she hissed.

“Apple Bloom!”

“That was a damned hard choice, ‘n’ it tore—” Apple Bloom seemed to stumble mentally, “—him up to do that!”

Applejack knew better than to lasso a bull she couldn’t handle, but she couldn’t quite bring herself to drop the subject either. She raised a forehoof placatingly. “Whoa there! Now what exactly makes you think that that was a tough call for the Commander?” Apple Bloom looked ready to start in on a rant, but Applejack quickly added, “Ah ain’t attackin’ ya, now; Ah’m just wonderin’.”

Apple Bloom paused for a moment to collect herself. “I was there,” she said quietly. “I was in the CIC, watching that thing growing ‘n’ growing…” She smiled sadly then, as if at a private, bittersweet joke. “You could say that the order to run really came from Twilight; she’s the one who did the math and saw that we couldn’t get any more ponies out in time.”

A chill ran down Applejack’s spine. Being able to blame the deaths at Ponyville on Agrippa’s cowardice had been a comfort of sorts, and Apple Bloom had just bucked that out from under her. Twilight Sparkle was many things, but she was no coward; if she had advised the Commander to hightail it, then that was the only thing to do. The thought that there had truly been no hope for those ponies was literally painful; she hunched in on herself a little.

“Yeah,” Apple Bloom said gently, “I know that feeling.” She pulled Applejack’s thin blanket up and tucked it around her shoulders. The sisters sat in silence. Applejack found herself reviewing the day’s events and contemplating the sudden turn her life had taken. War. It was a concept she could barely comprehend; she’d only ever heard it referred to by the actors and actresses who played Commander Hurricane on Hearth’s Warming Eve. Now it was coming, as surely as zap apple season followed the howls of the timber wolves. Coming? More like it’s here already, she corrected herself. She felt a twisted sort of gratitude for the fact that Granny Smith and Winona had passed on years ago; at least they didn’t have to see this day.

Applejack was gradually pulled away from her musings as she became aware that Apple Bloom had something to get off her back. There was nothing particular that Applejack could put her hoof on, but something in the younger mare’s body language gave her away. It reminded Applejack of when Apple Bloom had been a little filly; she used to get a similar look about her when she was feeling guilty enough to confess to some kind of mischief. Now—as then—Applejack waited her out in silence. Eventually Apple Bloom said, “So… Uh… You’re looking better.”

Compared to the crying, or to being “sick”? “Feelin’ better, too,” Applejack said. She still wanted to take care of her needs but sensed that it was important to draw out whatever was bothering her little sister, so she didn’t say anything else.

Another pause. “That’s good,” Apple Bloom said, and chuckled weakly.

Applejack said nothing. She made sure to keep her expression friendly, though; she didn’t want to drive Apple Bloom away.

The silence dragged on. Applejack started counting the seconds in her head. She’d gotten to one hundred and forty-one when Apple Bloom finally spoke again.

“So, uh, I’ve got a question,” she said. Sweat had broken out on her brow.

Applejack raised one eyebrow slowly, as she had seen Rarity do.

“Right before you—uh—puked and passed out, you were asking Big Macintosh something,” Apple Bloom said.

Here we go, Applejack thought. She said nothing.

“‘N’ he—uh—answered you,” Apple Bloom said, her tone begging Applejack to take the lead in the conversation.

“So what was your question?” Applejack asked, as casual as you please. Despite that, Apple Bloom jumped a little.

Apple Bloom took a deep breath. “WellseeIwantedtoknowwhatitwasyouaskedhimabout‘n’whetheryoupukedbecauseyoudidn’tliketheanswerorjust‘causeyouweresick‘n’it’sreallyimportant‘causeIdon’twantyoutohateme‘n’notwantmetobeyoursisternomore!” she said in a rush.

Applejack took a moment to replay that in her head and make sure she understood correctly. Apple Bloom spent that moment catching her breath and looking like she wanted to turn invisible. Finally Applejack smiled. “Ah was askin’ Mac if you were in love with Twilight,” she said.

A cockatrice couldn’t have done a better job of petrifying Apple Bloom.

Applejack held her smile for a moment, but dropped it when Apple Bloom stayed frozen. “What’s wrong?” she asked.

“What’s wrong? What’s wrong?!” Apple Bloom repeated in a bizarre half-whisper-half-shout, her eyes huge. Her ears lay back and her head dropped as she said, “You asked him that… ‘n’ he said yes… ‘n’ then you puked and passed out. That’s what’s wrong.”

Despite the gravity of the situation, Applejack laughed. “Shoot, Ah’m sorry! Ah meant to say, Ah puked an’ passed out because Ah was… feelin’ mighty ill. It didn’t have nothin’ to do with mah question.”

Apple Bloom’s face lit up with hope. “You mean you weren’t disgusted because I’m in love with Twilight?”

“Ah-ha!” Applejack said with a huge grin, making her little sister jump again. “So you are in love with her!”

Apple Bloom spluttered for a moment, then said, “But I thought Big Macintosh already told you!”

Applejack shrugged. “Yeah, but it ain’t the same as hearin’ it straight from the pony’s mouth.” Her expression turned serious. “I gotta ask, though: are you sure it’s love, an’ not just a crush?”

Apple Bloom blushed and looked away, smiling. Her ears were down again, but for a different reason this time. “Pretty sure. I mean: I’ve felt this way about her for a long time, ‘n’ it hasn’t gone away. Plus it’s not all—” she seemed to look for a word “—heady, like when I had that crush on Featherweight. It used to be like that back when we were building Celestia, but the way I feel about Twilight these days… well…” She fidgeted. “It’s a quiet thing. I just feel like a better pony when she’s around, ‘n’ I want to make her happy, if I can.”

Applejack studied her sister for a moment, then smiled. “Well, Ah ain’t Princess Cadance, but it sounds like the real thing to me. Does Twi know how you feel?”

Apple Bloom pouted. “I don’t think so, even though I haven’t exactly been subtle,” she huffed.

Applejack chuckled. “Must not have been, seein’ as how Ah was able to pick up on it. But you know how Twilight is when it comes to other ponies: if it ain’t bitin’ her on the nose she don’t see it.”

“So you don’t hate me?” Apple Bloom asked with a small, hopeful smile, her ears finally perking back up.

“Hate ya? What for?” Applejack asked. “Bein’ a filly-fooler? Or bein’ in love with one’a mah friends?” She shook her head. “Love is love, Apple Bloom; you don’t get a say in who ya feel it for, just in whatcha do about it. Now, Ah gotta admit Ah’m surprised that you’re into mares—an’ older mares at that—but you’ve definitely got good taste.” She smiled again. “‘Sides, Ah could never hate you; you’re mah sister!”

Apple Bloom lunged forward and wrapped her big sister in a hug. Applejack’s right shoulder stung a bit at the pressure, but she didn’t let it show on her face. Pain or no, this hug was a much better one than the last, and she didn’t want to spoil it. “Oh thank you, Applejack! I know it’s silly, but I was so worried!” Apple Bloom leaned back, still holding on to Applejack’s shoulders. “Oh, shoot! Do you think Big Macin—”

“Ah don’t think he’ll mind none,” Applejack interrupted, with a smile. “An’ I know Pinkie will be thrilled fit to bust.” Speaking of… “Hey. Where is Pinkie, anyway?”

Apple Bloom looked confused, and pointed off to the side. “Isn’t she visiting with Mac?”

Applejack turned her head. The lights were pretty low right now—the better to let the patients rest—but through the curtain she could see a vague, blurry silhouette standing by their brother’s bed. It was quiet in the sickbay; very few ponies had suffered non-fatal injuries in the escape from Ponyville, so the large chamber was mostly empty. The more Applejack listened to the quiet and the more she watched the still figure standing over her brother, the more unsettled Applejack became. Mrs. Pinkamena Diane Responsibility Apple was not a still, quiet pony.

Applejack put a hoof to her lips to signal Apple Bloom to be quiet, then eased her blankets off of herself. Getting out of bed stealthily wasn’t easy—especially given the lightning bolt of pain that shot through Bucky McGillicutty when Applejack put her weight down—but she managed. She silently stepped up to the curtain between her alcove and Big Macintosh’s, then glanced back at Apple Bloom. Applejack almost jumped out of her coat; Apple Bloom had silently followed her and was now gripping a wicked-looking knife in her teeth. Where the hay did she get that thing? Still, Apple Bloom’s expression was the one Applejack had hoped for: concerned, but ready. Turning back to the curtain, Applejack could see that the shadow hadn’t moved. She leaned forward as slowly as she could, carefully gripped the curtain in her teeth, and whipped it aside.

Big Macintosh lay in his bed, asleep. He was alone.

Applejack quickly scanned the little area, but there was no sign of anypony else. She took a close look, but as best she could tell the furniture and medical equipment shouldn’t have cast a pony-shaped shadow. The only thing out of the ordinary was a faint scent of chocolate milk. Apple Bloom stepped up behind her as Applejack finished her third search.

“Where’d they go, Applejack?” she asked quietly. The knife had vanished from her mouth.

“I don’t know,” Applejack said. “I didn’t see ‘em leave.” Even one of Twilight’s teleportation spells or Pinkie’s… Pinkie-ness should have rustled the curtains or left some sign. The sisters looked at each other in concern, then turned and watched their brother sleep for a time. Nothing appeared to be wrong with him; he didn’t have any visible wounds or obviously broken limbs. He wasn’t even coughing.

“So where’d that knife come from?” Applejack asked eventually.

“I got it from Celestia’s armory, ‘n’ hid it in my tail,” Apple Bloom whispered.

Now that she knew where to look, Applejack could catch a metallic glint in her sister’s red curls. You have got to be the sneakiest little pony I know. “That’s not what Ah meant.”

“I know,” Apple Bloom said.

Applejack tried the silence trick again, but Apple Bloom held her tongue. Applejack decided to change the subject. “Do you know what’s wrong with Big Macintosh?”

“Yes,” Apple Bloom said quietly.

Applejack waited for a minute or so, her patience fraying. “Well?” she demanded. She had lowered her voice to match Apple Bloom’s without thinking about it.

“I can’t tell you here,” Apple Bloom whispered.

Applejack had a brief flashback of the night she and her friends had found the Elements of Harmony. They had already had a cliff collapse out from under them and been attacked by an enraged manticore, yet they were pressing deeper into the wild reaches of the Everfree Forest, searching for ancient relics in an effort to stop a seemingly invincible foe. They entered a stretch of forest where the canopy was thick enough to block out the stars and the unusually bright moon; suddenly she was stumbling along in total darkness with five other ponies, some of whom she barely knew, one of whom she’d met only that morning. Any of the Everfree’s horrible monsters could have attacked from any direction, and they wouldn’t have known about it until they heard somepony dying. Applejack had put a brave face on it at the time for the others’ sakes, but she had been scared out of her mind; she still had nightmares about those tense moments, even all these years later.

Now, in the sickbay of the Celestia, she felt that same horrible feeling again. Ponyville was gone, and other cities might be as well for all she knew. Big Macintosh was injured, but a knife-wielding Apple Bloom didn’t think it was safe to talk about it in the sickbay of a ponystar. And if Applejack’s own suspicions were correct… Yes. This was the same exact brand of fear, and Applejack doubted that this time she and her friends would end up facing scary-looking trees.

Applejack chuckled softly.

Apple Bloom cocked an eyebrow.

“Sorry,” Applejack whispered. “Just actin’ on some old advice.” She thought for a moment. With her first need frustrated, it was time to act on her second. “Ah hate to ask this’a you, but… Could you go distract Fluttershy an’ the doctor for me?”

“Well, sure I can—but why?” Apple Bloom asked.

“Ah’ve got a suspicion about somethin’, but Ah don’t want to say until Ah’m sure,” Applejack said.

Apple Bloom smiled. “Okay, AJ. Only for you.” Then she blushed. “And maybe Twilight,” she added with a wink. Her expression turned serious as she asked, “Do you want my knife?”

Applejack shook her head.

“All right,” Apple Bloom said. “Catch you later, sis.” With that, she stepped though the curtains.

Applejack moved back to her area, and closed the curtain leading to Mac’s. She took a long look at the curtain, but there was no sign of the mysterious shadow. She tied off her mane and tail, grabbed her hat from the jacket rack by her bed, and settled it where it belonged. She waited.

And waited.

Dang, girl, she thought. I don’t have all day!

As if her thought had been a signal Applejack heard a loud *bang* and a clatter from the far end of sickbay, along with a yelp of pain from Apple Bloom. Applejack heard hooves racing towards the scene of Apple Bloom’s “accident” and saw their owners’ silhouettes as they passed. Fluttershy’s was instantly recognizable; she was the only pegasus in the sickbay and she was doing an odd little flap-and-skip to give herself more speed. Applejack waited until all of the silhouettes had passed and counted to three before poking her head out into the main area. She quickly spotted the hatch leading to the rest of the ship. So Rainbow should be—there!

Applejack sprinted to Rainbow’s area, her body screaming at her the whole way. Rainbow was alone and asleep—as Applejack had expected—but she looked worse than ever. The chart at the foot of her bed held a note from Doctor Snips; he had recently given Rainbow a double dose of the medicine from the Wonderbolts. Applejack cursed to herself and grabbed the bottle of pills off of Rainbow’s nightstand before galloping out of sickbay.

She had to find Twilight, pronto.

* * *

T plus two hours and fifty-three minutes. Ponystar Celestia, CIC.

Commander Twilight Sparkle grimaced and rubbed at her eyes with a forehoof. It was only mid-afternoon, but thanks to how hard she’d pushed herself fighting the alchemical weapon she was as tired as if she’d been up for days.

Get some sleep, her sense of self-preservation urged, this time in Spike’s voice. Twilight shook her head and smirked. She’d already ignored it when it had sounded like Fluttershy; no way was she going to back down now. In lieu of resting, she teleported another globe of water to herself. As always, she checked it for steam before letting it splash down over her face. She had lost count of how many times she had used that trick to wake herself up, but she was vaguely aware that the deck around her hooves was still wet from the last time. My mane’s most likely a mess, too…

She walked yet another circuit of the CIC, checking on each console. With the Celestia holding position above the ruins of the ancient Castle of the Royal Pony Sisters, there was virtually nothing she needed to do on any of them. This was partly a mercy, seeing as she was alone. Sweetie Belle had left a few minutes ago after delivering “Commander Agrippa’s” latest speech—she preferred to avoid the CIC whenever she wasn’t strictly needed—and Apple Bloom was visiting her siblings in sickbay. Fortunately Spike was on hoof to act as a bouncer and keep the passageway outside of the CIC clear; otherwise they would each have been swarmed by the curious, nervous crew whenever they tried to enter or exit the CIC. Unfortunately that left Twilight alone, tired, and bored in a dimly-lit environment.

She felt herself start to nod off again—standing up, no less—and jabbed at her split lip with a hoof. The pain woke her again. A little. Twilight had had a hard time convincing Spike that she’d tripped and clipped her jaw on a table edge; Major Spitfire had no idea how close she had come to real danger. Spike was still getting used to his ever-stronger draconic instincts, and two things were deeply ingrained in a dragon’s being: that family members were to be counted among one’s possessions, and that one’s possessions were to be protected by any means necessary. Twilight was confident that Spike would never kill anypony, but he was powerful enough to do very serious harm if he let his instincts get out of hoof—or claw, in his case.

Speaking of killing… She looked towards the hatch and shuddered. A large canvas laundry cart was parked just inside the room, ostensibly filled with soiled uniforms. Dirty jackets were indeed part of the cart’s cargo, but beneath those were the corpses of Colonel Tie and Lieutenants Caramel and Gate. As soon as Apple Bloom came back and took over the CIC, Twilight would haul those down to the auxiliary sickbay and perform some autopsies. Of course she had never done an autopsy before, but she had studied anatomy texts and performed dissections. It would have been nice if she could involve the ship’s doctor—his file said he was a talented surgeon—but secrecy had to come first. She’d chosen Gate for his extensive damage, Tie for having fought Caramel, and Caramel for probably being the saboteur. Thinking of Caramel again jogged another part of her exhausted brain.

Twilight opened Caramel’s saddlebags—which she was now wearing—with her magic, levitated an object out, and set it before her on the tactical board. It was a more-or-less spherical hunk of hard, black material; probably bone or chitin. The thing was riddled with holes and covered in jagged, spiky protrusions, except for one part that looked almost like a handle. It had apparently been alive until recently; there were still shreds of greenish soft tissue and little things that looked almost like organs visible through some of the holes. The scientist in her scolded her for making assumptions without studying it further, but Twilight was absolutely certain that the object had come from the changelings.

Still staring at the object, she contemplated that assumption. If she was indeed correct, the next question was why? Why would the changelings stage such a huge offensive instead of sticking to their usual subterfuge? More to the point at the moment, why would Lieutenant Caramel work with the changelings? “I know that some ponies are driven by desires for wealth, fame, power, or love,” Twilight mused aloud, “but none of those motives are reasonable here. A Lieutenant’s pay grade is quite comfortable, so greed is out—”

Somepony snorted derisively.

“—and changelings have no concept of fame so far as our sociologists have been able to determine. Power seems to rest solely with their queen or queens—we still don’t know if there’s more than one—so there aren’t any opportunities for social advancement. And love is the least likely of all; changelings can’t provide it and would likely have simply consumed Caramel for his if he had approached them. There’s no logical reason for him to have turned against Equestria.”

“Of course there is.”

“No; no there isn’t,” Twilight insisted. “I just finished explaining that.”

“Oh, please.” The voice was a stallion’s: a refined tenor, dripping with arrogance. “It’s staring you right in the face.”

Twilight blinked a few times. The object sat before her. “I’ve already deduced that he was working with the changelings,” she said irritably. “But at the same time, there’s no reason any sane pony would do so.”

“So you have two options.”

Twilight frowned. “Either he wasn’t sane…”

“Oh, he was sane. Trust me: I know insanity. Or...?”

“Or… he wasn’t a pony?” Twilight asked dubiously.

“Very good, mon commandant.”

It suddenly occurred to Twilight that there shouldn’t be anypony else in the CIC. She whirled to face the intruder and found herself staring into a pair of asymmetrical red-and-yellow eyes.

“Boo!” said Discord.

Twilight shrieked and leapt backwards, clipping her flank painfully on the edge of the tactical board. She quickly got her hooves back under her and prepared her magic. Discord simply stood—or rather, hunched; she’d forgotten how tall he was—and watched her with an amused expression. Of course his relaxed air meant nothing; Twilight kept her guard up and several spells at the ready.

Discord did nothing for a long moment; he looked as if he was waiting for something. Finally he put his lion paw to his chest theatrically and pouted. “What, no ‘hello’?” he asked, his tone hurt. “And here I thought you were studying the magic of friendship! Dear Celestia will be so disappointed when she learns how you treat your long-lost friends.” The chaos god sighed and shook his head, as if providing a preview of the Princess’ reaction.

“You’re no friend of mine, Discord!” Twilight hissed, teeth bared and ears back.

Discord only smiled—mockingly, as always. “Oh? And here I thought I’d met all the criteria.” He held out his eagle claw, counting on his talons the way Spike sometimes did on his claws. “When last we met you certainly had a big adventure.” A talon went up. “I can’t speak for everypony, but I had tons of fun.” Another talon. “You can’t deny that this is beautiful—” with that, he shoved his lion paw into his own chest and pulled out a ruby larger than Twilight’s head. It pulsated, dripping with what smelled like raspberry jam.

Twilight only glared. “No,” she said, shaking her head. “No. I refuse to play along. This is impossible. You’re impossible.”

Discord smirked. “I do six impossible things before breakfast every day.” The ruby was gone, and with it all of the—substance—that had splattered onto the deck.

Twilight smirked right back. “The real Discord does. But the real Discord doesn’t paraphrase classic literature; partly because he’s too busy being a statue in the Palace garden.” She let go of her magic and settled into a more relaxed posture.

“Ugh! Don’t remind me,” Discord said, grimacing. Then he smiled again. “But have it your way, my dear,” he said, leaning back until his hind legs left the deck and he was reclining in midair. “If I’m not real, then what am I?”

“You’re a stress-induced expression of my unconscious mind, playing itself out during my waking hours,” Twilight said calmly.

Discord’s serpentine tail whipped back and forth like a cat’s. “So you’re going mad? Again?” He laughed and clapped his forelimbs together, producing a sound like breaking glass. “Oh, that would be lovely under the circumstances! I almost wish I wasn’t back!”

Twilight said nothing, concentrating on keeping her face neutral and her breathing even. The sooner she relaxed, the sooner the hallucination would pass.

“Ignoring me?” Discord asked, his eyes narrowing and his smile gone. “How immature of you. And here I came with a gift: a clue as to the nature of the late Lieutenant Caramel.”

Despite herself, Twilight replied. “Your ‘clue’ is no such thing. If Caramel was some kind of shape-shifter—”

“‘Some kind’!” Discord repeated mockingly. He rolled his eyes so hard that they fell out of his head.

“—he would have changed back to his native form when he died,” Twilight concluded, sidestepping a bit to avoid an eyeball.

“Oh, of course!” Discord said, his voice thick with sarcasm. A new pair of eyes formed in his sockets, inflating like balloons. “Because the changelings couldn’t possibly have mutated or improved their tricks in the last decade or so!”

Twilight glared.

“Oh, please,” Discord said. He snapped his lion claws; there was a flash of white light. When Twilight could see again she was looking at herself. “I’m not telling you anything you don’t already know,” Discord said condescendingly, in Twilight’s voice.

“And do I ‘already know’ how to test this theory?” Twilight asked, her tone and face flat.

“I don’t know,” Discord-Twilight sneered, leaning forward until their horns almost touched. “Do you?”

Again despite herself, Twilight considered the idea. “I’m not too clear on how changeling magic works, but I presume it’s controlled by their brains,” she said after a moment. “If Caramel is still being affected by a spell of some kind—and if the spell is a continuous one like most shape-shifting spells—then that would be the place to look.”

“The place to look for what?” Applejack asked.

For the second time in less than five minutes, Twilight nearly jumped out of her coat. Applejack was standing just inside the CIC, clutching something with one foreleg. Twilight could see Spike through the closing hatch, and glimpsed a mercifully empty passageway beyond him. She shot a glance to where Discord had been, but he had vanished. Twilight turned back to Applejack. “Nothing,” she said. “Just talking to myself.” She put a slight emphasis on the last word, just in case Discord was listening. But to hear it he’d have to be real, and— she quashed the thought.

Applejack raised an eyebrow. “Uh, okay,” she said, sounding unconvinced. She crossed the distance to Twilight in an awkward three-legged shuffle, and Twilight reflected—not for the first time—that life had to be difficult for non-unicorns. “You feelin’ all right, sugar cube?”

Twilight almost glared at Applejack before she realized that the cowfilly’s tone had been one of concern, rather than suspicion. She sighed slightly and smiled. “Not really,” she said honestly. “But I’m doing about as well as anypony, considering.”

Applejack winced and looked away for a moment, her ears down. “Yeah, Ah hear ya.” Her ears rose again as she looked back at Twilight. “Listen: why don’t Ah take over here for a spell? That way you can—” she stopped abruptly and looked at the object she was carrying. “Aw, shoot,” she said.

“What is it?” Twilight asked.

Applejack passed her burden from her foreleg to her mouth and finally to the tactical board, where it sat next to Caramel’s object. She shot the spiny black thing a curious glance, but didn’t comment on it. “Ah’m afraid Ah can’t offer you a break just yet,” she said. She gestured with her now-free hoof to the item she had brought in: the bottle of medicine that the Wonderbolts had provided for Rainbow Dash. “Ah know this is gonna sound crazy, but Ah need you to test this stuff an’ see what it is.”

Twilight’s tired brain lagged a bit. “It’s medicine,” she said.

Applejack shot her a glare. “Ah know that’s what we were told, Twi, but Ah’ve never been sent to the doctor for takin’ medicine before!”

Twilight forced this through the rusty gears of her mind. “Why’d you take Rainbow’s medicine?”

Applejack stamped a hoof in frustration. “Ah had a bet goin’—but that ain’t important! What’s important is that Ah think this ‘medicine’ is poison!” She bit her lip and glared off to the side after she spoke, but Twilight was too tired to figure out why.

Twilight glanced at Caramel’s object, then at the corpse-concealing laundry cart. She wanted to be shocked by Applejack’s claim, but given the events of the day it made a sick sort of sense. “Okay,” she said. “I’ll check it out.”

Applejack didn’t seem to hear her. The orange-coated earth pony was looking warily around at the empty CIC. She turned slowly in place, taking in the entire room. “Uh, Twilight?” she asked quietly, when she’d turned all the way around. “Ah don’t suppose everypony’s on break right now?”

Twilight looked her best friend straight in the eye. “No.”

Applejack took a step back, instinctively buying herself room to either flee or buck. “This is bigger than Ponyville and poisoned medicine, ain’t it?” she asked cautiously.

Twilight raised an eyebrow. “You didn’t hear the announcement before the rescue attempt began? Nopony told you?”

Applejack shook her head. “Ah was still out cold at the time. Once Ah woke up the doc told the nurses to keep quiet; said he didn’t want anything to upset me.”

Twilight reached out with her magic. She found the military correspondence scroll that Sweetie Belle had discovered, and levitated it over to where Applejack could see it.

Applejack’s face paled as she read the small scroll, until her freckles were almost invisible. She swallowed, then licked her lips a couple of times. When she turned from the scroll to Twilight, her eyes were focused somewhere far away. “Twi…?” She swayed on her hooves.

Twilight swore silently and teleported in another globe of cool water, with which she doused Applejack. What are you thinking, just laying it on her like that?! she chided herself. She spent the last few hours being poisoned, you stupid cow! As Twilight continued her silent tirade of self-recrimination and casual racism, she helped Applejack to sit down gently. Then—over the course of the next twenty minutes or so—she filled Applejack in on everything that had happened since she had collapsed in the hallway. Except for the conversation with “Discord,” of course; that wasn’t important.

When Twilight had finished, Applejack looked around at the CIC’s consoles again. She shuddered, probably because she now knew that several of them concealed the corpses of ponies who had died in agony thanks to the same substance that had hospitalized Big Macintosh. At least the room no longer stank; Twilight had cast a spell that prevented the bodies from decaying further, as well as one that negated their smell. Applejack took her hat off, pressed it to her chest with one hoof, and closed her eyes.

Twilight waited patiently through her friend’s moment of silence.

Once Applejack had put her hat back on Twilight gestured to Rainbow’s medicine. “That’s why I believed you so readily about the whole poison thing,” she said. “It’s not as though you’d lie of course, but that’s why I assume you’re correct rather than mistaken.”

Applejack nodded, her expression still somewhat distant.

As bad as she was with social cues, Twilight had been studying friendship long enough to know a pony in need of a hug when she saw one. The two held each other for a long, long moment. Twilight let Applejack break the hug before she spoke again. “I’ll test that medicine, Applejack, but I’m afraid it’s not the only thing I need to do. There are the autopsies, too… and I need to learn what I can about alchemical weapons to see if there’s some way we can stop that semi-sentient ooze, so…”

Applejack gave Twilight a gentle half-smile as her strong green eyes met Twilight’s hesitant purple ones. “You want me to be the new Commander,” she said.

Twilight swallowed and looked away, her ears back. After a brief pause she said, “Yes.”

Applejack closed her eyes and took a deep breath. “You said Spitfire refused to do it, an’ that nopony else outside’a our group was qualified.”

“Yes,” Twilight said. “To the best of my knowledge that’s correct.”

“You’ve gotta do your research, Rainbow’s probably been poisoned, an’ Rarity’s… missin’,” Applejack said. As she mentioned each pony her tail twitched slightly, making Twilight think of an agitated snake. “Mac’s laid up, an’ anyway he an’ Fluttershy can’t bring themselves to ask most ponies to pass the butter. Ah don’t even know where Pinkie’s got to or what she’s doin’. That just leaves me an’ the Cutie Mark Crusaders.” Applejack opened her eyes. “An’ Ah’ll go to Tartarus before Ah’ll drop a burden like this onto one’a them fillies.”

“Then… you accept?” Twilight asked.

Applejack sighed. “Ah don’t think Ah’m the right pony for the job, but Ah reckon Ah’m the only choice we’ve got.”

Twilight didn’t know how to react. She was glad to be free of the Commander’s role, but at the same time she felt terrible for having placed Applejack in the same position. “Thank you,” she said softly.

Applejack shot her a playful glare. “No, thank you… Colonel.”

“What.” Twilight was too dumbstruck to make it a question.

“Ah’m gonna need a right-hoof mare,” Applejack said. “Ah know you’ve got a lot on your plate, but like Ah said it’s slim pickin’s right now. Even if it weren’t, though, Ah’d still pick you.” She gently poked Twilight in the chest. “You’re the smartest pony Ah’ve ever met, an’ the best-educated. You think quick on your hooves, an’ most importantly you see things from a different place than Ah do. You catch things Ah miss.” Applejack sat back on her rear. “Ah admit Rarity’s better at that last one, but she ain’t here.”

Twilight sighed. “All right,” she said. “But please: if you find somepony better for the job, let me step down.”

Applejack smiled. “Deal.” She spit on a forehoof and held it out. Twilight grimaced, but she reciprocated. Once they had shaken hooves, Applejack adjusted her hat and said, “Okay: you said there ain’t much to do here, so Ah figure Ah can hold the fort ‘til Apple Bloom comes back. Now Ah know you need to do all’a that research, but you’re no use to anypony if you’re dead on your hooves. Hit the hay, Twi.” Twilight opened her mouth to protest, but Applejack was ready for her. “That’s an order.”

Somehow—despite all the horrors of the day—Twilight laughed. “Yes, ma’am.”